Chapter 2: I love how your eyes close whenever you kiss me...

…Friday the 23rd of August 1957, 10:00pm…

Standing motionless in the middle of her room at the London Hospital nurses home, Delia clutched the bottle of whisky to her chest with one hand and tried to get her breathing under control. She stared down at the two glasses in her other hand hanging limply at her side, and then willed her feet to move her towards the door.

But she was rooted to the spot.
How long had she been standing there? She thought maybe three or four minutes, but possibly more…
Her thoughts were lost, whipped around in the tornado of emotions raging inside her head, and her heart was hammering so hard, she though her chest might explode.

She felt faint.
She couldn't go on like this - she knew that.
But how on earth could she say out loud what she was feeling inside? How could she say it - how could she admit it - to dear, true, beautiful Patsy…?

Beautiful Patsy…
That was the problem. She couldn't get the tall, elegant blonde out of her head, and it had been that way for the last three months. Actually, if she was honest, it had started not long after they'd first met on the ward, back in February….

—

…Patsy had transferred to the London from West Middlesex Hospital.

Her first day on the Male Surgical ward had not started well. She'd been clearing away a hurried breakfast in the shared kitchen of the nurses home, when Belinda Fletcher (the clumsiest individual you were ever likely to meet), had barrelled straight into her. How the girl had made it through training without wounding or maiming some poor unfortunate in her care was a mystery to one and all. Patsy's breakfast tray had gone flying, resulting in the remnants of her teacup ending up splattered over the front of her tunic.

She realised she had only two options – neither of which guaranteed success:
1. Change uniform and be late for her first shift.
2. Try to hide the offending tea stains under her apron and get herself on duty, post-haste.

For better or worse, and since she hated being late for anything, Patsy had chosen option 2.
She'd only just pushed her way through the double-doors to the ward however - not even getting as far as the nurses station - before the voice of Matron was heard, foghorn-like across the ward.

"Nurse Mount! STOP. RIGHT. THERE!" the formidable woman bellowed for all to hear.

Patsy froze on the spot, certain that the very floor shook beneath her feet.

From her position at the nurses station behind Matron, Delia looked up and quickly took in the scene playing out in front of her: A tall, blonde nurse was rooted to the floor, looking rather flustered. Matron strode forwards, slightly blocking her view of this rather attractive new arrival. Delia craned her neck slightly - and caught Nurse Mount's eye for a split-second. She gave the new nurse what she hoped was a sympathetic smile, before Matron continued her barrage.

"What is the meaning of this?" Matron pointed to the stain on Nurse Mount's tunic, just visible under the edge of her apron.

"I'm so sorry…" Nurse Mount managed to breathe out in a whisper, "there was an accident at breakfast and I didn't want to be late for my first shift, so…"

"ENOUGH!" Matron silenced her. "I don't know what standards you've been used to at the West Middlesex," she growled, "but here at the London Hospital this is quite unacceptable!"

The blonde nurse swallowed audibly and risked another quick glance in Delia's direction. Delia rolled her eyes and gave a tiny shake of her head.

Matron continued, "Leave the ward immediately. I want you back here in no less than ten minutes - and I want to see your uniform spotless."

From her position directly behind Matron, Delia pulled a face in an attempt at a caricature of the terrifying woman. One corner of Nurse Mount's mouth twitched upwards slightly as she tried to suppress a smile.

Nurse Mount cleared her throat and snapped her gaze back to the senior nurse, "Yes, Matron, it won't happen again," she affirmed in a clear, cut-glass accent.

Delia was riveted.

"See that it doesn't," Matron retorted, "and those ten minutes will be added to your shift."

Delia was gazing intently at the retreating form of the lovely Nurse Mount, when she heard Matron's voice again…

Without even turning around, Matron muttered curtly, "As for you, Nurse Busby - the rest of your

shift will be spent in the sluice-room - with the bed pans."

