Summary: With Many of the staff away in South Africa, those left behind manage to find time to celebrate Christmas in their own way.
Disclaimer: Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.
Author's note: This is the fifth in the 'Tea Series'. You might want to read the Other Tea stories first if you haven't already.
I have written this in anticipation of there being very little 'B' storyline for this year's Call the Midwife Christmas special. After all, going on location is very costly so I suspect they would want to maximise their budget. As I'm thinking that there will be little at Nonnatus House, I have written this to fill the void. Of course, it would be lovely to be proven wrong, and I may well write another Christmas fic once I've seen the special, that runs a little closer to canon. As befitting with a Christmas special - this is a bumper edition so a lot longer than the other stories in the 'Tea Series'.
Special thanks to MyLittleYellowBird for her amazing n depth knowledge of all things Call the Midwife, and to GiGi-Nutshell for a couple of suggestions!
This is dedicated to everyone who has to work over the Christmas period. Having worked shifts for 23 years, I know what it's like. I have been fortunate to have Christmas off this year, but I am working New Year so I haven't got off scot free!
Yuletide felicitations to you all. I hope you manage to spend time with those that you want to spend time with during this time, no matter what you're celebrating (if at all!) Peace and love for the New Year...
"Delia, what on earth are you doing?" Patsy frowned as she entered the kitchen to see Delia hunched over a bowl at the table, squeezing a bicycle inner tube and rotating it through the water.
The Welsh nurse didn't look up. "I had a puncture on the way home. When I got to the bike shed I realised that this is the fourth bicycle that has one. None of them have been repaired since Fred left so I thought I'd better do something about it or we'll be walking everywhere at this rate."
Patsy could see three other inner tubes each with chalk marks on them, laid out on the table. "I didn't know you could repair punctures," she commented with surprise.
"Dad taught us all how to do basic repairs when we were kids," Delia replied easily. "Puncture repairs, fixing the chain. Even changing the brake blocks. Mam wasn't happy at all."
"What a surprise," Patsy muttered sarcastically. She had warmed slightly to Mrs Busby as she got to know her better, but she wasn't sure they would ever have an amicable relationship.
"Mam was horrified at me getting grease all over my hands. Covering my hands in that muck was most unladylike," Delia continued as she grabbed a small towel, dried an area of the inner tube and then circled it with the chalk.
"Good grief, does she know what your hands have been covered in since you started nurse training?" Patsy teased as she moved to the cooker and filled the kettle.
Delia smirked. "I don't think Mam needs to know everything my hands have touched, do you?"
Patsy blushed to the roots of her hair as she spun round. "Deels!"
Delia drew breath to comment further but stopped when she heard footsteps approaching.
"There you are. I was wondering where you got to." Sister Mary Cynthia sounded most concerned.
Patsy smiled brightly, but was unable to hide the tiredness from her face. "I've been in the Clinical Room cleaning all the kit and checking the On Call bags. Delia here has decided to become our handywoman now that Fred has departed for Africa and is fixing punctures."
The small nun's eyes widened. "Oh, Delia. You shouldn't be doing that. You've been out on rounds all day. I was going to see if I could find a local parishioner to help out."
Delia smiled softly. "I think you might have trouble on Christmas Eve, Sister." She shrugged slightly as she prepared the surface of one of the tubes. "God helps those who help themselves. That's what Sister Evangelina always used to say. So I thought it best to get on and do it myself."
Sister Mary Cynthia nodded. "But you haven't even had time to change. Have you at least eaten?"
Delia looked down quickly at her uniform before looking back at Sister Mary Cynthia. "Sorry. I just wanted to get it all done while I still had the energy. I know that once I sit down properly I'm going to fall asleep."
The two midwives and the trainee midwife had been working flat out since the departure of a team to South Africa. Delia had been given a huge learning curve of taking responsibility for all district rounds, while Sister Mary Cynthia and Patsy split the midwifery duties between them. Delia felt guilty for not being able to assist with overnight cover, but she was doing the work of three nurses during the day and was more than pulling her weight.
"Well the least I can do is fix you both some supper before evening prayers," Sister Mary Cynthia declared.
"Only if you join us," Patsy insisted.
The young nun nodded and quickly assembled some sandwiches while Patsy made tea.
"I reviewed the patient list for tomorrow and Boxing Day," Sister Mary Cynthia stated. "I've reduced the calls to essentials only. Everyone else has been told only to contact us in an emergency." She sighed. "Are you sure that the pair of you can manage tomorrow? You've both got a very full list."
