Chapter Four

Fever

Delia woke abruptly, shivering. Fred had still not managed to fix the boiler, claiming he needed to source some rather obscure parts from a bloke he knew down the docks. It all sounded rather dodgy but if it meant warmth then nobody was about to question the morals.

She glanced over to Patsy's sleeping form. The tall woman was also shivering. It was bitterly cold. Delia could see her breath in the moonlight despite wearing Patsy's sweater and two thick blankets. They had decided on the whole that it was too risky to put their beds together but Delia and her freezing toes were already regretting agreeing to the arrangement.

Huffing, she gathered the cocoon of blankets and padded over towards Patsy's bed, her feet making no noise on the floorboards due to being encased in three pairs of socks.

"Pats. Are you awake?" she whispered into the darkness.

"No." came a grunt.

Delia waddled over and planted herself next to the sleeping form of the other woman.

"Please Pats... Budge over, I'm freezing."

Another grunt and Patsy moved slightly, leaving just enough room for Delia and her collection of blankets to slip onto the bed. Wrapping them on top of Patsy, the bed groaned with the weight of two women and four blankets. Delia pulled herself flush to the redhead's back, feeling instant warmth radiating from her.

"Mmm... how do you stay so warm?" she nuzzled her cold nose into the fabric of Patsy's pyjamas, breathing in her scent.

Soon the rhythm of their breathing matched and both drifted off into sleep once again.

It might have been a few hours or maybe even a few minutes when Delia woke again, this time due to an arm in her face. Rolling over she opened her eyes blearily.

Patsy was tangled in the blankets and sheets, thrashing, her forehead glistening with sweat.

Delia's heart raced. Not again...

She gently untangled Patsy from the mess she'd got herself in and tried to placate the distraught sleeping woman. Fortunately she hadn't began to scream and Delia decided it would probably be better to attempt to wake her before the whole house was alerted to the scenario.

"Patsy... Patsy wake up love, it's okay..." she shook her shoulders gently.

"Onegaishimasu!" came a distressed cry.

"Patsy!" said Delia slightly more urgently.

The taller woman's eyes snapped open, locked with Delia for a split second before she turned and vomited over the side of the bed.

"Oh Pats..." Delia pulled the red tresses out her face as she heaved again.

Gasping for air Patsy began shaking. Delia was quick to wrap her arms around the quivering body.

"It's all right cariad, you're safe. You're okay." she whispered. "No-one's going to hurt you."

Patsy took another gulp of air. "Delia..." she spoke shakily. "I'm sorry..." she began.

"Shh, don't be sorry. Let's get you cleaned up." Delia rose from the bed and switched on the bedside lamp.

The bright light blinded them both temporarily. Once her eyes had adjusted Delia's heart hammered loudly in her ears. Patsy was paper white, her chest rising and falling rapidly, a thin layer of perspiration covering her visible pale skin.

"I'm going to go and get a mop and bucket okay? Would you like a glass of water?" she asked steadily.

Patsy nodded, her eyes closing.

Delia had no idea how she managed to sneak down to the broom closet, back up to their room and proceed to clean the floor without waking or alerting any of the others but she was thankful. The last thing Patsy needed right now was a crowd. By the time she'd finished Patsy had her back to the wall and was breathing more steadily, the smell of bleach clearly having a calming effect on her.

Taking a glass of water Delia passed it to her.

"Drink this, it'll help." she coaxed.

Patsy accepted the drink without comment, her parched, chapped lips closing round the glass and sucking at the cool liquid.

"I'm sorry." she whispered again.

"What did I say about apologising?" Delia sighed taking the glass and setting it down on the table.

Patsy coughed. And then coughed again. Delia looked at her concerned before raising the back of her hand to her glistening forehead.

"Bloody hell Pats, you're boiling." she exclaimed. "No wonder it was like sleeping next to a human hot water bottle, you've got a terrible temperature!"

"I feel freezing." Patsy admitted before attempting to draw the blankets up towards her chin.

Delia stopped her abruptly. "Oh no you don't. Fever 101, you know the drill. No blankets."

Patsy grunted disdainfully then shivered.

"I'm sorry cariad but it looks like the flu to me." Delia reached for a cold clammy hand.

"Does that mean I've lost my company for the night?"

"Fraid so, I've got an exam in a few days remember?"

Patsy nodded.

"Pats..." Delia began slowly.

"What?" came a rather sharp reply.

Delia winced. It was almost as if Patsy knew what she was about to ask.

"Do you want to talk about them? The nightmares?" she asked softly.

Patsy sank down into the bed and rolled away from the Welshwoman in reply. Delia couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness mixed with frustration. She reached over and rubbed the redhead's back gently.