Delia pursed her lips briefly and sighed - did the blasted woman have eyes in the back of her

head?

"Yes, Matron," she replied meekly, and then steeled herself for the loathsome task ahead…

—

On her lunch-break, Delia had found Nurse Mount in the canteen, a rather forlorn figure, sitting at a table alone. Acting on impulse, she carried her laden lunch tray towards the table.

"Hello again Nurse Mount!" she said, smiling brightly as she approached, "would you like some company?"

The blonde nurse looked up, eyebrows raised, ice-blue eyes connecting and holding Delia's gaze, "Hello - yes, that would be lovely!" then she sighed ruefully and added, "you'd be doing me the most wonderful favour by diverting my thoughts away from the awful start I've made here."

Delia placed her lunch tray down on the table and extended her hand in a mock-formal greeting. "Nurse Busby at your service - but you can call me Delia," she grinned, dimples in full force, "I shall endeavour to do my utmost to cheer you up!"

Nurse Mount smiled lopsidedly, and Delia felt her heart flutter disconcertingly in her chest. She silently berated herself: Busby, keep it together for goodness' sake!

The blonde nurse took Delia's hand in hers, shaking it briskly, "Pleased to meet you Delia, I'm Patience… however, I'm not well known for it, so best just call me Patsy."

Delia laughed, "Well Patsy, it's very nice to meet you too," then she leaned in conspiratorially, "by the way, don't let Matron rattle you, she just likes an excuse to bluster about the place - the trick is not to give her one."

Patsy nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

Delia grinned "I should really take my own advice - Matron sent me to the sluice-room after you left - I'm on bed-pan duty for the rest of the day."

Patsy looked aghast, "Oh God no - I'm sorry if I caused that!"

Delia laughed, "No, not at all - that was definitely all me. Sometimes I just can't help myself!" Then without thinking she added, "You know, a small group of us are going out for a few drinks this Friday - you should come."

Patsy paused for a beat, her calm, blue gaze unwavering. Delia had to glance away and clear her throat, "Um, I mean… only if you feel like it… but it might be a good ice-breaker with the other nurses…?" she added, hopefully.

Patsy's lips slowly curved into a grin, "Yes, I'd like that - when and where are you all meeting?"

"I think around 8 o'clock. Look, what room are you in - why don't I call for you and we can go together? Delia suggested, a sense of relief washing through her.

"Yes, alright," Patsy nodded in agreement, "I'm room 12 on the third floor."

"Ah, that's just the floor above me - I'm room 8 on the second - how about I knock on your door around a quarter to eight?"

"Great," Patsy smiled, "I'll look forward to it." She checked her fob-watch then and added, "Oh, I really ought to get back - I don't want to be late twice in one day." Then she stood up and smiled softly at Delia, "Listen, thank you for cheering me up and making me feel welcome - I'll see you on Friday - and no doubt on the ward too, when you escape the horrors of the sluice!"

"My pleasure," Delia returned the smile, "see you Friday!"

Her gaze followed Patsy all the way until she disappeared out into the corridor, and the smile remained on her face for the rest of the day. She felt sure that she had just found a great friend in the tall, blonde nurse, and she wondered, did Patsy realise just how much she in turn had cheered Delia?

—

…So that was how it had started.
They'd gone out for drinks with the other nurses and thoroughly enjoyed it. Delia noted however that Patsy visibly relaxed when it was just the two of them chatting together. It was so easy - despite their obviously very different backgrounds - they'd just hit it off right away.

As winter turned to spring, they began to regularly seek each other out. At first they met on lunch breaks, where Delia would often find Patsy outside with a cigarette. Then they began to meet regularly for evenings out whenever they could. Sometimes it would be Delia suggesting a night out, and sometimes Patsy, but it soon became just the two of them, only very occasionally would they socialise with the wider group.

Patsy would often suggest a whisky night-cap in her room after a long shift, or at the end of a pleasant evening out together. It soon became their little routine - sitting on Patsy's bed and sipping whisky - so much so, that Delia actually went out and bought a bottle of single malt, stashing it in her room so that she could return the favour.

