It's been nine months. Nine months of agony and hatred. Hatred at that stupid watch for breaking, hatred at that stupid car for hitting her, hatred at herself for letting her take her bike. A few hours of her moaning about being late for work is a better scenario than the one playing its tune.
Delia.
Even the mention of her name breaks her heart. Patsy doesn't think of the flat, the curves of her smile, the soft touch of her lips or the feeling she got whenever Delia placed her hands on her. Instead she thinks of the emptiness in Delia's eyes when she looked at her in the hospital. The eyes that used to shine with happiness and mischief were gone.
Another person retched from Patsy from the horrible mistress that is circumstance. First her father, then her mother and sister and now Delia. Why can't fate just let her be happy?
That's all she thinks about when she rides home from a delivery. 'Make sure you look both ways when crossing a street and keep concentrated at all times, we don't need one of our own in a bed in The London.' Sister Evangelina had told them no more than three days after the accident. If she had knows how much Delia actually meant to Patsy, she wouldn't have been so blunt. Or maybe she would, she isn't the most compassionate person at Nonnatus. Thankfully at the time the phone had rang and Patsy all but ran towards it.
It never got easier for Patsy, she had met the love of her life and lost her. Patsy was too cautious to try and find anyone in the first place, Delia had made the first move. Slightly drunk coming back from dancing the night away with young doctors, they sat up talking about how uninterested in men the both were.
"Not my type, if I'm honest." Delia had said through giggles.
"I know how you feel. Poor lads, they were really trying too!" Patsy had laughed, "out of curiosity, what is your type?"
"Quite specific." Delia had looked down at her hands, the smile gone.
Was it the alcohol that moved Patsy's hand to Delia's chin? If it was, she was eternally grateful. Eyes are mysterious things. They can give away nearly any emotion that the bearer feels. Patsy was so used to hiding nearly every emotion she had, but Delia could see right through her and for that she was both scared and happy. Scared just incase Delia could see the glint of attraction Patsy had held for her and happy just incase she saw it and reciprocated it.
That's when Delia lent in.
Patsy loved reciting that to herself, but now it's just a painful memory.
"Watch out!" A voice had called that snapped Patsy out of her daydream, but it was too late and she had knocked the bystander off her feet and went over the handlebars of her own bike, falling on top of the woman.
"I'm so sorry!" Patsy said to the woman. She rolled off her, but didn't get up.
The woman turned her head towards Patsy and smiled, "don't worry about it, I will, however, need a hand to get up, I can barely walk in this dress and I didn't plan on being on the floor so quickly into the night."
Patsy laughed and got to her feet, pulling up the woman, taking the small time to drink in the woman's appearance. Distinctive Manchester accent, blonde hair, blue eyes. Quite pretty really.
"Your head." She pointed to Patsy's eyebrow, and Patsy's hand followed. Blood. She doesn't even remember hitting her head.
"It's fine, I'm a nurse, I'll patch myself up when I get back to Nonnatus." Patsy waved the woman off and got back behind the handle bars of her bike.
The woman stepped in front of her, stopping her. "You really shouldn't go back on your own, what if something bad happens?"
"Here's hoping!" Patsy smiled.
"I'm walking you back, my dress is the reason why you're bleeding and it'll feel guilty if you didn't make it back."
"How thoughtful."
"I'm Kimberley, Kimberley Scott." She smiled.
"Patience Mount. But my friends call me Patsy."
"Lead the way to Nonnatus, Patience." Kimberley smiled.
A few weeks later had seen Patsy and Kimberley grow closer. It was nice having a friend outside Nonnatus, Trixie and Barbara had also become good friends with Kimberley.
Despite them all bonding, no one really knew anything about Kimberley. Patsy wondered about her. What if she was like her? She couldn't replace Delia, no matter how much Patsy wanted her to. She wanted the pain in her chest to stop, ten months now and it still hurts.
Kimberley had invited Patsy for coffee in a local café, the only one closest was the one she frequented with Delia.
She was sat in their usual seats for ten minutes before Kimberley arrived.
"Hello, Pats." She smiled. Pats? Delia used to call me that.
"Hello." She smiled back, politely.
Kimberley sat down in what was Delia's seat, "it came to my attention that I haven't really told you much about me."
Patsy smiled, "besides that you're name is Kimberley and you're 24, no, I don't know anything about you."
"Well, I thought I'd tell you everything." Kimberley leaned forward, "I wanted to make sure of who you were before I told you anything, just on the off chance that you weren't who I thought you were."
Patsy looked at her, utterly confused. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm originally from Manchester, hence the accent, but moved a few years ago to be closer to my family. There was an accident involving my cousin, car collision with a bike." Patsy's eyes widened, "she suffered serious head trauma which lead to her losing her memory."
"Delia." Patsy whispered, her hands going to her mouth.
"She was bedridden for three months. We shared a room, you see, so I helped her with anything during the night. One night in particular, she woke me up, well, she threw a book at my head-" Patsy laughed slightly as tears slowly escaped her eyes, "it really hurt, actually. But she wanted to get out of the house and walk around, so we snook out. It was the best thing for her, she started to remember things, bit by bit. She remembered the playground where she used to play football with the boys and beat them every time, she remembered the tree she once fell out of and cut open her knee, she even remembered me."
Both Kimberley and Patsy were crying now, Patsy wanted her to continue and wanted her to stop. What if Delia remembered her, but didn't feel the same again?
"Keep going." Patsy gasped.
"One day we went for a walk and we saw a young boy with bright red hair and she followed him for about ten minutes, his mother wasn't best pleased, but I pulled her away before she could say anything. I sat her on a park bench and she grabbed my head and said, 'Patsy.'"
"Did she?" Patsy looked at her sweaty hands before wiping her eyes with a napkin.
"Yes. She started to remember small bits about this 'Patsy' character. Fierce red lips to go with her hair, dimples you could live in and a slight smell of bleach. That's all I had to work with. I've been in London for two months looking for you to tell you that she remembers you. She remembers your smile and the way it makes her feel, she remembers the late night dancing in her room, she remembers your first kiss and your last and most importantly she remembers your flat."
"She remembers all that?" Patsy was overjoyed and shaking. Delia. Her dear sweet Delia.
"She said, 'tell her she mustn't get rid of the flat! That was our dream.' I can probably imagine you haven't still got the flat."
"No, I couldn't bear to stay in that place without her." Patsy weeped.
"Does that mean we have to go flat hunting again?" A Welsh voice floated through the door.
Patsy froze. No, it couldn't be. The owner of the voice walked towards them and placed their hands on her shoulders. Slowly Patsy turned around and saw Delia's smiling face.
"Delia." She whispered, standing up slowly and taking her in.
"Alright, Pats?" Her smile widened and she suddenly had Patsy's arms wrapped around her and her wet face in her neck.
"I love you, Deels." She chocked out.
"I love you too, Pats." Delia pulled back from their embrace, "anyway, now we have to go flat hunting again."