Phyllis, driving as fast as could still be considered responsible, pulled up in front of the Maternity Home to find Shelagh juggling boxes of leaflets, file folders, and supplies. Delia hurried out as they arrived, rushing to Mrs. Turner's aid.
"Apologies for the delay, Mrs. Turner. They'd put the bridges up," Phyllis grumbled.
"Not to worry, I've all in hand," Shelagh said brightly, loading boxes into the backseat.
"Wouldn't you like the front seat, Mrs. Turner?" Delia offered as Shelagh slid in beside the supplies. Phyllis gave the nurse a stern look.
"We both know very well you get carsick, duck."
"And I'm perfectly happy to stretch out in the back for once," said Shelagh, settling in. "I'm just so excited we're finally implementing this outreach program. Where did you say you'd seen it done before, Nurse Busby?"
"In Kenya," Delia brightened, "I had an inkling it might transfer well to Poplar." She smiled at Shelagh in the rearview mirror. "Phyllis, could we have the radio on?"
"Only if you promise not to fiddle around too much with the stations," Phyllis relented, "and as the driver I have final veto power, according to the rules of the Institute of Advanced Motorists."
Delia switched the music on, tuning to her favorite pop station. Frankie Valli's voice came flooding through the car's speakers: All too soon my secret love became impatient to be free…
Shelagh found herself humming, then singing along; she'd first heard Doris Day sing this song, but even in this new version knew it intimately. By the end of the track, a wary yet tolerant Phyllis was eyeing her carmates in the mirrors as they belted the final lyrics. My secret love is no secret anymore.
Delia settled back into her seat. "I love that song," she sighed.
"Patrick and I do, too," Shelagh blushed. "It's 'our song'."
"Ours too," said Delia dreamily, gazing out the window. Her heart stopped cold the moment the words left her lips. Phyllis, focused on the unfamiliar route, didn't notice.
"Yes, I do remember," she squinted to make out a worn-away street sign. "How is our Patsy?"
Delia cleared her throat. "I had a postcard from Nurse Mount only yesterday," she said, her cool voice belied by beet-red cheeks.
The change of tone threw Phyllis, who glanced at her before signaling a turn, eyes instantly widening in mortification of having revealed something she oughtn't. Shelagh, small in the backseat behind all the boxes, looked between them, perplexed.
"Are you and Nurse Mount–"
"We're nearly at our destination," interrupted Phyllis, dampening Shelagh's realization in an uncomfortable silence. Delia avoided their eyes and for a while, the ride continued mutely.
"Well, I won't cast aspersions," Shelagh said, two pairs of eyes now trained on her for breaking the silence. "I think people forget I used to be a nun, after all," she said, gazing thoughtfully out the window, "who never intended to fall in love and certainly wasn't supposed to."
Looking up again, she met Delia's eyes in the rearview mirror. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to speak out of turn. And I do promise to keep your secret, if that's what you want."
Delia looked to Phyllis, who gave her the kind of curt, loving nod she'd come to expect from the older nurse. Be brave, lass, it said. "I suppose nuns are part of what we'd worried about. Not the only factor, obviously, but," she chose her words carefully, "being a more conservative environment, we've thought it best to be discreet, at Nonnatus."
Shelagh nodded. "I can't speak for the other nuns, and I don't know much about it," she said, after a beat. "But I do know that if my view of love, or any of the sisters', was limited to the love between husbands and wives, we would be discounting most of the love we give, and see, every day."
Before either nurse could think up a suitable response, they really had arrived at their destination, and made quick work of unloading the Morris Minor. As she removed the last box, Delia turned to Shelagh.
"I would appreciate if you wouldn't tell anyone, for now," she said. "For Patsy's sake, really. Nursing is everything to her, and I couldn't jeopardize that." She scuffed her toes into the pavement and grinned. "I'm the impatient one."
"Of course," Shelagh agreed, gathering the last of the leaflets. "It's not my place." She hesitated, turning to put a hand on Delia's arm as she imagined Sister Julienne might. "Just–know that I can be a… friendly star, if you like."
"Nurse Busby! I'm sorry, but I can't find–"
"I have it here, Phyllis! With your Rolodex," Delia brandished the box.
"Thank you, Nurse. I'm quite sure I don't know what we'd do without you," Phyllis sighed.
Delia smiled proudly and readjusted the box of supplies in her arms. "Ready?"
"After you, Nurse," Shelagh nodded.