Chapter 6: I love how you think of me without being told to

Summary: It's deepest darkest January 1963. Delia anxiously awaits the results of her midwifery exams. Patsy has a surprise or two up her sleeve – or should I say in her pocket...

Brighton, Saturday the 4th of May 2014, 12:00 noon.

Delia sighed in satisfaction and leaned back in her chair.
The breakfast was marvellous and was just what she needed. It had – oddly enough – settled her stomach somewhat, which up to this point had been churning with excitement at the thought of the day to come.
The little photos from Paris all those years ago still lay on the table and Delia smiled again as she gathered them up and tucked them safely back into their hiding place. She picked up her glass and sipped the last of her champagne, savouring the sensation of the lively bubbles prickling on the roof of her mouth, and then the bittersweet aftertaste as she swallowed the delicate pink liquid. She glanced over the breakfast table at Patsy and found her love's clear blue eyes gazing steadily back. She too sipped on her champagne, but those magical bubbles did not appear to be going to her head this time. A soft expression played on her features and the spring sunlight streaming through the large windows behind her cast a soft glow through her hair.

Almost like a halo.
Delia's breath caught for a moment… a sort of angel…

A smile started to tug at one corner of Patsy's mouth and Delia blinked.

Spell broken.

Delia shook her head and chuckled, "You know… you look like the cat who got the cream."

Patsy's face transformed into a full beaming smile, "I know, and I think I have every right to. I'm about to make you my wife – and become yours," she raised her eyebrows in slight disbelief and added, "I'm barely managing to contain my joy right now."

"Me too sweetheart," Delia leaned over and placed a kiss on Patsy's forehead and whispered, "and we'll be able to let the world see that joy soon enough." She sighed happily and continued, "You know, going to Paris with you all those years ago was the most thrilling thing I'd ever done at that point," then eyes sparkling with mischief, she corrected herself, "I mean to say, one of the most thrilling things I'd ever done with you… which makes me look back at all the roads – both literal and figurative – that we've travelled together to get to this very moment in our lives… and well, I think we've more than earned that joy, you and I."

Patsy was gazing at her intently now, her ice-blue gaze almost appraising.

"Pats…?" Delia faltered.

Patsy arched an eyebrow, "You know, sometimes it's as though you can read my mind…" With that, she got up and rummaged in one of the zip pockets of her suitcase and produced two BA tickets with a flourish and a grin, "Gatwick to Paris. We leave on a 4:30pm flight tomorrow afternoon, so we should have just enough time to go home and pack some holiday items."

Delia felt her jaw drop.

Patsy took in her astonished expression and quickly carried on, "Um, I hope you don't mind me taking the liberty… I know you wanted to wait a little before choosing our honeymoon, but I just couldn't resist… I even managed to book a suite in the Château Frontenac – and after finding those old photos just now, I'm very glad I did!"

Delia finally found her voice, "What? The same hotel – really!?"

Patsy laughed, "Yes, really! I'm not entirely sure, but it may even be the same suite… of course, it's changed a lot over the years, but it still looks top-end."

"Oh Pats, it's perfect – it really is!" Delia leapt up then, gathered Patsy close and placed a soft kiss on her lips, "I think perhaps it is you who is the mind-reader, sweetheart."

—

Nonnatus House, Monday the 21st of January 1963, 6:15am.

Delia sat at the Nonnatus House dining table alone.
This was a brief calm precluding the others arriving to take breakfast before heading out on district rounds, or shifts at the clinic. Muffled in a heavy woollen blanket over her uniform and with her hands cradling a steaming cup of tea, she tried to ward off the deep chill now creeping relentlessly into her bones.
The ancient boiler had failed – again – and she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this cold. If not for her shift today, she'd still be upstairs, snuggled up all warm and cozy under a multitude of covers with Pats.

Lifting the cup to her lips, she took a long sip of the scalding-hot liquid and shivered.
It wasn't just the cold that was getting to her, if she were being honest she felt a little worn-out too. The last nine months had been an unstoppable roller-coaster… saying goodbye to Pats… not knowing when – if – she'd ever be back… worrying about her constantly the whole time… and all the while studying for her midwifery exams.
In the end she'd used her studies as a distraction and it had turned out quite well. She'd really gotten her teeth into the practical training, throwing herself into it and excelling well above most of her peers on the course. Written tests on the other hand, she'd always found daunting, but with diligent studies she'd come out of the exams feeling that she'd given it her best – despite the final part being only two days after her emotional reunion with Patsy.

The exam results would be here any day now. She was trying not to think about that.
Patsy had also received an important letter this week – the final instructions from her father's solicitor – in fact she was going to the solicitor's office today to sign all the legal documents pertaining to her father's estate.

Delia took another warming sip of her hot milky brew and at the same moment heard the chatter of voices as the others made their way down to breakfast.
Her contemplative solitude was about to be shattered. Only now did she realise just what an emotional toll the last year had taken on her. She knew Patsy was quite exhausted too. Gosh, she thought then – how lovely would it be to take little holiday? Just the two of them. Perhaps they could take a long-weekend away and forget about everything for a few days.

True – they had taken a little break away over Christmas but it hadn't been entirely relaxing...