"Sister Mary Cynthia, this time of year is incredibly important to you. Delia and I can cover while you and Sister Monica Joan fulfil your religious duties."
"It just feels a bit unfair. You've both been working so hard. To do my work as well..."
"Don't worry Sister. Mam and Dad are visiting on Boxing Day. It will more than make up for all the house calls tomorrow," Delia reassured.
"And I'll be back on rounds then. Between us we should be able to see everyone by lunchtime, so you'll have the afternoon free to spend with your family." Sister Mary Cynthia smiled.
"Oh, it won't just be me and Patsy spending time with them," Delia warned as she affixed a small rubber patch to the last of the inner tubes. "Once Dad finds out you and Sister Monica Joan are around, he'll insist on you joining us. He's a great believer in friends being just as important as family."
"That would be lovely," the small nun smiled.
"You say that now," Patsy warned, only slightly tongue-in-cheek.
Sister Mary Cynthia looked up at the kitchen clock. "I must prepare for prayers. Sister Monica Joan and I are going to All Saints for Midnight Mass. You're welcome to join us," she offered.
Patsy shook her head. "Normally I would, but I think I'd fall asleep on a pew if I did. I'm going to sit up and wait for Delia to finish her supper and then I think we'll be going to bed. Not very festive I know, but I've seen how long our rounds are tomorrow."
"I understand. Thank you once again. It really is so kind of you to do that for me."
Delia made Patsy hold a torch while she worked in the bike shed to put the bicycles back together again. Satisfied that they were roadworthy, Delia then washed up and the pair wearily trudged upstairs.
The Welsh woman had moved into Patsy's room when Trixie had left. It made perfect sense, particularly when it had been Trixie that suggested it in the first place.
As Delia collapsed into bed, she sighed tiredly. "How much longer do we have to keep this up?" She grumbled.
Patsy snuggled in behind the smaller woman and wrapped her long arms round her. "Another week I'm afraid. They're scheduled home on the 2nd January."
"And they'll be bubbling with tales of adventure and all the exotic things they've seen, while we have to sit there and listen wearily." Delia muttered.
"You really do get tetchy when you're tired don't you?" Patsy smiled as she kissed the back of Delia's head.
"I'm exhausted, Pats. My thighs have turned to steel through all the cycling, and it's all I can do not to fall asleep in my dinner."
Patsy traced a light pattern across her lover's abdomen. "Are you sure you're utterly exhausted? We're completely alone. The nuns are at midnight mass."
Delia sighed. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I am honestly too tired. At best I'd just lie there, at worst I'd be snoring."
Patsy sat up slightly and looked at Delia. "Ouch. That's done my ego no good whatsoever. I'd like to think I could provoke a response that was slightly higher than disinterest."
Delia looked up at Patsy and smiled. "Disinterest has absolutely nothing to do with it. A ridiculous workload and no sleep does."
The red-haired nurse gave a lop-sided smile. "I do hope you realise that this means I never want to hear about me being unable to keep up with you because of my age?"
"Oh, I'm sure I'll block it from my memory once I've had enough sleep to feel human again. Now, stop talking, snuggle in and go to sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow."
Patsy couldn't help but pout. "But it's Christmas," she pointed out, slightly embarrassed by the whine in her voice.
Delia rubbed her face and rolled over, moving her arm round so that they could hold each other. They were now nose-to-nose. She grinned at Patsy. "You have masterful skills of persuasion Nurse Mount," she whispered, kissing Patsy softly.
Patsy cupped Delia's cheek and deepened the kiss. "You only have yourself to blame," she declared, working the buttons of Delia's pyjama top open. "You told me you always get what you want." She paused again as they kissed, the passion igniting as Delia responded to Patsy's touch. "So I simply learned from the best."
"No more talking," Delia mumbled as she shrugged off her night attire, before quickly getting to work on Patsy's.
Christmas Day was indeed as predicted. Patsy and Delia did their best to hurry through their rounds, but every patient and their family insisted that they stay and have a cup of tea and a mince pie or sausage roll. This meant that the rounds took longer than predicted, despite them being pared down to the bare minimum.
Both women were also given many gifts to take back to the convent. In the end Patsy had to use some local children to ferry the various tins of chocolates and biscuits back to Nonnatus House as she had no more room on her bicycle.