Delia loved their 'night-caps', because that's when they would really talk. Just the two of them. No distractions. No interruptions. They talked about anything and everything, likes and dislikes, growing up and everything else in between.

Patsy could be quite enigmatic when they did socialise with others. She was fun, definitely, but she never gave much away. However, when it was just the two of them, she really opened up. Patsy would often start a sentence with "You know Deels - I've never told anyone this before…". And Delia loved that. She loved 'secret Pats'. She loved that she was the only person who got to see that. The more she found out, the more she began to really admire her friend.

"Pats, how is it that you don't have a chap?" Delia blurted out one evening. She'd had a couple of glasses of the strong, amber liquid and her mouth seemed to be operating independently of her brain.

Patsy simply arched an eyebrow.

Delia blushed crimson, "God Pats, I'm sorry - that's none of my business - I don't know why I asked that!"

Except, deep down she knew exactly why she'd asked…

Gazing intently at Delia over the rim of her whisky glass, Patsy chuckled, "I've never really had any time for that Deels - and you know, I could ask you the very same thing!"

Delia blushed deeper still and had to glance away from the intense ice-blue, "Oh, I'm the same Pats - just no time for all that business…" She very much doubted that she and Patsy were the same at all…

One evening in early summer, they'd met for a night out.
It had been fun, but Delia could tell something was bothering Patsy - she could detect a sadness lurking under her friend's bright exterior. Later, back at the nurses home, when Delia had joined Patsy for their night-cap, the tall woman was so very subdued, that Delia asked the question she'd wanted to ask all evening.

"Pats, what's wrong?"

And that was when Patsy told her about the prisoner of war camp.
Today was the day that Patsy used each year to remember her mother and sister. Delia sat quietly and let her friend talk, only asking a quiet question here or there, where necessary. She absorbed it all, and when Patsy finally broke down and the sobs were shuddering through her body, Delia shuffled in closer and held her friend in a comforting embrace. Patsy's arms encircled Delia's waist and held on tight, and her head rested on Delia's shoulder until the shuddering eventually subsided.

After a while Patsy sniffed and straightened up, easing herself out of the embrace. "I'm so sorry…" she whispered. Then wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands she laughed softly, adding "I cried on your shoulder…"

Delia took Patsy's hands in hers and squeezed them gently, "Oh Cariad, you can have my shoulder to cry on whenever you like," smiling softly she added "…just don't make too much of a habit of it - I can't bear to see you sad!"

A slight frown creased Patsy's forehead, her eyes dropped down to her hands still held in Delia's and then lifted back up again to meet Delia's gaze, "What's Cariad?" she whispered.

"Oh, um… it's just a Welsh term of endearment - it means… sweetheart, amongst other things…" Delia cleared her throat and glanced away, and hoped that Patsy hadn't noticed her cheeks burning crimson.

Patsy simply smiled and pulled Delia into a quick hug, "Deels, I really don't know what I'd do without you!"

—

…Since then - the last few weeks in particular - had been a kind of exquisite torture for Delia.
Soon after those emotional revelations, Patsy became much more tactile around Delia - although, only ever when they were alone. Delia began to notice Patsy frequently touching her lightly, perhaps brushing arms or lightly touching her shoulder. Even offering the occasional parting hug that lingered a beat or two longer than was strictly necessary.

Delia was unsure how to respond.
She was terrified of giving herself away, of giving off the 'wrong' signals. But wasn't Patsy sending out similar subtle signals? Maybe… but Delia really couldn't be sure…

Sometimes she would actually flinch slightly when Patsy touched her unexpectedly, not out of revulsion - far from it - but rather from the very pleasant reaction her body had to those touches. Her whole being hummed with strange kind of electricity whenever she was around Patsy now, and she began to crave those touches. She was painfully aware that her feelings for her beautiful friend and colleague had rapidly changed from those of a close friendship to something much, much more.

