AN: A massive thanks to Steff, who wrangles my grammar into shape. She's a brilliant writer in her own right which is well worth a look. Of course feedback is always welcome. Reviews motivate new chapters as much as being trapped by snow.
AN: Also massive apologies on the formatting issues upon initial posting! What a nightmare.
"This is the fifth house today, Pats," Delia stated as they stood in the kitchen.
Patsy looked around the house that they had just finished being led through by the agent. She understood Delia's frustration. She also felt tired from having been led through four previous perfectly acceptable houses. Each had the requisite requirements that each woman set down: 2+ bedrooms, a decent sized kitchen, a space for bicycles, a lack of nosey neighbours, and if possible, some garden space or at least the possibility of a window sill garden. Patsy was willing to concede to that. It was even located an even distance between Nonnatus House and the London.
Still, Patsy had insisted that every option should be explored. No judgement should be made in haste, she said brusquely. Delia capitulated to her lover's strong will but only because she understood that sometimes patience was rewarded. However upon arrival to this house, Delia was convinced. This was the house where they could build a future.
"We will have to have a phone line installed," Patsy remarked.
"Easily done. If my mam could get one at her house in Pembrokeshire it can't be a problem getting one done in the heart of London," Delia smirked.
Patsy considered the place for a moment. She weighed up all the possibilities. No reasonable objection could be made.
"Darling, there are only two bedrooms. No guest bedroom I'm afraid," Patsy smirked.
"Pats. Mam can just use one of the bedrooms and we'll just have to share the other," she chuckled.
"Damn. I suppose that settles it." She paused for dramatic effect. "We'll just have to take this perfect house and allow your family to stay if needs be," Patsy gave her love a lopsided smile.
Delia laughed gloriously and spun in delight.
"We have been here before Nurse Mount," Sister Julienne said laughingly from behind her desk.
"I know Sister Julienne. And the same reasoning applies, Sister. It's time that I gained some independence and Delia...Nurse Busby... has been eager for some time," Patsy replied.
"You will both be greatly missed," Sister Julienne smiled sincerely.
"We can't properly move in until January 2nd it seems, so you will be stuck with us for a few more weeks," Patsy smiled in return.
She had truly found a family and home in Nonnatus House. The only real home that she had ever known if she was honest. Patsy knew that such places were rare in this world. She was grateful for her experiences in this house over the past 4 years. It had truly saved her humanity at its greatest moment of despair.
"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love," Sister Julienne quoted. "I wish you both all the best," Sister Julienne beamed gracefully.
She paused as Patsy soaked in the Sister's loving nature. Patsy had never been a religious sort, but these sisters had been the greatest example of human compassion.
"And know that you both have an open space here at Nonnatus House," she offered.
"Thank you Sister," Patsy said as she rose from her seat.
Tim was not sure whether John was his best mate. But the fact that he had agreed to journey out to Soho after the "bangs haircut" debacle was encouraging. After 3 days of unmitigated stick Tim had decided that perhaps a more "Steve McQueen" haircut might be worth trying. Shelagh had quickly agreed and brought out the scissors.
He had read that it was a psychological fact that men between the ages of 12-18 created social relationships that lasted for the rest of their lives. Tim had spent several years of his childhood either sick or feeling isolated from others his age. Since starting grammar school he had built up a few chums that he could hang out with and play football on occasion. It was a great start.
Also it helped when you needed a look out.
Tim had churned over in his mind what he had witnessed a million times. It had only been for a split second but he knew that he had seen Miss Busby and Miss Mount that night. Miss Mount's ginger beehive stuck out in any crowd. His keen sense of observation had quickly taken in everything that he could discern and process at that moment. He applied the Scientific Method that his father had taught him early in life.
Lying in bed he had stared at the ceiling and processed the facts that he knew. Miss Busby and Miss Mount had always been joined at the hip. It was not unusual for him to see them at a ladies club. He had also observed girls being physically close to each other, even holding hands on occasion. None of this should seem out of order.
And yet it did.
What he couldn't make sense of was the sudden effect that he had felt observing the two women. It had felt like he had seen sparks in the air between them. Thinking back, it wasn't all that dissimilar to what he had seen between his dad and Sister Bernadette. Still, as a child he had not completely understood the depth of feeling that his parents had shared. He had just known that it made his father smile, and that had been all that he had needed to know.
It added another piece to the puzzle that was Delia Busby. After a month of brooding he knew that he had to move on from his heartache over the Welsh nurse. It had been a fascination that he could chalk up to inevitable hormones. He had misunderstood her friendliness and easy smiles for interest. A need for possession of her had overtaken him and it had ruined a friendship. Perhaps by helping her he could gain back her trust. Tim understood that he wasn't supposed to be involved with other people's business but it had helped with his father and Shelagh. So, maybe it might help him get into Delia Busby's good books again.
Still, some research was needed and he needed a partner.
John stood at the end of the side alleyway while Tim looked for a side door. They had found the ladies club on King's Road easily enough. Still there was no sign on the door. Not even any indication that there was a club at all.
"Hurry it up Turner!" John hissed.
Tim knew that every club had a side door for deliveries and staff. His father used them often whenever he been called on medical emergencies and wanted to avoid the crowd. He was just searching for a name to the club so that he could look further into it.
"Turner! Heads up, delivery coming in!" John whispered loudly down the alley.