By the time they returned, they were exhausted once again. Mrs B had been kind enough to leave a hotpot for the staff of Nonnatus. It wasn't exactly Christmas fayre, but it was easily reheated and a welcome change from the sugary treats they had been eating all day. Sister Mary Cynthia insisted on serving them and then assured them that the following day's rounds could at least start an hour later, and still be completed by lunchtime. She would also cover the on call for the night so that both Patsy and Delia could enjoy a cocktail or two.
"I'm very grateful for the gifts," the young nun declared as they were eating. "It means that we have something to offer your guests tomorrow."
Delia smiled. "If I know Mam, she'll come with supplies. She always thinks Christmas is worth celebrating properly."
"Oh well, it won't all be bad then," Patsy muttered darkly. She looked away when Delia shot her a warning look.
"Honestly, Sister Mary Cynthia. I'm grateful that you don't mind my parents visiting. I'll do all the preparation. I don't want to be any bother."
"Don't be silly, Delia. I'd love to help. Take it as my thanks for all your hard work today."
"Well, because they're travelling from Wales, I know they won't get here until at least 2 o'clock. Mam won't want to get here early. She'd hate to think she was causing bother so even if they do make good time, she'll probably make Dad drive around or sit and wait in the car."
"They will be welcome at any time." Sister Mary Cynthia paused for a second. "Although if they arrive too early, they will have to be hosted by Sister Monica Joan."
"I'm not quite sure who would have the harder time," Patsy grinned. Delia gave the tall midwife another pointed look, but couldn't help but grin.
Delia insisted on joining the nuns for evening prayers. Patsy hadn't been sure, but Delia was certain that the gesture would mean more to both Sister Mary Cynthia and Sister Monica Joan than any actual gift. She was right, of course. Sister Mary Cynthia had been delighted, and the smile on Sister Monica Joan's face as they arrived made Patsy grateful that Delia had been so thoughtful.
Eventually, they retired to bed and exchanged their own gifts. It had been a quiet Christmas Day but both Patsy and Delia had undertaken shifts for long enough to be used to celebrating Christmas on a day that suited their work best.
Sister Monica Joan shuffled to the front of the convent when she heard the doorbell. She opened the door to see two women standing there patiently. "Yes?"
"Hello. I wonder if you can help. I'm looking for Delia Busby."
Sister Monica Joan looked slightly confused. "She's not here," she stated and made to close the door.
The blonde haired woman managed to jam a foot in the door to prevent is shutting. "Sorry, this is Nonnatus House isn't it?"
"Liz? Is that you?" Patsy called from the back of the corridor.
"Patsy. Oh thank God. I thought we'd come to the wrong convent for a moment." Liz sounded relieved.
Blodwen raised an eyebrow at the elderly nun. "Would it be possible to come in?" She asked, her Welsh accent clear.
Sister Monica Joan eyed the bags and cake box the two women were carrying. "Do you bring sustenance?" She enquired greedily.
Blodwen grinned. "My niece Delia told me that there was a nun here who had a very refined taste in cake. I thought I'd better do some baking as we were coming round unannounced. I wanted to offer it as compensation for the disturbance."
Sister Monica Joan grabbed the tin eagerly and turned around. "Come in. Nurse Busby is still out on rounds but it appears you know Nurse Mount." She disappeared into the kitchen, while the two women smiled at her retreat.
Patsy hurried forward and found herself hugged first by Blodwen and then by Liz. "What a lovely surprise. Delia didn't tell me you were coming too."
"Delia didn't know. I spoke to Enid on the telephone yesterday to wish her Merry Christmas and she told us about Delia working over Christmas and not going home. When she told me they were visiting today, I thought it would be the perfect time to visit too."
Liz shook her head. "I did tell Blod that she should ring in advance, but she wanted to surprise you all." She shot a look down the corridor. "It's a good job you're in, or that would have backfired spectacularly."
"It wouldn't be the first time Sister Monica Joan's sent someone away without thinking. But you clearly made amends by bringing cake."
Liz grinned. "I have a feeling dealing with old nuns is like dealing with little children. Clear instructions, lots of treats and a little discipline here and there. As long as they're entertained, everything will work out just fine."
Patsy burst out laughing. "That's a good strategy for Sister Monica Joan. I think if the others were here, they might just be offended by that."
"Well it's a good job it's just her then. Or is anyone else around?" Liz couldn't help but look around the hall as she asked.
