Going back to work hadn't been as hard as Patsy expected. She'd expected whispers and sidelong glances and possibly outright nosiness, but everyone was surprisingly understanding and Patsy was sure she had Trixie to thank for it. Patsy just knuckled down and got right back to it, gratified that patients she'd left in the care of other doctors were too overjoyed to see her return that they didn't ask questions.
Her first visit to the therapist had been uncomfortable, but not as traumatic as she'd initially feared. She let Louise's words percolate through her subconscious as she worked, trying to come to grips with how to proceed.
At the end of her first shift (a day shift, Dr Turner was apparently coddling her) she headed back to Trixie's, greeted at the door by a glass of wine, freshly prepared stir fry and a sympathetic smile. Patsy burst into tears, remembering the many times that Lucy had welcomed her home the same way, and then had to spend twenty hiccup-y minutes trying to reassure Trixie that she'd really done nothing wrong.
When they both finally calmed down, Patsy stared mournfully at the now congealed mess in her bowl and sighed.
"I really do think it's time for me to leave you in peace. I've imposed long enough."
"It's not an imposition!"
"It is. You've been lovely about absolutely everything, but the truth is I'm going to be an emotional wreck for the foreseeable future and it's just not fair to subject you to that."
"Patsy!" Frustrated. "It's precisely because you're so emotionally unstable that I don't want you on your own. You've cried on me more times in the last week than in the whole seven years we've been friends."
"Yes and I'm sure you're quite tired of it." Darkly. "I know I am."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"It's anything but ridiculous. I think it's well past time for me to face some demons on my own."
"Patsy…"
"Honestly Trix. I need some space to think some things through." A pause. "Remember the whole point of going to see a therapist was so I can start working on some of my issues." She knew that one would hit home, watched in satisfaction as her best friend's indignant posture softened. "She's already raised some points that I need time to consider. It's probably not going to be pretty." Deprecating.
Trixie nodded slowly. Conceding defeat. "I understand. I do wish you'd let me help you though."
"You've helped me so much already." A deep breath. "I really am very grateful Trix. I'm not sure I would have managed without you." It came out stilted. Forced even. Patsy cursed her father for crippling her so effectively, making it feel so unnatural to connect with people emotionally.
But Trixie knew and Trixie understood and her response was simply to clasp Patsy's hand. Smile gently.
And help Patsy pack up her minimal belongings.
As opening night of the school play drew inexorably closer, the whispers grew in frequency and became increasingly speculative. Patsy became implicated by association, and so she was forced to listen to deliberately uncharitable and mean-spirited rumours about their relationship, knowing full well that no-one actually believed it was true. They were merely grist for the mill.
She spent ninety eight percent of her time desperate for a cigarette, but unable to indulge her craving because Delia had begged her to quit. That other two percent was starting to feel insufficient to make up for the deficit.
It was so very hard for them to find any time together. Eyes were on them constantly, and the tension was so fraught that they ended up snapping irritably at one another more often than being able to enjoy each other's company.
Delia's eyes, usually so blue and calm and cheerful, had sharpened to a perpetual, tight, icy grey. Her features, once so carefree and full of joy, had likewise tightened. Her mouth turned downward into an unhappy frown.
The only time Patsy saw Delia relaxed was on stage. Somehow when she inhabited Olivia she did it wholeheartedly and unreservedly. Her sly grins, her flashing eyes and infectious laugh came out on stage, and so Patsy lived for rehearsals. Basked in those precious minutes when Delia could be herself. Could be happy.
It was oddly normal walking back into her home. Despite the cavernous silence, the slight musty smell of abandonment. It felt like coming home after a marathon week of back to back shifts, and she almost called out for Lucy. Caught herself just in time.
Patsy made herself a cup of tea, and curled into her favourite armchair. The soft glow of the nearby lamp her only illumination. Lit a cigarette and guiltily relished Lucy's absence. She never usually smoked in the house.
Stared at her phone for a long, ponderous moment - then typed a message and hit send before she could think better of it.
Hello Delia. You did see me on the train that night. I spotted you on the platform.
As it turns out I will be attending the conference. Maybe we can catch up.
Patsy
The response was almost immediate.
Hi. I was wondering if you'd ever reply. To be honest I was surprised you even accepted my friend request.
I'm really looking forward to seeing you. I want to hear all about your life.
There were so many things she wanted to say. So many things she wanted to know. But online messaging wasn't the best forum for such discussion. And so her fingers hovered over the keys for a long moment. Long enough that the screen dimmed from inactivity, and finally went black.
A minute later it beeped back into life.
Patsy? I'm sorry.
Patsy lit another cigarette. Stared into the evening gloom, unseeing. Lost in thought.