"In your own time cariad. I'm just worried about you." she whispered.

There was no verbal reply, instead Patsy began coughing again, move violently this time. She rolled over and sat up, unable to find a comfortable position.

"I think I'm going to go downstairs for a bit. Maybe try sleeping in an armchair."

Delia sighed, defeated and nodded. "Alright. Do you want me to help you?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." she rose off the bed, took two paces and wobbled slightly.

Delia was up as quick as a flash next to her in case she fell.

"I said I'm fine Delia." Patsy's voice was harsher than was maybe intended but had its desired effect as Delia withdrew herself and watched the tall woman retreat downstairs.

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and fell back into her own bed. The smell of bleach still lingering on the air. Perhaps Patsy was just feeling under the weather, that's why she'd snapped. Cursing Fred under her breath for not fixing the boiler sooner she fell into a light slumber.

"Do you think we should call Doctor Tuner?"

"I think it might be for the best."

"She was adamant she was alright though..."

"But she did look ever so peaky."

Voices wafted up the landing and into Delia's sleepy mind as she stirred.

Patsy.

She shot up, hurrying downstairs and was met by a congregation of concerned nuns and midwives.

"What's going on?" Delia asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

"Patsy's got a terrible fever. It looks like she came downstairs in the middle of the night poor thing." explained Trixie.

"I was just saying I think we should call Doctor Turner, just to be sure - besides she was on a ship full of god only knows what, she could have caught all manner of things!" Phyllis added.

Delia gaped. "I'm sure it's just the flu or something, the house is freezing."

"Nevertheless, I think we ought to be safe rather than sorry." said Phyllis.

"I agree." added Sister Julienne. "I'll call Doctor Tuner."

Patsy was sat in the comfy armchair by the fire, her fevered brow still glistening in the morning light, skin so pale it could almost be made of porcelain. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be sleeping but her breaths were laboured, a wheezing sound coming from her chest. Delia crouched beside her with a cup of warm tea.

"Patsy?" she gently shook the older woman's arm.

Patsy awoke with another coughing fit before sinking back into the chair looking warn. Dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept in weeks.

"Here, drink this." Delia offered up the tea.

"My throat feels like sandpaper." Patsy sounded horse as she accepted the drink.

"We think you've got the flu. Doctor Turner's coming to check up on you soon." said Delia softly.

Patsy made no move to argue with the smaller woman, she was simply too tired.

"I'm meant to be revising today but I can stay in here if you want me to?"

"Thank you." the redhead's voice was scratchy.

"Okay, let me go get my revision notes and I'll join you in a mo. I'll see if I can get you some soup, you should really try to eat something."

Patsy smiled weakly. Despite their arguing Delia was in half nurse half caring girlfriend mode and it made her heart glow with something other than the pounding fever.

Doctor Tuner was meticulous in his examination. Stethoscope in his ears he instructed the tall midwife to breathe in and out. Although she knew exactly what he was about to do before he even did it she was a model patient and followed procedure flawlessly until the older man straightened up, apparently satisfied.

"You're right. It's a pretty bad case of the flu I'm afraid. Bed rest and plenty of fluids. We'll have to wait until this fever's broken before we'll be able to say anymore. But by the looks of things..." Dr Turner indicated to Patsy's drenched forehead"... that shouldn't be too long."

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief at the news. Sister Julienne had rushed off to have words with Fred about the state of the boiler before any more of her nurses succumbed to illness and had to be taken off the rota.

Delia could feel the relief wash over her in waves. She thanked the kind Doctor quietly on his way out. He seemed a little surprised at the gesture from the small welshwoman but accepted gracefully. "Just call me if anything changes."

By that evening Patsy's fever had indeed broken and the shivering started to be due to lack of heat rather than too much of it. Delia had set up base in the sitting room, her revision notes strewn across the floor. Patsy was visibly twitchy at the mess her girlfriend was sitting in but was to ill to begin berating her for it.

"Deels, how can you work in such a mess?" she asked wearily.

"Just because I don't colour-code my notes with little sticky tabs and a dozen fancy colourful pencils." she huffed, remembering their days from training together. Their two very different styles of revision clashing on more than one occasion.

"They were not sticky and I only had two colours."

Delia rolled her eyes. She enjoyed the playful chatter. It meant Patsy was feeling a bit better than she had this morning.

"I can't believe this exam is so soon." Delia mused, trying to keep the worry out her voice and to sound casual.

Patsy of course, picked up on it.

"You'll be fine Deels. If the state of that textbook is anything to go on, you've read that thing so much it's in need of a nurse of its own." she rested her head on the back of the chair, wiping her forehead with her pyjama sleeve.

