It was one of those curiosities, oddities, quirks or whichever description you might fancy to give it.
One of those somethings that ought to have passed her by long ago; left, perhaps at best cherished or probably dismissed from your memory as you saw fit to recall it. It was one of those rites of passage that she had witnessed siblings, colleagues and those occasional friends seemingly sail through but never been able to enjoy for her, or, for that matter, recoil in embarrassment over as you grew old.
With those first memories of hesitant steps towards company and first kisses, well, those chances had truly melted into the not forgotten past, lost into the drifting mists of misplaced moments, with those faces that seemed to fuse into one muddied, bewildering existence. That was all it was, certainly. An existence. A life unfulfilled and unrewarding except when that uniform sat nestled on her shoulders and hips. That was, until very possibly this second if the good Lord decided that he would shine on her this one time.
Replacing her glasses, Chummy gently twisted one of the vigilantly dressed curls that lay at the nape of her neck, carefully placed by Cynthia after the owner's attempts left her with shaking hands and a deepening feeling of foreboding at that blasted twirl of hair that simply refused to behave and do what it was told. The eeriest sensation suddenly danced across her shoulders and she was not entirely sure whether it was anxiety or excitement. Getting all dolled up for a date. A date. Her. A date with someone. Him. This person who had voluntary chosen to want to spend time with her. In truth the devilsome little chap that sat on her shoulder was trying to persuade her that it had to be some jolly jape. Anyone else but he and it might just have been one of those hoots or capers that everybody but poor old Chummy seemed to understand the reason for or the method behind.
To her side there was a gentle knock on the door.
"Pip pip! One's always at home!" she announced, knowing that it would have sounded to whoever that person was as far too enthusiastic. Turning towards the opening door, she saw Sister Bernadette slip into the room.
"Just a quick cup of tea" she said, eyes gently washing over the navy blue dress that the Nurse was wearing. "It's quite frosty out there tonight".
Chummy smiled in thanks and turned back to the mirror.
"You do look lovely Chummy!" Sister Bernadette commented as she placed the cup gently on the dresser.
"Do I?" she asked curiously adjusting the neckline of the dress she had deliberated over for more hours than in all likelihood was healthy.
"You do", the Sister replied about to turn tail and leave the nurse in peace.
"Sister?" Chummy asked, turning too away from the small mirror, needing an opinion that she knew would be balanced and thought out and not with an underlying feeling that she was being teased. "Are you sure I do?"
"Do you think?" she continued, waving her hand in the general region of her chest. In an effort to feel remotely personable for male company, not quite knowing one way or another, she had taken this dress from the wardrobe and spent hours surveying it and wondering, putting it back, ironing it, thinking she ought to let the hem down, the neckline up and verging on cancelling the whole frightening mess.
"Nurse, I really don't think I am quite the person to be asking whether a dress is rather too low cut or not" the Sister replied, slightly stumbling over her words.
Chummy smiled. "Sorry Sister" she replied quickly, suddenly staring at the floor in horror that she had suggested such a personal thing of a Nun. "Only the girls just pull my leg and tell me to make sure its lower!"
"You look lovely Nurse" the Sister concluded. "Perhaps though a cardigan if you feel uncomfortable? You do have that ever so lovely black one with the lace around the neck?"
It didn't strike her immediately that the Sister had even noticed that garment that barely ever saw the light of day. She didn't like, normally, to wear it; a present from one of her sisters in law and it felt too sumptuous to even justify it sitting on her shoulders. Thinking back she had worn it once – Trixie's birthday – when they had been to the cinema and sat eating biscuits until midnight in the sitting room and she had been sure that there had not been a Sister in sight.
"Thank you Sister", Chummy replied, resisting placing a hand on the Sisters arm in thanks as it still felt all too familiar. "That is a first-rate idea".
"It's quite alright" she heard in response before downstairs they heard the door bell ring. Chummy swiftly raised her wrist to look at her watch.
"I do believe that might be your gentleman", the Sister continued, smiling feeling the slight edginess in the room suddenly ratchet up a few more degrees.
"It can't be!" Chummy replied, panicking as fear suddenly began to swim through her nervous veins, brushing her dress down again, although entirely unnecessarily. "It's far, far too early! It can't be him".
"Nurse" Sister Bernadette said, voice calm in a counterpoint to the raised, rushed words she was hearing and the fluster around her. "If he is early I can send him away for you…."
"No, no, no, gosh no!" Chummy replied, suddenly tormenting the thin belt of her dress, thinking that doing just that might give all kinds of the wrong type of impression. "What would be thinking of me to send him packing?"
All of a sudden there was another knock on the door and Trixie's head popped around.
"Oh! It was him wasn't it?" Chummy replied, face creasing resisting the need to sit down with an ungracious thump and just give up on the entire thing.
"Don't sound so horrified!" Trixie responded, disguising a chuckle in her voice as she too rounded the door. "I've left him in the sitting room".
They both saw the frown on Chummy's face.
"I would rather suggest you drink your tea and let him wait", Sister Bernadette stated somewhat emphatically before she walked from the room.
"Did I just hear that?" Trixie whispered, waiting until the footsteps were sufficiently far away down the corridor.
"Advice about how to deal with a chap from a Nun?" Chummy replied, deciding finally that she would wear that cardigan after all. "One thinks you did!"
"Now let me look at you!" Trixie said, turning her friend around and holding her by the arms, surveying her.
"Yes" she continued, gently buffing some of the token blusher that had been applied with her thumb. "Perfect!"
Chummy smiled, still not being able to keep that slight hint of resignation from her face. It was going to be a disaster. It was the only way that it could possibly go. The first man she could like, at least on first value, so it made it all together more exasperating that this date was going to end in the archetypal, debasing botch of not being able to string a coherent sentence together in mixed company.
"So did you decide where you are going?" Trixie asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"To see Carousel" Chummy replied, turning to take her cardigan from the dresser behind them both.
"Oh!" Trixie replied. "I have been waiting an age to see that! You must remember every detail and tell me immediately".
"I will", Chummy responded, shaking the garment, seeing no creases as she gently turned down the collar.
"Unless you are up to things that good girls shouldn't in the back row but I do expect details of that too!" Trixie continued, eyes following in devilment as Chummy completed her ensemble.
"Trixie! Ssshhh!" she scolded, partly embarrassed that someone would even think she would be up to such things but in equal measure wondering why he'd even want to think about such practices with her of all people anyway. It had still not entirely registered, and perhaps would not for a time, that he might want to listen to what she might have to say. The thought that he might be physically attracted to her was too much of an exasperating folly to even give thought to.
"It was a joke!" Trixie replied, resisting saying 'almost'. "Just have lovely time and stop worrying". She deliberately emphasised the last two words as she saw her friend give herself a one last look in the mirror.
"Come on", Trixie said, handing her the patent leather black bag she had borrowed from Jenny that sat propped against the bedstead. "You have a date to go on!"