—

It had been two weeks after Patsy's return that the letter had arrived.

It was from Mam.
In truth it was more of a note than a letter. In it, she enquired as to how Delia was, and since they'd hardly seen her all year, would she come to visit for a few days over Christmas? She also wrote that they were now 'on the telephone', and that it would be lovely if Delia could call to make arrangements.

She'd shown Patsy the letter that evening.
They'd sat side-by-side on Patsy's bed in their shared room, Delia staring at the floor with her knee bobbing rapidly in a nervous twitch as the older woman quickly read the note.

Reaching the end of Mrs Busby's brief and perfunctory missive, Patsy paused and re-folded the paper carefully. "Deels?" she asked quietly, "When did you last visit them?"

Delia felt Patsy's eyes weighing heavily on her and finally lifted her gaze to meet clear ice-blue. "Early spring I think, just after we got back from Paris – and not long before you had to leave for Hong Kong…"

"And you haven't seen them since?" Patsy enquired carefully.

The question was asked gently and with no hint of accusation, but Delia instantly felt a stab of guilt. "No, I couldn't… I didn't want to be away incase I missed you coming back," she whispered almost inaudibly. She dropped her gaze to the floor again and added, "And now it's been so long… and I know what Mam will be like…"

Patsy sighed and reached for Delia's hand, squeezing it gently, "Oh Deels, I'm so sorry."

Delia looked up quickly as another pang of guilt pricked sharply. "What? Oh, no Pats – I didn't mean it like that… it's not your fault!" her knee now bouncing even more rapidly, her heel rapping out a staccato on the floorboards.

Patsy placed her hand gently on Delia's knee. She held it there, warm and calming until the nervous bobbing slowed then stilled. "Deels," she said softly, "I know what it is to become estranged from one's family – how easily it can happen and how lonely it can become – I really do think you should visit."

Delia sighed and smiled ruefully, "I know Pats – and you're absolutely right… but you only just got back, and I want to spend Christmas with you." She placed her own hand over Patsy's and they both sat in silence for a few moments. Then Delia hesitantly spoke, "Pats…? I'm going to ask you something – and please don't feel you have to say yes – but… would you come with me?"

Patsy's face broke into a wide smile and she squeezed Delia's hand, "Of course I'll come with you – as long as it won't upset your parents…"

Delia felt a slow relief wash though her.
In truth, this was something that she had considered often over the years.

How wonderful would it be to take Patsy home to Wales?
True, she'd already had one or two (albeit tense) meetings with Mam…
But she just knew her Da' would love Patsy – and surely Mam would warm to her eventually…

Pulling Patsy into a quick hug she whispered, "Thank you," then she planted a soft kiss on her lips and added, "I love you. I'll call Mam in the morning."

Patsy narrowed her eyes and grimaced, "Good. I think…" she replied hesitantly, "...and I shall gird my loins in preparation."

—

Initially, Mam had been pleased to hear that Delia would be visiting at Christmas.
As soon as Patsy was mentioned however, her tone changed immediately. "Well, I don't know where she'll sleep," Mam's voice drifted down the crackly line, all tinny and disgruntled, "we only have the one guest room."

Delia sighed, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all…
Then she heard Da's voice pipe-up in the background: "Don't be daft Carys, there's plenty of room – I'm sure they won't mind doubling-up – it's only for a couple of nights!"

Delia smiled. Her Da' – the voice of reason.
And then she held her breath for her mother's response…

There was an overly dramatic sigh at the other end of the line, and then: "Well I suppose that's settled then. We'll look forward to seeing you – ring us from the station and your Da' will come with the car and collect you."

—

Abergwaun Pembrokeshire, Christmas Eve 1962.

They'd taken an early train from London that morning, changed at Cardiff and then continued on, heading north-west across Pembrokeshire.
Looking out through the carriage windows there was nothing but clear azure skies over a pristine white blanket covering the rolling landscape, it sparkled in the sunshine as far as the eye could see.

The train had been fitted with a huge snow-plough and every so often they would cross a large drift on the line. The snow was no match for the powerful steam engine however, and it simply surged on, exploding out through the other side of each drift in a glittering shower of snow and ice, spitting out smoke and soot from its chimney, its whistle shrieking like a mythical welsh dragon of lore.

As the train rammed through yet another large drift, Patsy reached for Delia's hand and squeezed it tightly. Turning from the carriage window she found Patsy leaning forward in her seat enthralled with the stunning vistas rushing by outside, a delighted smile lighting her features and her face glowing with excitement, "This is absolutely the best train journey I've ever been on!" she whispered breathlessly.

Delia laughed, "Well at least this, if nothing else will make the trip worthwhile!"

"Deels!" Patsy chided gently, "Everything is going to be fine – we're spending Christmas together after all – and that alone makes it more than worthwhile!"

At 4:00pm the train made its final stop – end of the line – Abergwaun station.
The platform looked out over a busy harbour. It was dusk and the sky above was fading into a deep dark blue as they alighted the train with their overnight bags in hand. Stars were beginning to shine, hesitantly mirroring the distant lights of the fishing boats twinkling in the bay below.