Love?
It must be, for Patsy was consuming her waking thoughts and was becoming the principal player in her fevered, nocturnal imaginings. And it wasn't just her outward beauty which enthralled Delia. Patsy was loyal, honest and strong, and buried deep inside the sometimes prickly exterior, Delia had found the kindest, most caring heart.

In fact, the most fragile of hearts had slowly been revealed, and Delia had almost convinced herself that she could be the one to protect it…
…But who was she kidding? She knew that could never happen. How could it!?

But she loved Patsy - really loved her - she knew that too.

Oh God, what was she to do?
She'd always known that she was different. From a very young age she'd realised that she had no interest in boys whatsoever, instead, much preferring the company of her own sex. In her teens she'd had what you'd call 'crushes' on some of the older girls at school… followed by a fairly serious one on her lovely music teacher… but, she'd never acted on her feelings. She'd always managed to control them in the end.

Not this time however. Not with Patsy.

—

Friday the 23rd of August 1957, 7:30pm…

The week had been fraught with hard shifts on the wards, and they'd arranged a night out together as an antidote.

So far, for Delia at least, the evening had been excruciating.
She and Patsy had gone for a few drinks up West and then caught a showing of 'The Prince and the Showgirl' at the Roxburgh. In the little pub next to the picture house, Delia had caught herself openly staring at Patsy as she had ordered their drinks at the bar. She'd only just managed to tear her eyes away from the tall blonde - and gaze casually (hopefully) out of the window - before Patsy had turned and brought their drinks back to their table.

They'd sipped their drinks and chatted easily as usual, but Delia was aware of her eyes doing strange things. She couldn't control them. They kept flitting about, roaming all over Patsy's face before riveting themselves to her lips. They'd repeat that journey every time she spoke, and always in the end, fix firmly on those lips.

Those full, ruby-red lips. She wondered what it would be like to kiss them… they'd be so soft and warm…

"Delia?"

Patsy's voice filtered through and Delia blinked, quickly casting her gaze elsewhere…

"…Deels, I was just saying – shall we go and get our tickets now? It'd be a shame to miss the start of the film…"

Inside the cinema, the lights were just dimming and they hurried to find a pair of seats next to each other before the film started. They slid quietly into two seats in the second from back row, just as the opening credits rolled. Patsy reached over to briefly squeeze Delia's hand, "We made it Deels, just in time!"

Delia nodded and smiled - and wished Patsy would keep holding her hand… no one would notice in the dark of the cinema - would they…?
The film went by in a blur, and if someone had asked Delia later what it was about, she wouldn't have been able to tell them. Not even the significant attributes of Marilyn Monroe were enough to hold her attention.

Delia was wholly taken with Patsy.
She watched Patsy watching the film from the corner of her eye. Occasionally she would turn her head ever so slightly to gaze rapt, as flickering lights and shadows from the film projection washed over her profile. More than once she almost leaned over to place a kiss on her cheek. The urge to lean in and whisper "I love you" was unbearable.

The forty-five minute bus ride back to the nurses home wasn't much better. She spent the whole journey staring out of the window in a futile attempt at calming her torrid mind. The feeling of Patsy's warm thigh resting gently against hers however - and her body's involuntary and very pleasant reaction to that - meant that all coherent though was impossible.

Her heart was pounding and fluttering about in her chest. The nurse in her noted the elevated heart-rate and rapid breathing… anxiety attack…?

"Deels, are you quite alright?"

Delia visibly started.

"It's just… you've been awfully quiet all evening - are you feeling alright?" Patsy continued, placing a hand lightly on Delia's shoulder.

Delia turned to meet Patsy's gaze, and caught the look of concern there. She managed a smile and a nod, "Oh, I'm fine Pats. Just a bit tired - I think the week has finally caught up with me."

