Trixie couldn't help looking around in wonder as she walked through the swanky lobby of the hotel. Of course being married to Matthew she'd stayed in her fair share of similar hotels over the years, but she could still admire them. It seemed Patsy had come some way in embracing her family's fortune if she was staying in places like this.
Approaching the dining room, she allowed herself a moment to glance over the patrons; businessmen doing deals over lunch, tourists treating themselves to afternoon tea, spoilt brats spending mummy and daddy's money on expensive hangover quenchers. And then there was Patsy, sat in the back corner. For heaven's sake, the woman even checked her phone in an elegant manner.
The blonde squeezed the handle of her cane tightly as she found herself being drawn towards her old friend. As Patsy looked up and their eyes met, it was like the years just slipped away, that iconic one-sided smile beaming up at her.
"Goodness, Nurse Franklin!" Patsy exclaimed, her voice laced with delight as she stood from her chair. "You haven't aged a day."
"Oh give over," Trixie grumbled, stepping in to tentatively embrace her old friend, only to find herself wrapped in a wonderfully warm hug. "I haven't aged half as gracefully as you!" she huffed, holding the former-redhead at arms length to take her in.
Patsy's response was to simply swat her on the arm before moving to pull Trixie's chair out for her.
"My my, such a gentleman," teased Trixie as she sat, her face already aching from smiling so hard. She was flooded with an unbridled sense of relief as her old roommate sat opposite her, all concerns about this little meet-up evaporating with the steam off the tea Patsy promptly poured for her from the tea service she must have ordered in advance of her arrival. "Truly Patsy, you look incredible! You certainly don't appear to be falling apart like some us," she griped playfully, waving her cane for emphasis.
"You can thank my personal trainer for that," Patsy admitted with a roll of her eyes, stirring sugar into her own cup, to Trixie's surprise. "At the first sign of osteoporosis back in my fifties I was given strict orders to start working out. I hated it in the beginning, but you know what? One of the best things I ever did. Your girl here can still back squat 60 kilos," Patsy gloated with a flick of her eyebrow.
"Your girl here? Really Patsy?" Trixie asked incredulously, pouring milk into her tea.
Patsy chuckled. "My apologies. I've been mentoring teenagers over the last few years, they've rubbed off on me. Anyway, enough about me, what's been happening in the world of Beatrix Franklin-Aylward?"
Trixie managed to abbreviate 60 odd years of history into about 20 minutes, telling Patsy about becoming the matron of the maternity home after it expanded, the eventual closing of Nonnatus House, when Matthew decided to start courting her 4 years after their first fateful meeting and then raising Jonathan, and continuing to work until only 6 years ago when a fall put her out of action. She was bemused to find Patsy hanging off her every word, though she contributed little herself beyond a few throwaway comments about her career, and enquiring briefly of mutual acquaintances. Trixie's pride may have gotten the better of her when the subject turned to Lainey.
"She sounds like a chip off the old block," Patsy beamed, helping herself to the tray of tiny sandwiches that had been delivered while Trixie was rambling.
"I don't know how, but she really is. In fact," Trixie fiddled with her teaspoon, butterflies suddenly flooding her belly, "It's because of her that we're sitting here right now." She glanced up at Patsy, unsure how her friend was going to take this turn in their conversation.
"Oh really? You mean you never would have looked me up otherwise?" Patsy teased gently.
"Honestly, probably not. We just sort of, fell out of each other's lives such a long time ago." Trixie's eyes dropped to the tablecloth, something fighting it's way out of her that she could barely admit to herself let alone anyone else. "Truthfully," her voice wobbled. "I was angry at you. For leaving me. For taking off without a backward glance. I understand why you had to do it, of course I do. But you were just another person who abandoned me."
She didn't realise her hands were shaking until Patsy's rested on top of them, squeezing them lightly.
"You have every right to be angry with me Trix," Patsy admitted quietly. "And I'm very sorry I did that to you. We were each other's rock, weren't we? A place to hide from the dark realities of the world we weren't ready to face up to."
"Two peas in a pod…well, tiny little room in an east end convent," Trixie chuckled, though her throat was tight, grasping the fingers she'd held as they playfully danced around their bedroom, or brushed as they exchanged cigarettes. "But that's all in the past. And we've lived our lives…" she raised her head to meet Patsy's eye, hoping that her old friend understood.
"And we've come back to each other again. It just took a while," Patsy smiled. "It seems fate takes the form of head strong granddaughters these days."
Trixie laughed openly at that. "Indeed. When she got accepted onto her nursing course she asked to see my old textbooks. She seems to think there's pearls of wisdom to be gleaned from them." The blonde took a deep breath, and reluctantly released Patsy's hand, leaning down to rummage in her handbag. "She found this one particularly interesting," she said, laying the book on the table between them.