Trapped as he saw the delivery lorry go down the alleyway, he saw an opportunity arise. Swiftly he ducked behind some rubbish bins. Making himself as small as he could, Tim calmed his breathing. He heard the side door creak open and the telltale sounds of barrels rolling out. Raising his head over the bins he spied a woman watching the delivery man unload his lorry. She smoked a cigarette and looked over some paperwork. Tim recognised her from last week as the woman who let him use her office phone.
"Some day. You and Me. Brighton Beach. What do you think?" the delivery man smirked.
"Dream on. You've got the wrong parts for me," she said eyes glued as she looked over the clipboard. "I think we may need to order more kegs during the holidays Jerry," she signed and handed over the papers.
"Dykes sure drink it up for the holidays," he bantered.
"Gateways is a ladies club," she warned. "We don't use that language out here," she whispered in a growling voice.
"Meant nothing by it Gina. Let us know if you need an emergency delivery should you be running low," he shouted as he climbed back into the lorry.
John had disappeared but Tim assumed he was waiting for the coast to clear. Tim waited for the woman to finish her cigarette and go inside. He looked down just as he felt some movement below him. At that moment a nice large rat decided to cross over Tim's brown plimsolls. Leaping up, he yelped in shock. Even more shocked was Gina who had just finished her cigarette.
"You little shit! What the fuck are you doing?" she shouted charging toward him.
Tim turned on his heels and ran without looking back.
Catching his breath, Tim finally stopped running and slumped down onto the park bench. He searched for John in the street outside Chelsea Book Shoppe. It was a pre-arranged meet up spot if they got separated. Tim looked around and saw John sauntering up the opposite end of the street.
He waved him over.
"Thought you were a goner once I heard that woman come out," John said exasperated.
"A lucky escape," Tim grinned.
"Well, go on," John motioned toward the bookshop. As a cover if asked, Tim was going to buy a comic just in case they were questioned about being in Soho.
The boys headed in and were instantly drawn to the magazine stands. Scouring for the comics, Tim stumbled upon an academic looking newsletter that he hadn't seen before. Grabbing the newsletter and a comic he went to the counter where an elderly man was at the till. Putting a few bob on the counter, he let the man take the periodicals. The man smiled as he looked over the comic but his face swiftly changed to a grimace as he picked up the copy of the Minority Research Group Newsletter. He placed it back on the counter and leaned in speaking softly.
"Son, this isn't for you," he said.
"What?" Tim questioned.
"I'll sell you the comic. But don't be trying any funny business around here," he warned as he rang up the register.
"What do you mean? I just like to read science journals," he insisted. It was not the first time that he had been denied something by a condescending adult, but Tim didn't like the way that the elderly man was eyeing him across the counter.
"It ain't a science journal, and it ain't for kids," he growled and turned away indicating that the conversation was over.
"Come on Tim, let's go," John urged behind him. Tim followed as John headed out of the shop with his comic in hand.
Out on the street, John suddenly pulled him into a side alley by his elbow.
"Hey!" he shouted.
Tim was still a bit angry about the shopkeeper but lightened up a little when he saw the grin on John's face. John pulled something out from under his shirt and handed it to Tim. Tim scanned it and ascertained it was the science looking periodical that he'd been denied inside the bookshop.
"You stole this?!" Tim laughed.
"Lifted it while you distracted him at the counter. But Tim…" he paused nervously. "I don't think this is a science journal." He looked around checking to see that they were alone. Tim noted that John's entire body had tensed up.
"What John?" Tim asked as he quickly hid the stolen newsletter inside the comic he had purchased.
"It's about queers, Tim. Lady Queers," he whispered leaning in. "Y'know...lesbians."
"I didn't know, John. I swear that I didn't know," Tim insisted as they waited at the bus stop.
They had walked silently to the stop for the bus that would take them back to Poplar. Both teenagers needed to get home or their families would start to make inquiries. Also Tim needed some time to clear his head and put together all the information that he had collected.
And discern how it connected to Delia Busby.
"Tim...If you were a homo...I wouldn't care," John said quietly.
"I'm not! I swear!" Tim insisted. "It is all just an investigation. Really. That is it," he said genuinely.
John paused as he looked into his friend's eyes. Tim could see a decision being made by his school friend. After a pause, a grin played across his friend's face.
"You're different Turner, but I don't think you're queer," he said sincerely. "And I've seen your eyes wander around the girl's skirts," John smirked.
Tim sighed in relief, then he mockingly hit John's shoulder. He audibly scoffed at the insinuation that he'd ever leered at a woman's body. Although he knew full well that he had. They laughed and each felt relieved that such an awkward moment had passed.
The bus arrived and they climbed atop it heading to the top section in order to be in the open air.
"Still Turner, what do you care about dykes for?" his friend asked breezily. "What's it got to do with you?" he followed up.
"Nothing," Tim said as he looked away. "I'm just curious," he added.
"Wait…" John leaned in confidentially so that no one else would hear. "Do you know one? Around here?" he asked with a smirk.
Tim shook his head in the negative, but didn't say anything. "It's just research for a project," he said and changed the topic to football.
After he arrived home he took the newsletter out and read it cover to cover. As he stared at the ceiling he thought for a moment. He had never considered it before now. Everyone had heard about John Amos being taken to court and that his father had helped him. Homosexuality was against the law, but he'd never heard of any women being charged. Ever.
Still, he was putting some clues together in his mind. And it now became apparent to him that Delia Busby was lying to everyone including himself.
And it made him angry.