Patsy smiled softly and gave Delia's shoulder a gentle squeeze, "I know - and Matron has been an absolute tyrant this week, hasn't she?"

Then she tilted her head slightly, and holding Delia's gaze added softly, "this evening has been lovely though Deels - your company really is a salve for the soul."

They made it back to the nurses home just before the 10:00pm curfew.
Hurrying up the stairs, Patsy paused at the landing to Delia's floor, "I'd suggest a night-cap…" she offered and then smiled sheepishly, "…but I'm all out of Johnny Walker…"

Before Delia had time to think, she heard herself say, "Oh, I've got a nice single-malt stashed away in my room - shall I bring it up?"

"Deels, you dark horse!" Patsy narrowed her eyes, "mine in two minutes… see you there - and don't be long!" she ordered, flashing her lop-sided smile before striding up the rest of the stairs to the next floor.

Delia stood stock-still on the landing staring after her beautiful friend, that crooked smile etching itself indelibly on her heart. She felt her heart soar with joy and simultaneously clench with panic - and then plummet two flights into the basement.

Oh God…

—

…10:07pm…

Standing, frozen to the spot in the middle of her room, tears began to gather and pool on Delia's lower eyelids.
She clutched the whisky bottle tighter and sniffed - she couldn't go on like this. It was slowly driving her mad. She had to tell Patsy the truth, but the consequences of that truth were almost too much for Delia to contemplate. Her friendship with Patsy alone was so dear to her and she feared it would break her to lose it. If she made her true feelings known, Patsy would surely walk away…

Just then, there was a soft rap on the door - and then it pushed slowly open.

Patsy. Peering round the edge. "There you are!" she exclaimed, "I was beginning to think you might have gone to Scotland for that whisky…" then she faltered as she caught the stricken look on Delia's face.

Patsy quickly stepped inside the room and closed the door softly behind her and caught Delia's gaze again just as the dam of suspended tears burst over the small brunette's lower eyelids.

"Deels, old thing! Heavens - what's the matter?" she whispered softly.

"Oh, Pats!" Delia choked, her face crumpling in anguish.

Patsy strode quickly to the centre of the room, "Here, let me take those…" She gently eased the whisky bottle and glasses out of Delia's grasp and placed them out of the way on the small dressing table. Then she crossed the room again and pulled Delia into a tight, enveloping hug.

Delia collapsed against the warmth of Patsy, her sobs muffled into the taller woman's shoulder.
They stood like that for a while, Delia relishing the warmth and comfort of the embrace.
Drawing strength from it.

Gradually, she managed to compose herself a little and gently straightened herself. Patsy detected the movement, loosened the hug and took a half-step back, giving Delia some space.

Delia sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and then gazed at the floor.

"Here take this…" Patsy's voice was soft and her outstretch hand offered a handkerchief, "…and won't you please tell me what's wrong?"

Delia took the offered handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. "I don't know how to tell you…" barely a whisper.

"You could start at the beginning?" Patsy gently suggested.

Delia shook her head, "I can't tell you…Patsy, I don't want you to hate me…"

A look of concern flashed across Patsy's features, but she waited for Delia to finish.

"I could cope if you never wanted to talk to me again…" Delia's voice caught, and she swallowed audibly, "…but I couldn't bear it if you hated me."

Patsy stepped closer, "Delia, what could you possibly have done that would make me hate you?" disbelief and concern making her voice rise slightly.

"It's not what I've done," Delia dropped her gaze to the floor, "it's what I want to do," she stated quietly.

When there was no response for a few moments, Delia slowly raised her eyes.

Patsy was gazing at her steadily.
However, the taller woman's chest was rising and falling at a rate that was at odds with her outward calm.

Delia's tears formed rapidly again and began to tumble freely down her cheeks. "Patsy please…" her eyes were imploring, "…I really… I mean, I really want to…I think I'm in…" she stammered on, unable to say the words and aware she was making no sense, "…Oh God, please don't hate me…"

"Hush Delia, hush - it's OK." Patsy finally whispered.