Delia sought out the phone booth and called her parents, whilst Patsy procured two cups of coffee from the platform kiosk. The temperature was plummeting rapidly, and they stood on the now deserted platform waiting for Delia's father to arrive, their hands wrapped around hot paper cups, gratefully sipping the warming black liquid as their breaths condensed into puffs of vapour in the frigid air.

Thankfully they didn't have to wait long.
Fifteen minutes later and quick, sharp footsteps could be heard through the station building announcing his approach – and then he appeared on the platform – a small round grey haired man, very well dressed in a smart suit, overcoat and trilby. As he caught sight of them, his face widened into a delighted smile and two deep dimples dotted his rosy cheeks.

"Oh, my little sprout, there you are!" he exclaimed in a pronounced welsh accent, spreading his arms wide as he came closer.

Patsy glanced at Delia in amusement at the quirky endearment but had no time to comment as the smaller woman threw herself into her father's arms.

Mr Busby held Delia tight for several moments, then he stepped back holding her at arms length and scrutinised her carefully top to toe, "It's so good to see you sweetheart – and you're looking so well!" Then stealing a glance over her shoulder he exclaimed, "And surely this must be Patsy!"

Patsy beamed a wide smile and stepped forward, extending her hand, "Yes, and it's a pleasure to meet you Mr Busby."

Mr Busby smiled wider still, dimples deepening. He took Patsy's hand in both of his and shook it warmly, "It is indeed lovely to meet you my dear – and please – call me Emlyn." Stepping back he stooped and lifted their bags, "Well then, lets get you both out of this cold – the car is just outside – follow me."

The Busby's old Humber Hawk rattled and bounced over the cobbled streets of Abergwaun, Delia sitting in the front passenger seat and Patsy hanging on in the rear.
As they travelled along the narrow streets, some lined with shops and businesses, Delia turned in her seat and pointed to the left, "that's my Da's draper's shop just there – or at least, it was…"

Patsy leaned forward to better see, "Oh yes, I see it!" and as they drove on past the shop she queried, "So… you don't live above the shop anymore?"

Emlyn turned his head slightly as he drove on, "No, I retired two years ago – arthritic fingers see?" He waggled his fingers on the steering wheel as if to demonstrate, "Not conducive to tailoring, so I sold the business as a going concern and we downsized into one of the new bungalows they built on the edge of the village." He drove on a little further and then added, "Once David got married and moved to Swansea to work in the steel mills, and then Delia left for London, the old place just didn't feel the same – and it was too big for just me and your Mam. The bungalow suits us both a lot better."

The road soon took them into a quiet residential area where the streets were lined with modern detached houses, their windows displaying festive decorations, all bright and cheery. Finally Emlyn turned the large old car off the road and parked it in the driveway of one of the neat little bungalows.

"Here we are!" he got out and opened the door for Patsy while Delia grabbed their bags from the boot. "Come on in then," he called over his shoulder as he opened the front door of the little house, "Let's get you two settled in and warmed up. It's absolutely perishin' out 'ere!"

They entered into a small vestibule area just inside the door, Patsy followed Delia and Emlyn's lead by hooking her coat and scarf on the coat stand.
Just then, Mrs Busby appeared from the living room doorway and made her way quickly along the hallway to greet them. "There you are Cariad!" she pulled Delia into a quick hug, "So lovely to see you," then glancing at Patsy she added, "and you Patsy."

It was almost like an afterthought and Delia felt herself bristling immediately.
Why did Mam always have to be like this?

Patsy spoke up then, "It's lovely to see you again Mrs Busby, and thank you for letting me stay in your home, it's very kind of you."

Delia glanced at her girlfriend – Patsy seemed to know exactly what to say in these situations. Then she caught her Da's eye briefly and saw him suppressing a smile.

However, Mrs Busby pulled herself up with a quiet 'harrumph' and replied, "Yes, well you're going to have to share the guest room with Delia, but I suppose there's nothing to be done about that now."

There would be no offer of first-name terms here it seemed.
Delia flushed red and opened her mouth to speak – a sharp rebuke on the tip of her tongue – but Emlyn saw it coming and quickly intercepted, "Come on then Delia, why don't we get you and Patsy settled-in?" as he led them down the hallway he turned back to his wife, "Why don't you get the kettle on love? The girls must be parched after their journey."

Mrs Busby nodded brusquely and bustled off towards the kitchen.

Emlyn led them towards the rear of the house and showed them to the guest room.
It was just large enough to accommodate a double bed, wardrobe and dressing table with a little room to spare. Just as he was leaving, Emlyn turned to Patsy, "Make yourself at home love. And pay no heed to Carys, she's a stickler for social propriety, but she'll calm down soon enough. Just know that you are very welcome here."

Patsy smiled, "Thank you Mr…" but she was cut short as Emlyn held up his hand. She laughed and started again, "Thank you Emlyn, you're very kind, and I appreciate that more than I can say."

This time it was Emlyn who laughed. He turned to Delia in mock surprise, "Well now, she's a smooth talker this one, isn't she?"

Delia looked at him incredulously and punched him lightly on the arm, "Da'!?"

Emlyn chuckled and retreated back into the hall, "Right then, I'll leave you to get unpacked. Don't be long though, there'll be some tea in the lounge in a minute – and then we can catch up properly."