Patsy pulled a spectacle case from her jacket pocket, popping a pair of elegant wire rimmed glasses onto her nose. "Good heavens," Patsy exclaimed, tracing her fingers over the cover. "That's a blast from the past."
"Probably more so than you think," Trixie hedged, flipping to the title page, to Patsy's handwriting.
"Oh," Patsy uttered. Trixie couldn't quite read her reaction. Patience Mount had always been a master at presenting facades after all. Taking the bull by the horns, Trixie turned to the page with the song lyrics, marked by the wad of folded notes. She watched Patsy draw a deep breath. "This is Delia's handwriting. Isn't it?"
Patsy simply glanced up at her, face closed.
"Were the two of you…in love?" Trixie asked, hoping that her tone conveyed that Patsy would find no judgement here.
Patsy sighed, and then nodded, running a slightly shaky hand through her hair.
"Oh Patsy," Trixie uttered softly, wanting to reach out and grasp her friend's hand, to return the comfort she had offered her, but she wasn't sure how the taller woman would take it. "I'm sorry you felt you couldn't tell me."
"We couldn't tell anyone," Patsy finally said, her voice tight. "The fewer people that knew the safer we were. One or two people suspected, but we never confirmed it."
Trixie gave in to the pull and squeezed Patsy's hand, grateful to feel her squeeze back. "That must have been very lonely for you."
"You have no idea," Patsy groaned, before her eyes widened in horror. "I'm so sorry Trixie that was so dismissive of me. You had to carry your own secrets for so long."
Waving her hand, Trixie scoffed at her old roommate. "Oh really Patience, this isn't the trauma olympics. Alcoholism might have been taboo back in the 60s, but at least there were socially acceptable support systems. You would have almost certainly lost your job, regardless of how much Sister Julienne adored you." She watched Patsy carefully, the tension in her brow still visible. "That is to say, I understand why you couldn't tell me, but I very much wish I could have been there for you. Especially when Delia had her accident. I must say I am very impressed at your acting abilities, Ms Mount."
Finally, Patsy chuckled. "You're not a bad actress yourself, Mrs Franklin-Aylward."
"We do what we have to do, don't we," Trixie shrugged.
They sat with the acknowledgement, and Trixie felt content that it was understood that there was no judgement between them. She watched as Patsy's eyes drifted back down to the book, her fingers drifting lightly over the handwriting that was notably curvier than her own.
"I presume you weren't letting Delia leave you little love notes in lectures.
"Oh Lord no," Patsy laughed. "No, that started when we were revising for her 2nd year and my 3rd year exams. I believe you witnessed her revision for the mids at Nonnatus? She was never the most focused student, but she had an excellent memory. All these little notes were an attempt to distract me. Cheeky little devil." The smile on Patsy's face was small and wistful. "Suffice to say this textbook was safely stashed away once she started. Goodness knows how it ended up in your possession."
"Your things did get packed up in rather a hurry when Sister Julienne realised she'd need to engage a new midwife once you left. I remember Delia being rather disgruntled with us all for a few days after we cleared your side of the room. Now, I understand why."
"That doesn't surprise me. After Barbara's wedding I found a few of my things Delia had squirrelled away, sentimental old thing. I didn't exactly have time to go through everything before we fled the country," Patsy sighed.
"You did what you needed to do," Trixie reassured.
"Yes, but in hindsight it was incredibly selfish of me. Delia had barely qualified when I whisked her away. I set her back in her career. But all I could see was what I needed, and that was her, and to escape." Patsy fiddled with the corner of the page, apparently not entirely present.
"Truly Patsy, I know I didn't know her as well as you, but I can't imagine Delia ever begrudging you that. Not after everything you'd both been through. Right?"
The shrug was small, the Patsy sitting in front of her one Trixie had only caught fleeting glimpses of when they were younger.
A terrible thought suddenly struck her. "She didn't, did she? Delia didn't leave you?"
Patsy blinked at her, a single tear tumbling down her cheek. Trixie could only think of one reason Patsy would look so haunted.
"Oh Patsy. She's not…dead, is she?"
The harrowed look was swiftly replaced by surprise. "Heavens Trixie," Patsy exclaimed, dabbing at her eyes. "You haven't lost your flair for the dramatic, have you!"
Trixie hesitated. "So…she is still alive?"
"Very much so," Patsy chuckled, retrieving a handkerchief from her handbag. "She's upstairs having a lie down. She's a little tired after an appointment at the the Royal London."
"Is she ill?"
"No," Patsy stated emphatically. "She's been taking part in a study on the effects of the aging process on historic traumatic brain injuries. The appointments just wipe her out."