The three women moved through to the kitchen. "Sister Mary Cynthia is here as well. She's lovely, but very quiet," Patsy advised.
"Have you warned her about a Busby Christmas?" Auntie Blod asked quickly.
Patsy raised an eyebrow. "Don't you mean a Davies Christmas?" She teased.
"Not this time. That man's a menace when it comes to entertainment," Blod laughed. "It can get quite raucous."
Patsy blanched. "Please don't say it's going to be one long ordeal. I promised Delia I'd behave."
"Don't worry Patsy. I've endured one or two Busby family Christmases. I have a solid strategy so I'll look after you," Liz replied generously. "I've bought enough gin to sink a ship."
Patsy laughed again. "Thank goodness I'm not on call tonight." She cocked her head for a second as she mentally reviewed their list of expectant mothers. "And rather remarkably, none of our babies are due right now. Although that's never stopped someone making an early appearance."
"Well, just drink enough to take the edge off," Blod advised as she put her bags on the table.
Liz looked conspiratorially at the red-haired nurse. "That means a lot," she stage-whispered.
Patsy bit down on another laugh and sighed with relief. At least she now had an ally in Liz.
"I've brought some other bits and pieces for tea this afternoon," Blod declared as she started unpacking one of the bags.
"Please tell me you've brought your home-made pickled onions," Delia begged as she stepped into the kitchen.
Blod spun round and immediately enveloped her niece in a tight hug. "Merry Christmas cariad," she whispered. Being a teacher meant that Blodwen was quite honest enough with herself to know that she had favourites when it came to her nieces and nephews. No one came close to her Delia.
"Merry Christmas Auntie Blod," Delia managed in a choked voice. "What a wonderful surprise." She eventually disentangled herself only to be hugged by Liz. The brunette laughed. "Merry Christmas Liz."
"Blod insisted that we visit today," Liz told her. "Although I actually think she just didn't want your mother visiting our place and looking for dust."
Blodwen blushed slightly, despite protesting. "Well we're here now. Are you both finished for the day?"
"Yes. I just need to get changed," Patsy confirmed.
"Me too. Then we're all yours," Delia concurred.
"Hurry up then. I'm sure it's at least time for a sherry, even if it is a bit early to start on the gin. And yes, I did bring the onions," Blod confirmed.
Patsy swiftly located two sherry glasses and the bottle from the sitting room. "Help yourselves. We won't be long."
The midwives hurried upstairs and changed in record time. Within minutes they were back downstairs and huddled round the dining room table.
"Are you sure you're alright out here. There are comfortable settees next door," Delia offered.
"This is perfect. I don't need to worry about where to put my glass," Blod assured.
"Or if you're going to knock it over," Liz commented drily.
Patsy grinned. "Still accident prone then?"
"Something I will never grow out of," Blodwen replied almost proudly.
The doorbell chimed again, even as Sister Mary Cynthia entered the kitchen. "This doesn't look like Mr and Mrs Busby," she commented shyly.
"They're not. But I have a feeling they're at the door. Take a seat and Patsy will introduce you," Delia told her as she got up.
The young Welsh woman hurried to open the door and was greeted by another hug, this time from her father.
"Merry Christmas sweetheart," he declared loudly, a huge smile on his face.
"Happy Christmas Dad. Come in."
Gerraint picked up some bags and stepped in so that he no longer blocked the way between Delia and her mother.
"Merry Christmas cariad," Mrs Busby greeted, kissing her daughter on both cheeks. "You look tired. I hope you haven't been overdoing it."
For once, Mrs Busby sounded like she was genuinely concerned, rather than simply admonishing her daughter.
"I haven't really had much choice Mam. But it's not for too much longer," Delia admitted honestly.
"In which case, let's make the most of the time we have together," Mr Busby declared. He made his way confidently down the hall towards the kitchen. "Your brothers are cursing you by the way."
"Why?" Delia frowned as she helped her mother with yet more bags.
"Don't listen to him. He's teasing me because I insisted on bringing all the leftover turkey and gammon so we could have cold meat and pickles," Enid explained as she followed her daughter.
"Did you know Auntie Blod was coming over?"
"Only when she told me yesterday," Mrs Busby remarked. "That's what gave me the idea."
As they entered the kitchen, Delia saw her father greeting everyone. She was grateful that he was polite enough to simply shake the hands of Sisters Monica Joan and Mary Cynthia. He was far more exuberant with Patsy and the others.