Once the door had closed Patsy turned to Delia, "Your father is really lovely!"

"I know." Delia crinkled her nose and added, "But for goodness sake don't tell him that, or you'll never be rid of him!"

"Ha!" Patsy laughed heartily at that, "Like father, like daughter then…" she teased gently before adding with a smirk, "I seem to recall telling you that you were lovely once – and look what happened!"

Delia narrowed her eyes – now it was her turn to 'harrumph'…

—

The small lounge was warm and inviting, with a small wood and coal fire crackling gently and a bedecked Christmas tree over by the window with its lights twinkling merrily. Delia and Patsy had brought a few small presents along with them which they now placed carefully under the tree beside a myriad of other brightly-wrapped parcels. Mrs Busby seemed to have mellowed slightly in the time it had taken her to brew some tea and she politely served them mince pies followed by some sweet sherry – an aperitif to a hearty supper of lamb casserole with huge chunks of freshly-baked crusty bread.

Afterwards Emlyn opened a bottle of his finest brandy, pouring them generous measures whilst Delia fielded her parents – mostly her Da's – questions about work, training, and life in London.
She dearly wanted to tell them everything. Longed to say it – to just come out with it…

I love my life.
And his woman who is sitting right here in your home, sipping Da's best brandy and making polite small talk with you?
Well – I love her even more.

One glance in her mother's direction however and she instantly knew her Mam was dreading exactly that.
Delia could see it in her cold expression and her stiff posture, and she could hear it in her curt dismissals of anything to do with London or Patsy.

Mam was simply going through the motions.
Despite her growing frustration with her mother, Delia managed to steer the conversation onto the much safer topics of village and family gossip, and before they knew it, the clock on the mantelpiece was chiming eleven o'clock.

"Goodness!" Emlyn exclaimed, "time does fly doesn't it? I think I shall turn-in, we've a busy day ahead tomorrow." He hauled himself out of his armchair and smiled at Patsy and Delia as he headed for the door, "Good night you two – we'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, eh?"

Mrs Busby nodded her agreement as she followed him to the door, "Yes, breakfast around eight o'clock I think."

Once they were certain Mr and Mrs Busby were settled for the night, Patsy and Delia retired to their room.
Away from the warmth of the lounge they noticed the chill immediately. Patsy quickly unpacked whilst Delia wasted no time rushing to the bathroom to hurriedly wash and brush her teeth. On the return trip, she paused in the hallway and softly knocked before cracking the door open and whispering, "It's only me Pats…" as she entered.

Patsy had turned off the bright ceiling light and had instead lit the small bedside lamps, giving the room an altogether warmer atmosphere – even though the temperature reminded them otherwise – and it was a moment or two before Delia's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. As they did, her breath caught in her throat.

It wasn't as though she'd never seen Patsy undressing before.
Outside of their usual domestic environment however – here, under her parent's roof – it took her completely by surprise. As though seeing it for the first time, she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Patsy had already removed her soft woollen pullover and was in the act of unbuttoning the fly on her jeans. Delia watched entranced as long fingers unhooked the final two buttons and then slipped down under the waistband. Then with a quick wiggle of the hips, the snug denim was worked ever downwards – and Delia's eyes followed – all the way down the length of her love's long, shapely legs.

"You can't look at me like that…"

Patsy's voice, low and quiet made Delia's eye's snap instantly upwards. Jolted out of her trance, she felt the inevitable blush rising hotly into her cheeks.

"… at least, not here anyway," Patsy continued softly, one corner of her mouth twitching upwards and her eyes sparkling with… something… that something which always made Delia's heart flip disconcertingly in her chest…

Finally finding her voice Delia whispered hoarsely, "I know… but I can't help it. Blue jeans and not much else really looks good on you – you should wear it more often."

Patsy cocked an eyebrow and stepped out of the jeans, and with an elegant efficiency of movement she quickly removed her underwear.

Disrobing complete.

"I am certain your mother would not approve," Patsy smirked as she pulled on her pyjama bottoms, tying them loosely at the waist and then shrugging the top roughly over her shoulders, "How about plaid PJs instead?"

Delia chuckled softly, "I'm not sure she'd approve of those either…"
Quickly crossing the room, she gently straightened the collar of the soft cotton garment then brought her hands over Patsy's fingers, stilling them from fumbling with the buttons. Slowly and deliberately she proceeded to fasten them herself, working her way upwards until she stopped three buttons from the top – just as Patsy's hands covered and stilled hers in turn. Looking up, she was met with clear ice-blue and then soft warm lips against her own. Closing her eyes and threading her arms around Patsy's waist, she held on tight as the kiss became deeper, and then softer again, and then became gently lingering before their lips finally parted.

Eyes still closed, Delia held on to the warming wave washing through her, following along in its wake for as long as she could.

Patsy's voice brought her safely back to the surface.
"What are you thinking?"

She opened her eyes to meet Patsy's steady gaze.
"Right now in this instant? … only that we were somewhere else," Delia sighed, "anywhere else but here."

"I know…" Patsy whispered and pulled her back in for an enveloping hug, "we'll be somewhere else soon, just you and me – I promise."
Delia rested her head on Patsy's chest and listened to the source of her love's rich tones as they continued, "but for now we're here, spending Christmas with your parents, and we really should try to enjoy it."

