Karen withdrew her hand from Delia's and stepped away from both nurses, as if afraid to have them close to her for what she was about to say. A small breeze entered the alley, ruffling her hair and sending ripples through the fabric of her dress.
"The place that we came out of… it's a club for queers,"
There was an audible gasp as Delia's hand flew to her mouth; she was unable to contain the horror of her realisation. Patsy turned her head to try to disguise her misery, and she felt a cold numbness rush into her chest. Part of her wanted to make Karen stop speaking; she felt as though she could not bear the injustice of the rest of her story.
"The men saw us leave and they saw me with Ruth, and they started yelling names at us. Ruth shouted at them to stop and that was when he hit her. The moment she hit the ground, they ran off, laughing and jeering, like we were freaks or animals or something," she stopped, eyeing the nurses determinedly, daring them to contradict her, "We're not,"
A stony silence descended. Nobody knew what to say, or how to proceed. Karen stepped backwards, placing more space between her and the other women, before resting her head on the wall and closing her eyes.
"Karen…" Delia began, but she was interrupted.
Karen did not move or open her eyes, but began to speak again. She sounded more detached and her voice suddenly seemed void of emotion, as if her grief was so great that she could no longer acknowledge it.
"I was supposed to protect her. I swore that, no matter what happened, I would stay by her and…," she paused, her hands clenched by her sides, "I've failed her,"
"No,"
Patsy's sudden protest caused her to reopen her eyes, and Karen stared over at her in shock.
"No, you haven't failed her," Patsy repeated, "And you haven't lost her either. We will do everything we can to look after you and her,"
Karen's lip, and she looked from Patsy to Delia in disbelief.
"You will?"
"Absolutely. Now, let's take another look and see what can be done,"
Patsy became immediately business-like, her usual, resourceful attitude coming back to her. She shrugged off her cardigan and handed it to Karen, who was shuddering from the cold. She then knelt down beside Ruth and lifted her face to try to rouse her. The girl groaned again, before pitching over to her right, and throwing up onto the ground beside her.
"How much did Ruth have to drink before the injury?" Delia asked.
"Not a lot. Not enough to make her sick at any rate,"
Patsy looked up, "I'm certain that it's concussion, Deels, probably a result from her fall to the ground. It would explain her drowsiness, vomiting, and the confusion that Karen described after the injury had happened,"
"What's concussion?" Karen demanded.
"It's a minor brain injury," Delia explained, "It's not serious, but Ruth does need to see a doctor,"
"You mean you can't treat her?"
"She might need medicine or surgery, and we can't give that to her here. If she has a swelling or a bleed on the brain, she will need to go to a specialist,"
Patsy reached into her handbag, which she had dropped onto the ground beside her, and pulled out a coin which she passed to Delia.
"Call for an ambulance, Deels. Tell them it's a suspected concussion, and, by the looks of it, a possible fractured wrist,"
Delia nodded and hurried up and onto the road above and headed off to the nearest telephone box. Patsy tried to help Ruth into a more comfortable position.
"Karen, do you think you would be able to try to keep Ruth talking, or at least awake? I want her to remain conscious so that I can tell if she starts getting any worse. I've got some antiseptic cream here, so I'm going to put a little on this graze on her arm,"
It did not take Patsy long to find the cream. She always kept a tube in her handbag. Years of following strict nursing procedure had left its mark, and she rarely went anywhere without at least a basic first aid kit on her person. She carefully squeezed a small amount onto her fingertips and began to rub it across the wounds, ensuring that she removed any pieces of gravel or clumps of dirt first. Ruth winced a little at the sensation, but soon settled down and allowed for the antiseptic to be applied.
As Patsy meticulously treated each cut, she heard Karen murmuring to Ruth. Not wanting to intrude, she dipped her head, focusing intently on the task at hand, yet she could still hear every word, and it made her heart want to burst.
Karen was holding Ruth's good hand and lovingly rubbing her thumb back and forth across her knuckles.
"I'm sorry, my darling," she whispered, "I won't ever let anybody hurt you ever again. We're going to get you to the hospital and you're going to be fine. You're going to open those gorgeous eyes of yours and poke fun at me for being so worried about you, and then we can walk out of there together. You'll moan about what agony your heels are to walk in, and we'll both take our shoes off and stagger barefoot all the way down the West India Docks and along Commercial Road, and we'll both laugh until we cry. How does that sound?"
There was a second of quiet as Karen leant in to Ruth's ear.
"I love you,"
The familiar burning sensation in Patsy's eyes and throat forced her to take a deep breath, pushing back the tears that now threatened to spill over.
"Have you got anything flat and rigid that I could use as a splint for Ruth's wrist?" Patsy asked, digging her nails into the palm of her hand to prevent her from choking up.
Karen looked up, brow furrowed in thought.
"I've got a comb, I think that's about it,"
Taking the comb from Karen, Patsy tested it, holding it at either end and pressing the centre with her thumbs. It was relatively sturdy, and she gave a nod of satisfaction.
"I just need something to fasten it to her wrist now,"
It was at this point that Delia returned, face rosy from the exertion of running to the telephone and back.
"Here," she said, untying the silk scarf from around her neck and passing it to Patsy, "That should do the trick,"
With skilful hands, Patsy lifted Ruth's wrist, which was now the colour of storm clouds due to the bruising, and placed the comb on the underside of her forearm, with the end of it just reaching into her palm. Delia held Ruth's arm steady whilst Patsy quickly wrapped the scarf around it, tying it off securely at the end. Smiling proudly at her handiwork, she placed Ruth's hand into her lap and sat back against the adjacent wall.
"What did the hospital say, Deels?"
"There's an ambulance on the way. They were confident that they could get here quickly,"
Delia sat down on the floor beside Patsy. Even in the dank smelling alley, she could still make out the wonderfully fragrant scent of Patsy's perfume, and for a second she forgot about the awful circumstances which had brought her to where she was now.
"What will we tell the doctor?"
Karen's timid question brought Delia plummeting back to reality.
"You do not have to tell them a thing," Patsy said firmly, "All you need to say is that a man shoved her in street and that she fell. You needn't tell them who or where or why,"
As the words left her lips, Ruth gave an unexpected moan and her head dropped down onto her chest. Clear fluid dripped from her nose onto her dress, leaving dark spots on the material. In the same minute, the loud noise of an engine indicated that the ambulance had arrived. Two men carrying a stretcher between them bounded into the alley, conferring briefly with Patsy and Delia, before lifting Ruth up and taking her into the ambulance.
"She's been in and out of consciousness, and there has been frequent vomiting and what appears to be cerebrospinal fluid leaking from her nose. I've put her wrist into a temporary splint, but I think it may be fractured, possibly even broken," Patsy quickly reeled off the information.
"Thank you for staying with her, this girl may owe you both a great deal," the paramedic replied soberly.
Karen was ushered into the back of the ambulance, but Patsy stopped her just as she was climbing in.
"If you need anything at all, Delia and I both live at Nonnatus House, so you know where to find us. I know that you and the hospital will give Ruth the best care possible. Just… look after yourself," Patsy's voice broke as she ran out of anything else to say.
Giving her hand a quick squeeze, Patsy moved backwards, allowing for the door to be shut and for the vehicle to drive away. It stormed out of the street, leaving a bleak emptiness in its wake. Quite abruptly, the street grew darker, and Patsy looked up to realise that the clouds, which had been clearing earlier, were now regathering, blocking out the stars which, only a few minutes ago, had been piercing through the blackness.