Within moments, the group decided that it would be nice to eat a late lunch first. Sister Monica Joan's face lit up with the food that was produced. Sister Mary Cynthia insisted that they were guests and shouldn't have brought so much.
Enid was almost affronted. "Sister, I hope I don't have to remind you of Jesus's teaching of generosity and being neighbourly. Especially at this time of the year."
Delia rolled her eyes. "Mam."
"Don't you Mam me, I'm your mother. And I'll have no-one think that we don't think of others."
Liz took pity on Sister Mary Cynthia who looked overwhelmed by the situation. "How about you reserve judgement on what we should and shouldn't have brought until you taste Blod's pickled onions and chutney?" Her eyes glittered mischievously. "Then you can at least admonish one of the Davies sisters for the sin of pride."
Sister Mary Cynthia smiled gratefully. "Alright. I think I can manage that."
Gerraint had insisted on bringing Christmas crackers so that everyone could wear a silly paper hat and read out the awful jokes. He made a point of trying to come up with a more ridiculous answer than the one provided on the cracker, and Liz and Patsy soon caught on.
Blodwen looked at them balefully after all three used the same particularly risqué double entendre as an answer. "Do I have to worry that the three of you are turning into an unholy trinity?"
Patsy did her best to look innocent, even as she nodded at Liz to pour her another glass of wine. "I simply think that you happen to associate with some very smart people."
"Associate with?" Liz looked amused. "I must remember that."
Patsy shot her a warning look before glancing meaningfully at the Sisters but Liz simply winked and poured herself a drink.
Blodwen was not so forgiving. "Behave Liz," she warned sternly.
Instantly the tall blonde teacher was contrite. "Of course."
It was Patsy's turn to grin and wink. Liz rolled her eyes. "Oh like you're not the same."
Eventually, even Sister Monica Joan had eaten enough, and short work was made of washing up and putting away all the crockery and utensils used. The elderly nun insisted on keeping Blod's lemon drizzle cake available on the table, just in case she got peckish a bit later and a large pot of tea was made, while Liz and Patsy joined forces to make a pitcher of Pink Gin Fizz.
Once everyone was settled with their beverage, Gerraint produced a pack of cards.
"Oh, I'm sorry Mr Busby. As nuns, we cannot take part in gambling." Mary Cynthia was most apologetic.
The Welsh man smiled broadly. "Tell me Sister, do you play pairs or Old Maid?"
The young nun frowned but nodded.
"We're simply playing a version of that, so it shouldn't be a problem for you."
Delia groaned. "You're not going to teach them 'Pit' are you?" She asked.
"Yes cariad," her father replied. "And it's very simple." He looked round quickly. "There are eight of us here, so I need 8 sets of cards." He laid down the cards. There were various pictures showing; wheat, corn and other commodities. "I'll mix all these up and deal them out. You get nine cards each," he explained as he expertly shuffled the cards. "The object of the game is to get a complete set. You can swap single cards, pairs or triples if you want. But you can't cheat. All the cards you swap must be the same." He looked round. "It's not done on a turn by turn basis. It's all done simultaneously. Which means you might send a pair of cards out you don't want to someone and someone else hands them back to you seconds later. It can get quite frustrating."
He then started dealing. "Once you get all nine of the set, you shout out 'Pit.' It's that simple."
"This doesn't sound much like fun," Patsy murmured.
Delia grinned. "Just give it a bit of time," she advised.
At first, the people around the table were both polite and restrained as they attempted to swap cards, but as people got closer to completing a set, the volume in the room increased and the speed of swapping became frantic. Sister Monica Joan was demonic in her obsession with swapping cards and made no secret of hiding any frustration if she failed to add to the set she was working on.
Within minutes, everyone was shouting, and standing round the table in a desperate attempt to be the first to complete the set. To everybody's astonishment, it was quiet Sister Mary Cynthia who literally screamed "P I T!" First. She looked as surprised as everyone else and there was a moment of utter silence, before the others laughed.
Patsy had to dab the tears away from her eyes, she was laughing so hard.
Gerraint smiled at the women in the room. "Another round?" He asked cheekily.
After several rounds, and several top ups of drinks, they decided to change game.
"Right, get a pad of paper and some pencils Delia," Liz instructed.
"This sounds complicated already," Blod grumbled.
"Well it's not my fault you can't follow simple instructions," Liz shot straight back, eliciting grins from Patsy and Delia.
Enid simply raised an eyebrow. "Blod's never been interested with instructions, unless it's something to do with music. How you ever got to be a teacher is beyond me."