"Well I'm extremely relieved to hear that," Trixie sighed, a little miffed at Patsy, and at herself for reaching such terrible conclusions. "You just looked so sad."
Patsy cocked her head in acknowledgment. "Those are hard times to remember. And I haven't thought about them much in a long time, aside from remembering what a beautiful girl Delia was. Not that she isn't still exquisite, of course. But apparently it's time to take that period of my life back to my therapist. It seems I'm still holding onto some guilt."
"Patsy Mount seeing a therapist?!" Trixie asked, aghast.
"I know, I know, wonders will never cease," Patsy grinned. "Another thing Delia eventually persuaded me to do. And also excruciating to start with. Have you ever tried it?"
"Aside from the group counselling element with the AA, not really," shrugged Trixie. "I did try with a couple of counsellors but never really clicked with it. Not that I'm not a fierce advocate of it, of course!"
"Of course," Patsy nodded knowingly. "Sometimes the advice we dish out is the hardest to take for ourselves. Delia had to go to drastic lengths to get me to even book a first appointment."
"It seems to have done you good," Trixie smiled. "You really do look so happy, especially compared to the last time I saw you."
"I'm happy because I've been able to truly live my life, alongside someone I couldn't love more if I tried." The slight blush that coloured Patsy's cheeks suited her.
"Speaking of that someone you couldn't love more if you tried, do you think she'd be up for a visit? Or should we leave it for another time?" Trixie asked, draining her teacup.
That lopsided smile reappeared. "I think a visit from an old friend might be just the tonic."
Trixie's eyes bulged as she followed Patsy into her hotel room. Sorry, suite. "My my Patsy, this is all a bit swish, isn't it?"
"Just a little bit," Patsy smiled, setting her handbag down on a side table. "We've always lived modestly, but now that we're old we allow ourselves a little luxury when we travel. And it's always amusing explaining to the desk staff that no, there has not been a mistake with our booking, yes, these two old biddies will be sharing a bed," Patsy grinned wickedly.
"Patsy Mount, you are a dark horse," Trixie chuckled.
"No point changing the habit of a lifetime," shrugged Patsy, heading towards the bedroom door. "Make yourself comfortable Trix, I'll see how she's getting on."
Trixie nodded, and Patsy disappeared into the darkened room.
The blonde took a moment to breathe, a little overwhelmed by the whirlwind this visit had turned out to be. She truly was delighted to find her friend so well and happy. Gone was the facade the woman used to hide behind, the over-bright smile and musical greetings that masked years of trauma. She had to admit though that she was sad to have lost so many years of knowing this Patsy, and Delia too, all because she had begrudged her leaving. She could only hope they had time for her to make it up to them.
The click of the door brought her back to the room in time to see a beaming steely-haired Delia watching her from the doorway, Patsy a stoic figure behind her.
"Trixie."
"Oh Delia," Trixie whispered, leaning heavily on her cane, another wave of emotion rushing over her. Lainey might have been the final catalyst, but without Delia this reunion would never have happened. The two drifted towards each other and Trixie couldn't help admiring the smiling face before her. "I had no idea I'd missed those dimples so much until now." Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and Trixie surrendered to the embrace, unexpected tears falling down her face.
"It's good to see you too Trix," the Welshwoman murmured against her shoulder, giving her a squeeze before easing away. "Are you alright, cariad?" she asked the weeping blonde.
"Oh don't mind me," Trixie chuckled through her tears. "Just being a daft old bat is all."
"There has never been anything daft about you Trixie," Patsy said as she handed her a tissue. "It's been quite a day."
"That it has," Trixie nodded, wiping her eyes. "Mine's not been as long as yours though, so don't worry about me."
"Now don't you dare start that," Delia assured, gently guiding Trixie over to the sofa. "I'm still tough as old boots me, I can certainly take anything you've got to throw at me." She sat down next to Trixie, taking the slightly older woman's hand. "I was just debating whether to come down and join the two of you, but I wasn't sure if this one had managed to spill the beans yet."
"You managed to spill the beans for us many moons ago, my love," Patsy deadpanned, passing Delia the fateful textbook before dropping into the armchair next to the sofa.
"I did?" Delia took the book with a frown, taking the hint that she needed to open the book and flipped through a few pages. "Oh good heavens, I'd forgotten all about these!" she exclaimed, turning the pages with a small gasp of wonder. "Oh Pats, what was I like?! I can't believe I was this brazen."
"You were a little minx is what you were," Patsy pointed out with an indulgent smile. "Not that much has changed in that regard."
Delia glared playfully at her…partner? Wife? Girlfriend? Trixie realised she hadn't gotten around to asking that one, but was rather derailed from seeking clarification when Delia found the folded notes.