Delia raised her head, "About that… how are you doing sweetheart – are you coping?" she asked quietly.

Patsy smiled and placed a soft kiss on Delia's forehead, "So far… actually it's been quite interesting meeting both of your parents, I recognise a few mannerisms in them that I see in you – although, I think you are definitely more like your father than your mother."

"Thankfully…" Delia whispered almost under her breath.

Patsy played with a few locks of Delia's hair, winding them loosely through her fingers before returning the question, "What about you Deels – how are you doing being back here after so long?"

Delia paused a moment, gently chewing her lip as she considered her response.
"Well, it is nice to be here for Christmas and I'm glad you gave me the prod I needed to get in touch with Mam and Da' again." She smiled and squeezed Patsy's hand, "And I'm so glad you're here with me. I feel sort of proud, you know – is that strange?" She placed her hand on her own chest and clarified, "I feel warm here you see, having you meeting my parents makes me feel like we're a real thing, you and I," then with a note of sadness in her voice she added, "even though I can't actually tell them you're the one I'm going to 'settle down' with, as Mam would put it."

Patsy hugged Delia tight again and kissed the top of her head, "Of course we're real," she whispered, "perhaps we will be able to tell them that someday."

"I'm not so sure Pats… the way Mam is… and oh – I'm so sorry about her frostiness towards you, it's awful – I can't bear it when she's like this."

"I suppose it's only because she cares about you and wants the best for you – and I understand that," Patsy replied quietly.

"Maybe, but I can't make excuses for her. Deep down I'm sure she knows exactly what you mean to me… and… well, she just shouldn't be this way," Delia countered gently but firmly.

Patsy placed another soft kiss on Delia's forehead, "Come on, get your pyjamas and let's get some shut-eye – I have a feeling the best preparation for tomorrow is going to be a good night's sleep."

—

The dawn light, amplified by the snow, cast a cold ethereal glow into the room and it woke them slowly as it seeped gradually around the edges of the drawn curtains.
They nestled closer together, face to face with limbs and sheets entangled, each unwilling to be the first to leave their snug burrow of blankets. Soon however, the sound of Delia's parents in the kitchen forced Patsy to make the first move.

"Delia…" Patsy whispered as she opened her eyes and squinted, trying to focus on the apparently slumbering form currently clinging to her as a limpet would a storm-lashed rock. "Deels!" she whispered, loudly this time and attempted to prise herself free, "It's Christmas day, and I can hear your parents making breakfast – we really must get up…"

The little limpet simply clung on tighter.
Then came a sleep-thick whisper from beneath a mass of dark tousled hair: "Mmmm… Merry Christmas Pats… what time is it..?"

Patsy worked one arm free and brushed the hair from Delia's face. She kissed the tip of her nose and whispered, "Merry Christmas Deels," then she reached out and drew back the blanket adding, "I'm not exactly sure of the time, but if we don't get up soon we'll be late for breakfast."

Delia made another attempt to snuggle back down and almost succeeded in taking Patsy with her.

"Hey, not so fast Sprout!" Patsy managed to wriggle free and climbed quickly out of bed.

Delia's face crinkled into a little frown and she squinted up at Patsy, "Oh… I was really hoping you hadn't heard that last night…"

Patsy smiled and tried not to laugh, "Oh I heard it alright, and you should know that I'm filing it away for future reference."
She pulled the blankets down to the foot of the bed and then gently extricated Delia from the foetal position she was now curling into, before finally pulling the small grumbling brunette to her feet. "Now come on Busby," Patsy gently harried, "let's get ready for breakfast – I for one do not intend on giving your mother any further opportunity to have a dig."

—

After breakfast they busied themselves with the Christmas Day preparations. Patsy helping Emlyn set out the dining table and Delia assisting Mam in the kitchen. They chatted happily as they worked and the atmosphere was cheery and relaxed – due in large part to her father's infectious Christmas spirit. Once or twice however, Delia noticed Mam pausing and appearing quite tense, as though on the verge of speaking, but rather than voicing her thoughts, she seemed to stop herself short – in effect, biting her tongue.

Delia's brother David arrived just after noon with his wife Sarah and after warm greetings, Christmas presents were exchanged and opened, and then Christmas dinner was served.
It was so good to see David again after so long. Delia had forgotten just how like their father he was, ever cheerful (infuriatingly so sometimes), they were like the proverbial peas in a pod. She looked round the table at her family then and felt her heart swell at the sight of Patsy amongst them. She smiled as she watched David, who sat with Patsy on one side and Sarah on the other, as he happily recounted some ribald tale from his youth – Patsy suppressing a snort at the punchline and Sarah shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

Soon it was time for the Queen's Speech and as the Busby's tiny black and white TV set was turned on and tuned in, Emlyn hurriedly poured them all a tot of his best brandy to toast Her Majesty with.
Just as they drained their glasses to the Monarch however, David cleared is throat, "Charge our glasses again Da', because Sarah and me… well we 'ave some news for you." He paused as their glasses were refilled and Delia noted Mam sitting forwards in anticipation, as though she knew what was coming…

"We're having a baby!"