"We will always need music," Blod insisted firmly, not in the least bit cowed by her older sister.
Delia handed out pieces of paper and pencils to those around the table.
"This is a very simple parlour game," Liz declared, affixing Blodwen with a beady stare. "And it dates back to Victorian times so it should meet your approval." She smiled innocently at the two nuns at the table.
"The trick to this is how you fold your paper, so listen very carefully." Liz looked round at the others to make sure she had their attention.
Patsy smirked. "One can quite easily see why you're a teacher."
"Shhh. Now, everybody - write the name of a man at the top of the paper. I'd suggest a man we're all likely to have heard of."
Patsy's eyes widened. "Consequences?" She queried.
Liz nodded enthusiastically, her grin mirroring Patsy's own. "Now then, fold the paper over and away from you so you can no longer see what's written down." She demonstrated with hers first and, very much in teacher mode, made sure that the others had obeyed her instructions.
"Now pass the paper to the left." She waited until everyone had their neighbour's paper. "Now write the name of a famous woman. Once you've done that, fold the paper back and pass it on."
"I love this game," Gerraint declared.
"You've never played it before," Enid pointed out.
"Let me rephrase it then. I'm going to love this game."
Patsy snorted, knowing already that he would be up to mischief.
"Patsy," Delia warned, easily able to read her lover's thoughts.
"Sorry," the midwife apologised. She was unable to keep the grin off her face though.
Liz simply raised an eyebrow at Patsy before issuing the next instruction. "Now you need to write 'Met at... and then write down where they met."
Papers were swapped again. "The next line is 'He said...". She waited once more. "Then you write 'She replied...". She smirked as she watched Sister Monica Joan appear to write a small essay on her paper before folding it over and passing it on. "Now you write down something that they did together.. and finally you write 'And the consequence was...". Liz herself decided to write a small essay before folding the paper and passing it to her left.
"But what is the purpose of this activity?" Sister Monica Joan asked, a frown deepening across her brow.
Liz smiled. "Now you unfold the paper and read the whole lot out together." She nodded as she encouraged the elderly nun to do just that.
Sister Monica Joan carefully smoothed out the paper and squinted at it before reading it out loud.
Delia could sense trouble brewing as both Patsy and Liz were steadfastly staring at their drinks. She narrowed her eyes at them and tensed herself.
"Tarzan met Queen Victoria at Canterbury Cathedral." Sister Monica Joan frowned for a second before continuing. "He said, 'I'll only be able to do it by lying on my back.'"
She found that she had to stop again as she heard Patsy and Liz snigger, while Delia coughed. Patsy noticed Sister Mary Cynthia flush slightly and surmised that she hadn't really thought that comment through.
Sister Monica Joan carried on. "She replied, 'It will take more than bleach to get that clean."
A snort came from Gerraint this time and Mrs Busby massaged her temples. "Give me strength," she muttered.
"Then, he taught her how to blow on his clarinet." Sister Monica Joan looked up, clear disapproval on her face. "That is very clumsy phrasing," she berated in general. Patsy's shoulders shook as she tried to keep her laughter in, but failed she saw both Blodwen and Mrs Busby shoot daggers at Delia's father while he carefully kept his features neutral. Her laugh set off Liz and Delia and it took them several seconds to compose themselves.
Sister Monica Joan waited for the room to calm down before finishing the tale. "And the consequence was that she rode naked down the street on horseback."
"Well that didn't take very long to sink into the gutter," Enid muttered, her gaze firmly on Gerraint.
"I don't know what you mean." Mr Busby sounded most offended.
"What a marvellous entertainment. Do read out the next one Mrs Busby," Sister Monica Joan demanded.
"Er, I don't know," the Welsh woman hedged, dreading what she was about to unveil.
"I insist. I cannot believe we have not had the fortune to partake in such a simple construct before. Hurry. Now that I understand the premise of this story-making I wish to engage again before Compline." Sister Monica Joan was not one to take no for an answer.
When the nuns eventually excused themselves to go to prayers, the rest of the group moved into the drawing room and exchanged gifts. Patsy was delighted to receive a large box of Newberry Fruits from Mr and Mrs Busby, much to Delia's disgust. Mrs Busby was clearly pleased with her matching hat and scarf.
It was Delia's present from Blodwen and Liz that garnered most attention however. As she unfolded and held up the garment she looked at her aunt in surprise. "Jeans, Auntie? But I've never worn them."