"Marlene Dietrich," Delia giggled. "She always was your weak spot, wasn't she annwyl."
"No worse than Anita Ekberg was for you. Or Greta Garbo for that matter, you even named the blasted dog after her," Patsy grinned, dodging a swat to her knee.
"Oh Patsy, you are awful," Trixie chastised. "Really Delia, I don't know how you've put up with her all these years."
Delia hummed. "She has her moments, that's for sure."
Trixie leaned her side against the back of the sofa, giving Delia her full attention. "And I want to hear all about it."
The sunset was turning the sky rosy by the time Delia was through with their potted history, and Trixie couldn't remember when she'd last laughed so much. It was almost like being back in their old room at Nonnatus, only everything was out in the open.
"Now, there's one last thing I'm dying to hear about but you seem to have omitted from your story Delia." The couple both looked at her curiously. "What was your wedding like?"
A surprised "oh" was all that Delia managed, before Patsy waded in.
"We didn't have a wedding Trix."
"Excuse me? You've been together over 60 years, and you haven't married this absolute angel of a woman?!" Trixie asked incredulously, grasping Delia's hand tightly. "Patsy Mount, how could you?"
Patsy shrugged. "We didn't need the extravagance."
"Patsy—" Trixie started, exasperated.
"What? We didn't," Patsy stressed. "Our solicitor tied everything up as tight as he could after my father's death to make sure that Delia would always be provided for should anything happen. And when Civil Partnerships were allowed that tied up most of the remaining loose ends."
Trixie's eyes rolled so hard she thought she saw her own brain. The ever practical Patience Mount was still so…practical! But she hadn't missed the irked sigh from Delia either. And from the look on the Welshwoman's face, this was an old conversation. "Honestly Patsy, are you really that obtuse?"
"Hang on a minute old thing—"
"No, you hang on, and listen to me," Trixie insisted, only prevented from rising in fury by her hip. "You didn't see Delia when we were all planning Barbara's wedding in our bedroom, how excited she got over dress patterns, and…oh Delia, now I understand that look on your face when we were making that poor Australian girl's last minute wedding veil! Truly Patsy, how could you deny the woman you couldn't love more if you tried the day of her dreams?"
Patsy sat there looking absolutely gobsmacked. It took her several moments before she found her voice again. "Is that true, Deels? Have I been that obtuse?"
"No, cariad—"
"Delia!" Trixie warned, not willing to let her young friend be denied.
"Well…maybe a little Pats," Delia cringed. "I suppose you've forgotten an argument we had in an alleyway one dreary evening? I think something had happened at the maternity home."
Patsy dropped her face into her hands with a groan. "No. I remember that night. You were threatening to marry a man because you couldn't marry me!"
"I don't think I was actually threatening that—"
"Oh Lord Delia, I have been obtuse, haven't I!" Patsy sighed and shook her head. "Right, well there's only one thing to be done."
She pushed herself up out of the chair, and Trixie watched the uncertainty flicker over Delia's face as Patsy crossed to the sofa and very carefully knelt down in front of her.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Delia asked, her voice wobbling, her grip on Trixie's hand tight as a vice.
"Something I clearly should have done a long, long time ago Deels," confessed Patsy, taking Delia's other hand.
"You really don't have to do this Pats, I know perfectly well how much you love me," Delia squeaked.
"Yes, but now it's time the rest of the world knew too, so." Patsy adjusted so that she was kneeling on one knee, and eased Delia's hand from Trixie's grasp, holding them reverently. "Delia Busby, if you can forgive me for being a complete and utter fool, will you do me the honour of marrying me?"
For several long moments Delia just stared at Patsy, watery eyed.
"Come on Deels, don't leave me hanging," Patsy chuckled nervously. "Although I suppose I deserve it."
"You really are a fool, aren't you," giggled Delia, a tear escaping down her cheek.
"Rather looking for a yes or a no here, darling."
To Trixie's surprise, Delia rolled her eyes with a tut. "Yes, you daft old woman, of course I'll marry you!"
Trixie couldn't help clapping with delight as Delia tugged Patsy to her and kissed her soundly. "It's about bloody time Patience," she laughed, shuffling to the edge of the sofa. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to it, but I'd better be getting an invitation when you set the date."
"You can count on it Trix," Patsy beamed up at her as the blonde found her feet. "Let's not leave it another 60 years before we meet up again, all right?"
"Certainly not," Trixie insisted, gripping her cane and making her way out the door. "I love you both, keep looking after each other!" she called as she pulled the door closed behind her.
Leaning against the wall outside, she smiled gleefully to herself. All in all, this meet up couldn't have gone much better.