Dearest Delia,

As best as I have tried, I've been unable to avoid it any longer. My rota has brought me back to the place I associate most with you. The smells and sounds of the hospital hit me like a crashing wave as I passed through its doors, bringing back memories of our first meeting. Will you remember that someday? Had I known what was in store, would I have stopped you in the corridor so long ago? Yes, a thousand times yes, for the pain and loss are nothing compared to a life that never knew you.

I struggle to keep up appearances, more now than ever before. No one must know because no one can understand or care of what you meant to me. What you mean to me. No one is an island and yet one can't help but feeling adrift, lost in a world that doesn't understand. I hold on to the hope that one day things will be better for people like you and I, that the future will be a brighter place.

I saw an old poster for the square dance today among the other bulletins. It was hidden under hundreds of notices, posts for lost items, schedules. It wasn't that long ago, but with all that happened it feels like an eternity. And that is how I live my life now, by a schedule, going through the motions. I remember dancing, the only dancing we may ever have and had to excuse myself to the ladies. I must be braver, for you.

Tonight, I shall put on some music. You left a few records at Nonnatus the last time you visited, I suppose I must return them eventually. Trixie has some mysterious business or meeting to attend to and shan't be back for a while. So, for a few fleeting hours, I think I will dance in my head and remember our happy moments together.

Please be safe,

Pats

Pulling the newly acquired shoebox from under her bed, Patsy careful tucks her latest missive out of sight, rearranging the tidily folded square dance poster in the process. "Good memories," Patsy mutters, before sliding the box back into place.