They all raised their glasses in a toast, and amongst the cries of congratulations Mrs Busby exclaimed, "Oh David, that's wonderful news! Grandchildren – finally!"

Then her gaze fell on Delia and lingered there.
Was it sadness, or disappointment that was directed her way? Delia didn't know, but she felt stung and a heat was rising in her cheeks just as surely as if her mother had crossed the room and slapped her…

Then she felt warm fingers brush briefly and lightly against her arm and she turned to see Patsy's steady gaze. There was a hint of concern visible in the ice-blue – she had clearly witnessed Mam's silent rebuke even if no-one else had.

Drawing strength from Patsy's presence Delia took a calming breath, and rather than give voice to her annoyance at Mam's slight, she turned to David and Sarah, "Oh I can't wait to be an Aunty!" she exclaimed in genuine delight, "And you know, I'm training to be a midwife – I should find out in the next few weeks if I've passed the final exams – so, if you ever need any advice during the pregnancy, I'm only a phone call away," she glanced at Patsy before adding, "We both are."
From the corner of her eye, she noticed with some satisfaction her Mam's posture stiffen ever so slightly.

Patsy squeezed her arm gently before chiming in, "Yes, and I have every confidence that you'll pass Deels – and go on to be a wonderful midwife."

—

After moving from the dining table to more comfortable seating by the fire, they played charades well into the evening until Emlyn began struggling to hide his yawns and David and Sarah announced they were setting off on the drive back to Swansea.

"The roads are still quite snow-bound, so we don't want to leave it too late before setting off," David explained as they said their goodbyes, before pulling Delia into a bear-hug and adding, "Merry Christmas Sprout, Don't leave it so long before you visit again, do you hear?"

Delia hugged him back tightly, "I won't, and I meant what I said earlier – if you need any advice – just call us."

They stood in the doorway and watched as David and Sara's little Ford Anglia pulled away from the kerb. Emlyn finally let go of a huge yawn and then covered his mouth self-consciously, "Good Lord, do excuse me ladies – I really am worn out!" he shut the front door against the freezing air outside, "If you don't mind, I'm going to head off to bed."

"I second that," Delia replied, "but what a lovely day – and made even better with David and Sarah's lovely news."

"Indeed!" Emlyn agreed "well goodnight all, sleep well and Merry Christmas!" he called over his shoulder as disappeared down the hallway.

"Goodness, it is rather late," said Mrs Busby glancing at her watch and then to Delia and Patsy, "are you two turning-in as well then?"

"Yes, I think we will Mam – goodnight and Merry Christmas!" Delia replied around a barely-suppressed yawn of her own.

They'd only gone a few steps down the hall when Mrs Busby's voice came after them, "Oh, Patsy… would you mind giving me a hand just now to put the good crockery away in the top cupboard – you're the tallest one here and it'll save me having to get the steps out…"

Patsy halted and glanced at Delia, eyebrow arched quizzically, to which Delia shrugged and raised her own eyebrows in return.
"Certainly Mrs Busby…" Patsy replied as she turned and followed Delia's mother back into the kitchen.

Delia yawned again and took a few more steps down towards their room.
And then she stopped.
Her brows furrowed in confusion: Mam was perfectly capable of reaching all the kitchen cupboards… Delia had seen her do it easily on several occasions during the day. She spun round on her heel with the intention of finding out just what Mam was up to, when the next thing she heard stopped her in her tracks...

There was the unmistakeable sound of crockery being put down heavily onto a work surface with a nerve-jangling rattle. Then one of Mam's dramatically loud sighs…
She heard the soft rustle of clothing as presumably Mam turned round from the kitchen counter to face Patsy. And then she spoke. Low and quietly menacing. Delia knew that tone all too well – she'd been on the receiving end of it often enough – and she found herself rooted to the spot like a scolded little girl, unable to go to Patsy's aid.

"Just what is it that you think you can offer her?"
Mam's voice drifted out into the hall in a hissed whisper.
"What kind of life can you possibly give her?"

Silence.
Delia could imaging Patsy taking the impact of the verbal blow and then pull herself up to her full height – she was indeed the tallest one here.

After a beat she heard Patsy speak – equally low but certainly not cowed – the formidable Nurse Mount was most definitely in the room.
"Mrs Busby," Patsy began, her voice steady and measured, "Clearly you've failed to notice that Delia does not need anyone to give her a life, as you put it. She chooses her own path in the world and believe me when I say that I thank my lucky stars for the day our two paths crossed – and indeed for every day since that Delia chooses to be with me. I cannot imagine my life without her and nor do I wish to – she makes me happy beyond anything I could ever have imagined."

Delia felt suddenly faint as her heart swelled with love and pride… it was hammering in her ears and threatening to drown out the tense duel taking place in the kitchen.

Patsy continued undaunted now – hitting her stride.
"You ask me what I can offer her? Well, if what you mean by that is children – which of course, you do – then you have made your point. However, Delia and I have discussed this very topic at length and we both agree that neither of us need to have children ourselves to be fulfilled. I will concede that perhaps that is in part why we do the work we do, but Delia thrives on that work. We both do. Furthermore – and I would not normally stoop to the vulgarities of discussing wealth – but I feel that you are somewhat forcing my hand. So, all I will say on that matter is this: should she choose to spend her future with me, Delia will have a very secure one. But more than that, the thing that I most certainly can offer her in abundance is a lifetime of being loved – and I can assure you, she will never want for that. Isn't that what she deserves – a life filled with love? Isn't that – above all else – what you would wish for your daughter Mrs Busby?"