"You should rest in bed for a bit." Delia eyed her girlfriend as another coughing fit overtook her.

Patsy covered her face in her hands. "I'm meant to be meeting my father's solicitor tomorrow."

"Can you rearrange?"

"I'm not sure..."

"You're not well, I doubt Dr Turner would want you to go outside like this - I certainly don't." she sighed. "You do look a lot better since last night." she added on the end, trying to sound positive.

Patsy smiled weakly. "I feel better."

"Good. Then up to bed with you, I'll come join you later on with a biscuit and some tea."

Patsy trouped upstairs, dragging her feet and blankets with her, sniffling all the way up. She was a rather sorry sight and Delia wished she didn't have so much work to do so she could devote more time to looking after her poor battered girlfriend. She was seriously considering abandoning her work for the night when a stern faced Phyllis appeared in the doorway with her knitting needles.

"This seat taken?" she gestured to the armchair.

Delia shook her head in response. Phyllis smiled and settled herself into the chair Patsy had just vacated. She began knitting in silence for a while as Delia tried to concentrate on a deftly dull passage about preeclampsia.

"How is Nurse Mount?" Phyllis asked. She looked around and lowered her voice. "I hope she's alright."

"She's better thank you, she had a bit of a rough night last night." said Delia.

The strain must have shown on her face as Phyllis' next question filled her with a newfound anxiety.

"Did she have another night terror?" the older woman's voice was soft and gentle.

Delia nodded, suddenly feeling rather sick.

"I know it's not my place to pry but - I couldn't help but feel concern for her, for you both the other night. If there's anything I can do- "

"Thank you." Delia smiled tight lipped, knowing she'd never take the older woman up on the offer.

She needed to get out of the confines of the dark room. Rising to her feet she almost made it out the room before she felt a hand on her arm.

"Don't forget to look after yourself too." Phyllis' kind eyes bore into Delia's slightly glazed look.

It was nearly midnight when Delia returned to her and Patsy's room. She'd spent the rest of the evening alone, avoiding company as much as possible. During Patsy's absence she'd become accustomed to solitude and craved it desperately that evening. The craving had since passed and now she wanted to curl up in bed and sleep. She was tired - no, she was exhausted. Patsy would probably be long asleep, hopefully managing to rest away her illness.

It came as a surprise to find a sliver of light coming from under the bedroom door. Pushing it open slowly she found Patsy, sitting upright in bed, the covers gathered at the bottom of the bed, her hands tapping nervously. The redhead's eyes fixated on a point on the far wall, legs drawn up to her chest and rocking ever so slightly.

"Pats?"

She closed the door and sat on her bed opposite, not wanting to crowd the nervous woman. There was still a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, her skin pale and clammy.

"I don't want to fall asleep." came a small voice.

"Why not?"

"I'm scared."

Delia shifted her weight onto Patsy's bed, prising her knees from her chin and enveloping her in a warm embrace. She kissed the red hair and stroked it carefully.

"Being there... it bought back so many memories. Things I thought I'd forgotten, pushed to the back of my mind."

Knowing this was a time for her to be silent, Delia continued stroking and kissing the red hair under her chin.

"It feels so real. Like that guard is right there, shouting- " she began shaking again, her knees drawing up to her chest again, her body involuntarily entering the foetal position.

"Cariad... I'm so sorry. It must be awful." Delia began to feel the tears streaming down her arm that held the taller woman close.

"I can see them so clearly. They won't go away."

Delia's heart was breaking with the sadness she felt for her love. If she could fight these demons, banish them from Patsy's mind she would. But there was nothing she could do apart form hugs and sympathy, she felt rather useless. Helpless.

"Pats, cariad, have you thought about talking to someone about this?"

It might be a silly suggestion, she could barely talk to Delia about it - she'd never gone into detail about what had happened to her at the camp, only the bare minimum. Delia knew there was a lot left unsaid but had never pried, Patsy would tell her in her own time she'd told herself. But this was different, the painful memories were eating away at her from the inside. Delia was not completely stupid, she knew a problem shared was often a problem halved.

Patsy shook her head forcefully at the suggestion.

Delia didn't push any further. "Would it help if I held you? While you slept?"

Patsy nodded. "But I'm infectious?"

"I don't care."

With that she helped Patsy into a fresh set of pyjamas and settled into bed next to her, draping an arm around her waist and holding on tightly.

"I've got you Pats. Rydych yn ddiogel."

Although she knew Patsy didn't understand what she'd just said, the taller woman relaxed against her at the words.

"Ewch i gysgu. Mae'n iawn cariad."

That night both women slept peacefully under copious blankets, their breaths mirroring each other, visible in the cold night air.