Patsy looked approvingly at Liz and Blod and then had to carefully control her features. Her mind was racing at the thought of denim stretched across Delia's backside.
"Jeans?" Enid sounded most disapproving. "That's not suitable attire for a woman," she demurred.
"I wear them," Patsy and Liz said in unison.
Mrs Busby narrowed her eyes slightly. "I know you do."
"It's the 60s Delia. I think it's about time you got up to date with fashion," Auntie Blod explained. "And there's nothing wrong with wearing jeans or trousers, Enid." She looked at her sister defiantly.
"What a marvellous gift," Gerraint lauded, beaming at his daughter and instantly defusing the slight tension that had risen. He raised his eyebrows at the look Mrs Busby gave him. "There's no use looking at me like that. Jeans are very practical. Delia will be climbing trees again in no time."
Delia laughed. "I haven't climbed a tree since I was 12."
"Then it's been far too long," her father told her with a smirk.
Enid gulped back the last of her sherry. She looked at her sister and daughter speculatively. "Sometimes I think the pair of you have far more in common than I ever will have." She sounded maudlin.
"That is the highest compliment you could ever give me Enid," Blod answered immediately. "Your Delia is the daughter I would always have wanted." She smiled fondly at her niece. "But remember, just because we do things our own way, it doesn't mean that we love you any less."
Delia nodded in agreement.
Gerraint glanced at his pocket watch before sighing regretfully. "I'm so sorry to break up this soirée but your Mam and me have a long journey. Do you think we could have a cuppa before heading back?"
Delia smiled, though she was disappointed that the evening was drawing to a close. "Of course, Dad."
"What about you two?" Patsy asked, looking at Blodwen and Liz.
"Well, being teachers means that we've got the rest of this week off," Liz declared. "Although we will have to go in and prepare for next term at some point."
"You're welcome to stay the night if you want another drink. We can put you up in Barbara and Phyllis's room," Patsy offered. She couldn't quite keep the smirk off her face as she added, "As long as you don't mind sharing."
Liz opened her mouth, clearly intent on upping the innuendo stakes but Blodwen beat her to it. "That would be lovely. I'm sure I can put up with Liz for one night." The Welsh woman knew that her sister was well aware of her relationship with the other teacher, and Patsy and Delia's relationship for that matter, but there was no need to rub her nose in it.
"You do know that we'll have to be up for 8 o'clock to start rounds. You'll probably have to forage on your own and let yourselves out. Is that alright?"
"We'll be just fine. In fact, wake us up and we'll join you for breakfast. That way we can say goodbye properly. And thank you. It's incredibly generous for you to put us up on a whim," Blodwen replied.
"If it means you being here for a while longer, then it's no trouble at all. I'll write a note for Sister Mary Cynthia so she knows we have overnight guests." Patsy smiled as she got up. "Now that we've sorted out the arrangements, would you like another gin?" Patsy offered.
"I thought you'd never ask," Liz sighed with relief.
Patsy snuggled in behind Delia and sighed contentedly.
"You sound happy." Delia leaned back into her lover's hold and luxuriated in the warmth the taller woman radiated.
"Do you know what, Deels? I think today rates as one of the best Christmases I've ever had," she declared.
"I do think I'll be apologising to the Sisters for months after all that shouting and those rude consequences," Delia muttered, feeling herself blush as she recalled some of the constructed stories.
Patsy sniggered. "I'm not altogether convinced that some of the racier ones didn't come from Sister Monica Joan."
"Don't be ridiculous," Delia refuted instantly.
"I recognised the writing. Behind a veil of anonymity she has quite the filthy mind."
Delia laughed out loud at that. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe a nun would write down those things. But it was a hoot. I thought Mam was going to burst a blood vessel at one point."
Patsy snuggled in tightly. "It felt nice today. Like I was part of the family."
"Given how well you get on with Liz and she's been part of the family for years, I think you can most certainly consider yourself part of it too." Delia traced random patterns on Patsy's forearm and smiled softly. "So if this was one of the best Christmases you've had, what one was the best?" She whispered.
"I think you know," Patsy murmured into the back of Delia's neck. "Although I'm quite happy to engage in a repeat of the last part of it, just to remind you."
Delia twisted round and looped her arms round Patsy's neck. "I thought you'd never ask," she breathed as she pulled Patsy towards her and captured her love's lips with her own.
~Finis~