"Yes, more than anything. To you, you fool. But I cant, so that's that"
Patsy felt helpless, she was drowning under the guilt that she had brought this upon Delia and herself. Why didn't she stay quiet, keep her feelings to herself? Although those things would have been useless and patsy new it. Delia was always the one, pushing their friendship and later their relationship forward. And now she was going to lose her.
Delia had walked off, leaving her standing, staring after her. Before Patsy had realised, she was out of reach – far beyond the running distance of her high heels. She had no idea what she was going to do. Of course, she had felt that way, many times but she never let in – knowing that it was not possible, that it would never be possible. But she did not know that her beautiful Delia had felt the same. How long had she been feeling like this? Was this Delia saying she couldn't cope anymore? Her poor sweet Delia, how long had she been dealing with this internal struggle.
The walk back to Nonnatus was a long and cold one, without Delia by her side. They had always taken it in turns, walking each other home – slowly, and with quiet, longing conversation, with neither one of them wanting to end their brief time together. However, with no welsh girl by her side, the only conversation was that of the dockyard gulls calling their goodnight squawks to one another – normally a soothing end to the night, now haunting her every step – a reminder that she should have the fiery brunet by her side.
It was quiet when she entered the building that she called home and looking at the on-call board it was clear why. Both Trixie and Barbara had been called out leaving Sister Winifred as next on call, although she suspected that that should be it as two babies in one night is a rare occurrence. She sat on the bed, slowly contemplating the evening that had just taken place. The feeling of losing someone bringing up old memories from times passed.
That shoe box, the old tattered grey box that lay peacefully under her bed, undisturbed for most of the year soon found its way into Patsy's hands. Inside held all that was from a childhood long ago, all that was left from family that used to be so close, now all but extinct. She thumbed through the small number of belongings, carefully admiring each individual one. Her mothers compact, her fathers copy of the king James bible, a scarf whose scent had long since faded – but the memories still remained. At the bottom of the box, tucked away in a corner was a chain. She was surprised that it had not been lost or forgotten during the many times that she had moved.
A silver banded, ring was attached at the end. The chain being the only way for her mother to smuggle the ring through the camp – the chain keeping it hidden from any looking guards. A small simple flower was the only feature, however the simple look made it stand out – it was not flashy or meant for showing off, it was there to serve a simple purpose. Showing someone how much you loved them. This was her mother's response when patsy had asked about the ring when she was little, for it didn't matter that her father was rich or not, it only mattered that he loved her mother and showed so in a ring that was not as Dimond coated as her mother's friends – in fact the ring did not have a single diamond. But instead was of her mother's favourite flower – showing that he truly did care.
Patsy had been fascinated by the ring when she was small, how the colours on a bright and sunny day reflected making a perfect rainbow of colour. How the dark stone in the middle, seemed to lure her in – gazing at its beauty, and how right up until the end – her mother refused to part from it. Now it was a last connection to her parents, and she couldn't think of a more fitting next chapter for the ring.
As the night drew to a close, Patsy could be found clutching said ring to her chest.