There was a long pause.
Delia didn't know what to do. She was stunned. She couldn't move from her position halfway down the hall. No one had ever spoken to Mam like that – and she'd never heard Patsy speak so passionately – she felt humbled, and overwhelmed with love and admiration for her glorious, magnificent Pats.

Finally the brittle silence was broken.

"…Mrs Busby…?" Patsy's low tones, rich and clear.

Delia heard Mam sigh again.
Only this time there was no harshness to the sound, no more malice. In fact, she sounded almost defeated.
When she finally spoke it was in hushed tones and all she said was:
"Please. Call me Carys."

Delia blinked… was this actually happening?
Suddenly she felt a hand rest lightly on her shoulder and she almost cried out in fright. Whirling round, she found herself staring into Da's kindly face. She took a shuddering breath and swallowed thickly around the huge lump in her throat.

How long had he been there? How much had he heard?

"Steady Sprout!" he whispered, "I only got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen, and all I can say is – I'm glad I did," he patted Delia on the shoulder and added, "Your Patsy is quite something, isn't she?"

Quite something?
She's everything.

"Yes, she is." Delia replied hoarsely. It seemed wholly insufficient but right at that moment, it was all she could manage.

"Well, then," said Da' brightly, "I'll just go and get that glass of water and maybe break the ice in there shall I?" then he added with I wink, "Although, I think Patsy has already made a good start at thawing the Ice Queen."

Yes, thought Delia – yes she had.

—

Nonnatus House, Monday the 21st of January 1963, 11:35pm.

Delia pushed wearily through the heavy wooden door of Nonnatus House.
Her shift on the maternity ward should have finished at eight o'clock, but a difficult delivery followed by the laborious trudge through the snow-blocked streets of Poplar meant that she was only just now arriving home.
The huge old house was silent save for the occasional creak and groan from deep within the walls as the innards of the ancient building shivered and shuddered against the cold. The hallway was deserted, but someone was in the kitchen... perhaps the kettle was on thought Delia, as she made a bee-line for the welcoming light at the end of the hall. She dropped her coat over the back of one the chairs at the large dining table, and then her heart flipped as she saw Patsy by the kitchen stove in the act of pouring steaming-hot liquid from a pan into two mugs.

"Hello Deels!" the taller woman said smiling, as she brought the mugs over to the smaller table within the kitchen itself, "I thought you might need a little something to put the heat back into your frozen bones."

Delia flopped down into one of the chairs as exhaustion finally took hold. "You really are an angel Pats," she gratefully accepted one of the steaming mugs adding, "And a sight for sore eyes too!"

Patsy grinned and nodded at Delia's mug, "It's you're favourite – Bournvita with a generous dash of whisky."

"Have I actually died and gone to heaven?" Delia chuckled, then her stomach let out a loud rumble, "Lord, I'm famished! I don't suppose there's any cake – or is that just too much to hope for?"

"As it happens there is!" Patsy said over her shoulder as she made her way to the cupboards, "I secreted it here before Sister Monica Joan could even get a sniff of it," she reached up and retrieved a tin from the highest shelf and brought it back to the table. "Ta-da!" she exclaimed as she opened the lid with a flourish, "Madeira cake!"

"Can this scenario possibly get any better?" Delia enquired as she helped herself to a slice of the sweet sponge cake.

"I think it just might… on at least two counts," Patsy replied as she pulled two large envelopes from her dressing-gown pocket and placed them on the table between them. One had been opened, the other remained sealed.

Delia took a large gulp of Bournvita, "What are those?" her brows knitting together slightly.

Patsy put her hand on the envelope which had already been opened, "Well, this one contains all the legal documents pertaining to my father's estate – but that one…" she pointed to the unopened letter, "…arrived this morning and is addressed to you – and I think we both know what it might contain." With her elbows on the table she steepled her fingers touching them briefly to her lips, "So, I propose that we put and end to any further suspense and open it now."

Delia hesitantly lifted the envelope. She turned it over in her hands and noted the return address 'Central Midwives Board for England & Wales', she slid one finger under the edge of the sealed flap.

And then stopped.

She glanced at Patsy, "I can't, I'm scared!"

Patsy smiled, "Deels, you're the bravest person I know…"

Delia shook her head, "I need a moment – can we talk about your envelope first?"

Patsy nodded, "Of course."
She removed the papers from the envelope and spread them out on the table between them, then she reached for Delia's hand and squeezed it gently. "Deels, I'm not entirely sure where to start as there's so much for us to think about, but at this juncture at least, I shall endeavour to simply summarise."

Delia nodded, "Certainly sweetheart – do continue…"

Patsy took a deep breath, "Well, the upshot of it all is that we now have quite a significant sum of money, as well as the deeds to two properties – one in London and another in Brighton."

Delia stopped her with a gentle squeeze of her hand, "Pats…" she began, "all of this is yours – you're father left it to you…" but she herself was cut off with another squeeze on her own hand.