"Patsy, I don't think you understand what I'm…"

Patsy nodded, "Delia. It's OK."

"Pats, I'm not really explaining mysel…" She was cut off as Patsy suddenly stepped closer still and gently cupped Delia's face in her hands. Delia jumped slightly and then froze. Her breath held. Her gaze riveted to Patsy's ice-blue.

Patsy used her thumbs to gently wipe away Delia's tears.

"Deels. It's OK - I know," she whispered, "I'm the same."

Delia blinked and then frowned, and the breath that she'd been holding left her in barely a whisper, "what…?"

She was frowning still when Patsy slowly tilted her face down towards hers, and then hesitated.

So close.

Those full lips hovering tantalisingly close.
Patsy flicked her eyes quickly down to Delia's lips and then back up to ocean-blue eyes, wide with disbelief. She smiled softly and then closed the tiny gap that remained between them by touching her lips gently to Delia's.

Delia's heart contracted suddenly - almost painfully.
Eyes still wide, she inhaled deeply through her nose, and with her lips still against Patsy's, she heard herself let out a kind of soft 'mewl'… she'd never made that kind of noise before…
She felt Patsy's lips press more firmly against hers and watched as her eyes slowly closed. Eyelashes brushing delicately against Delia's cheek - she watched Patsy lose herself in the kiss. She snaked her arms around Patsy's waist and pushed her whole body against the taller woman, revelling in the warmth she found there. Then following Patsy's lead, she closed her own eyes, parted her lips and allowed the kiss to deepen.

She had been right - Patsy's lips were wonderfully soft and warm - but the sensations that the kiss set free were a complete revelation to her. A deliciously warm wave rushed from her head to her toes, flipping her heart over on the way down and setting off a hot shiver somewhere deep inside…

Patsy's own responses were captivating.
Delia could feel the taller woman's chest rising and falling rapidly against her own… a heartbeat strong and ardent… warm hands on the back of her head, fingers in her hair… every so often uttering a low "Mmmmm" sound which vibrated through her lips… in turn making Delia's lips tingle delightfully…

Suddenly the reality of the situation threatened to overwhelm her.

Patsy. Beautiful Patsy was kissing her. She was kissing Patsy…

Her knees suddenly felt like jelly. She didn't think her legs would hold her much longer. She needed to breathe.

She brought her hands up to Patsy's chest and gently pushed herself out of the kiss. As their lips parted and Delia backed away a fraction, Patsy instinctively pursued, nuzzling tenderly, her nose lightly brushing against Delia's. Finally opening her eyes and resting forehead on Delia's, Patsy sighed softly, "Oh Delia - I've wanted to do that for so long…"

Delia reached up and touched her fingers briefly to Patsy's lips. "Me too…" Then she chuckled softly and added, "…and I've been tying myself in knots over it for weeks now - it was just so difficult to read you!"

"Me too!" Patsy affirmed, "I wish I'd said something sooner - I'm sorry - I was just terrified I'd ruin everything…"

Delia smiled softly, "Me too.."

Patsy drew Delia close again, encircling her waist with her arms and clasping her hands in the small of Delia's back. She smiled that lop-sided smile and chuckled "Well, aren't we a pair… seems like we're made for each other!"

Delia shifted in the embrace and rested her head on Patsy's chest and listened to her heart for a few beats, "What do we do now?" she asked quietly.

Patsy's voice reverberated low through her chest "Tomorrow, or the day after - or the day after that? I don't know…" Then she brought a hand up and hooked her index finger under Delia's chin and added, "… but I know what I'd like to do right now..."

"Have a tot of that single-malt…?" Delia smiled shyly.

"Nope." Patsy shook her head, "I'd like something sweeter…"

And with that, Delia found herself in Patsy's embrace again, soft lips seeking hers.
Willingly losing herself in the warmth of Patsy and the kiss.

—

TBC

—