Opening night arrived before Patsy was ready for it. She was working on sets, and so wouldn't really get to see the play. Wouldn't get to see Delia in her element. Could only catch glimpses from the wings, and so before the show started she sought Delia out. Intent on wishing her good luck.
Delia was already in costume, and in character, and she was just so beautiful that it made Patsy's heart hurt. With bravado that Delia was recently lacking but Olivia seemed to have in spades, the smaller girl drew Patsy into a secluded nook backstage. Folded the curtain around them, and in that tiny, precious space kissed Patsy so intently that all she could hear was the blood pounding in her veins, the rushing heave of breath. And then Delia was gone as Ms Keville called for lights and Patsy stood, bewildered.
It was only after long minutes had passed, when she shook her head to clear it of Delia-induced fog, that Patsy caught a glimpse of the Headmistress.
Heart sinking, she wondered what the Headmistress had seen.
But then the play started and she was so busy racing around, preparing props and rearranging the stage that her fear receded to the very back of her mind, and it was only hours later, after the curtains had closed to thunderous applause and the whole crew had retreated to their beds, exhausted, that the memory came rushing back.
Had she seen them? Even if she hadn't, it was obvious that something was going on behind the curtain. Patsy was certain the Headmistress was well aware of the rumours circulating amongst the student body. It only remained to wait until tomorrow, to see what would eventuate.
Patsy agonised over whether to tell Delia. The younger girl had been so happy tonight, buoyed by the success of the play and adulation of the crowd. Patsy hated the idea of worrying her further, of dampening her rare good mood. But she didn't want Delia to be blindsided in case something did come of it.
She resolved to tell Delia as soon as the play was over. They were performing a three night run. Surely Delia deserved to be happy for two more nights.
The next two weeks both flew by in a blur, and dragged interminably. Patsy threw herself into her work, giving every last bit of physical and mental energy to her patients in an effort to fatigue herself to the point of insensibility and sleep. She saw Louise a couple more times, and Patsy really felt like she was making some progress. That she was finally starting to grapple some of the emotional skeletons in the back of her closet. But the biggest of all was Delia, and as the days marched on and the conference drew near, her anxiety and indecision about it became somewhat debilitating.
The morning of the conference opening saw her unable to sleep past 4am. Chain smoking until she was nauseated, until the sun glimmered above the horizon. A bright, menacing eye - taunting, making her eyes water and her head ache. Or maybe that was too many cigarettes.
She skulked into the convention centre with two minutes to spare, slipping into the main hall to hear the keynote speech from the back row. Only half of her attention on the presentation, the other acutely aware of every brunette head in the vicinity.
She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed to be unable to make out Delia in the nearby crowd.
The third and final show they performed was magical. The first two performances there had been forgotten lines and mild staging errors, the kind of thing one expected to happen in a school production. The final night, however, flowed like a dream. The actors remembered their lines and their marks, the costume changes worked seamlessly, and the sets seemed to melt into place. The whole evening progressed without so much as a single mishap, and the crew went ballistic with joyous excitement when the curtain closed for the last time.
Ms Keville had arranged a brief after party (they were amazed she'd managed to get the Headmistress to agree) and Patsy felt like she was hugged and congratulated by hundreds of people. There was only one person she wanted to hug, though, and Patsy was acutely aware of Delia's presence on the opposite side of the room.
Every so often she would glance Delia's way and their eyes would meet. A bolt of searing heat hitting her right in the chest, making her stomach flip pleasantly. A warm tugging sensation lower down in her belly. It was maddening, and when the party wrapped up Delia gestured subtly. Patsy would have followed her to the moon.
They met in a deserted classroom, lit only by the green emergency exit light above the door.
Patsy didn't need any more light to see by.
They came together in a rush of hands and lips and tongues and teeth and it was more, so much more. Patsy wanted to tell Delia how proud she was of her, how amazing and wonderful and just how much she loved her, but it was lost in the fervid heat of their bodies.
She had her hands under Delia's dress, Delia had rucked Patsy's shirt up and out of the way, when the measured pacing of a teacher in the corridor outside forced them apart. Panting, desperately trying remain silent, they listened as the footsteps paused. Resumed and were lost in the distance.
They stared at each other in shared relief. Both acutely aware that the moment was lost.
Were separating in the hallway outside Delia's dormitory when Patsy finally found her voice again.
"I'm so proud of you Deels."
Blue eyes gleamed in the low light. Almost luminescent with happiness.
"I love you."
She fell into a fitful slumber, fighting to stay awake and relive this incredible evening with Delia. Awoke the next morning from a dream in which Delia was lost, in which Patsy was doomed to wander the hallways calling for Delia and hearing only the whispering wind in response. The sense of foreboding was intense, and when her Head of House knocked on the door Patsy's heart constricted.