"No Deels, it's ours. I don't want any of it if I can't share it with you." she gazed at Delia earnestly, "One of the things I did today as part of the proceedings was make a will. It will all be yours anyway… should things… turn out that way…"

Delia was shocked, "No Pats, I can't bear the thought of that!" sudden unexpected tears began to well, her eyes threatening to brim over.

Patsy smiled softly, "I'm sorry Deels, I know it sounds horribly morbid, but it's actually a good thing. Think of it this way: should anything happen to me, my father's legacy will be in the safest pair of hands I can think of – I know he would be more than happy with that – I certainly am." She placed a light kiss on Delia's knuckles, "So that aside, let's focus on the positive side of this. It's enormously exciting – I mean, this could really be the beginning of the rest of our lives together!"

Delia laughed through her tears – she couldn't help it – Patsy's enthusiasm was infectious. In fact, she was certain she'd never seen her quite so excited about the future.

"Come then Deels," Patsy grinned and nodded towards the as yet unopened envelope, "Your turn!"

Delia hastily wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.
"OK.." then she quickly tore the flap open. Reaching inside, she gingerly removed the letter and held it up before her, then read the contents out loud: "The Central Midwives Board for England & Wales do hereby recognise that Delia Busby, SRN is now a State Certified Midwife."

Her hand flew to her mouth in disbelief and her eyes re-read just to be sure, "I passed," she whispered almost to herself, then louder, "I passed!"

Patsy laughed and pulled her into a hug, "Of course you passed – just as I knew you would – you're a Midwife Deels!" Then gently releasing the dazed brunette, she reached into her dressing gown-pocket and produced a small box which she placed on the table. "I got you something to mark the occasion…"

Delia picked up the box and examined it, her face quizzical.
It was only slightly larger than a cigarette packet and tied with a yellow ribbon. She undid the ribbon and carefully lifted the lid, and there – nestled inside on a bed of tissue paper – was a beautifully ornate silver belt buckle. She lifted it from the box and held it in the palm of her hand, it felt surprisingly heavy…

"Patsy it's beautiful, and so thoughtful of you… thank you…" she whispered. "I've never actually had one of these. When I graduated as a nurse, I only ever wore the plain NHS standard-issue buckle. My family don't know about this tradition – but then I suppose I don't really tell them much about my work, do I?"

"Perhaps you should tell them a little more often?" Patsy suggested gently.

"I know I should, but Mam makes it so difficult sometimes…"

Patsy smiled, "Give her a chance Deels, you might be surprised at just how proud of you she really is, even if she does have an odd way of showing it sometimes."

Delia chewed her lip and nodded, "Pats… I didn't say anything at the time, but I overheard what you said to Mam at Christmas… and so did Da'…"

Patsy shot her a worried glance, "Oh…"

Delia smiled softly and continued, "… and I've never felt more proud to have you in my life than I did right then," she pulled Patsy close and added, "and Da' was mightily impressed too!"

"Ah…" was all Patsy managed before Delia silenced her with a kiss.

When they parted, Patsy rummaged in her gown pocket for a third time and produced another, albeit smaller envelope.

"Pats, just how deep are those pockets of yours?" Delia enquired with a grin.

Patsy arched an eyebrow, "Not so deep that I can't reach the bottom." She held the enveloped between them and seemed to gather her thoughts for a moment before speaking a little hesitantly, "Deels… I know you've literally just qualified… but what would you say to taking a little time out? The past few months have been such a whirlwind and I feel as though we need to stop and catch our breaths... to pause and take stock before we plunge forwards into our future."

Delia considered this for a moment, "What do you have in mind?"

"Well," Patsy began, "I though perhaps we could go travelling for a little while? There's so much of the world to see, and I want us to see it together."

Delia nodded, "I'd really love to do that with you Pats."

Patsy tilted her head and gazed at Delia for a long moment.
Then she smiled lopsidedly and leaned forward conspiratorially, "Well then, it's a good thing I got these…" she whispered, before plucking two open-ended BOAC tickets from the envelope, "…how do you feel about Africa…?"

Delia shook her head and smiled wryly, "You know, it's almost as though you've planned this…" then leaning forward she placed a chaste kiss on Patsy's cheek, "…and to answer your question I'd say yes – wherever you go, I go."

TBC...

Notes:

Belt buckle - It is the tradition for trained nurses to wear a buckle on their belt; this is usually silver and is often Victorian in style. Families of newly qualified nurses would often purchase a buckle as congratulatory present on graduating. This is the only bit of individuality that was allowed in a nurse's uniform. The buckles were normally worn with a petersham belt (petersham being a kind of material).

BOAC - British Overseas Airways Corporation (BOAC) was the British state-owned airline created in 1940 by the merger of Imperial Airways and British Airways Ltd. It continued operating overseas services throughout World War II. After the passing of the Civil Aviation Act of 1946, European and South American services passed to two further state-owned airlines, British European Airways (BEA) and British South American Airways (BSAA). BOAC absorbed BSAA in 1949, but BEA continued to operate British domestic and European routes for the next quarter century. A 1971 Act of Parliament merged BOAC and BEA with effect from 31 March 1974, forming today's British Airways.