Chapter Eight
New Year, Old Memories
The final day of 1962 dawned to yet another blanket of snow. Phyllis's car was now officially out of commission until further notice - the engine packing in the previous day, no doubt because of the mercury hitting extreme negatives. The staff at Nonnatus were becoming stretched. District rounds were chock-a-block with cases of the flu and pneumonia. Poplar just wasn't prepared for such a cold snap, especially the more poverty stricken areas with no insulation, let alone money to feed the meter. Barbara had suffered a broken wrist after an encounter with an icy patch of road sent her and her bicycle flying. Thankfully she'd hit a bank of soft snow which had prevented any serious damage. But Nonnatus were now a man down.
With Barbara out of commission and resources stretched to breaking point, Patsy had agreed to return to district duties to help relieve some of the tension. Delia had volunteered to help out as best she could, but not being officially employed by Nonnatus, she was rather limited in the assistance she could provide. Having proven her worth at telephone duty many moons ago, she now found herself stationed by the receiver with a mug of warm milky tea.
Despite the chaos of the past week, Delia felt as though she was on cloud nine. This had been the best Christmas ever and next year promised to be even better. Her mind whirred with all the things she had to look forward to. Finding a new flat with Patsy, becoming a proper midwife, maybe even working alongside the redhead, now that would be interesting. She smiled to herself. Patsy in her element was quite something to behold. She couldn't deny the attraction she felt towards the taller woman when she commanded a situation and took control. Perhaps they shouldn't work together.
Delia stirred her tea and reached for the pen that was lying on the table. The telephone hadn't rung for hours now. There had been one mother earlier that morning who had gone into labour. Phyllis had been dispatched post-haste (via bicycle this time) and she hadn't heard anything since. It was Mrs Fortescue though, a first time mother who would probably be in the first stage of labour for quite a few hours. Delia was hit with a pang of envy. She wanted to be out there, putting her skills to use, not holed up by the telephone, especially when the staff were so stretched. She felt like a spare part not being put to good use and just weighing down the machine.
Grabbing a piece of paper from a wad lying on the desk she began to write.
Dear Sister Julienne,
Please accept my formal application to join Nonnatus House in my official capacity as a midwife.
Was that too formal? She'd lived here for well over a year now, it's not as though the Sister and her were strangers. It was Sister Julienne who'd initially invited her to stay following her accident after all. Screwing up the paper she tried again.
Dear Sister Julienne,
I'd like to apply to join Nonnatus House as a midwife.
Perhaps not formal enough. Delia sighed in exasperation and screwed up the paper again. Maybe she just needed to talk to the woman. She was always very approachable. But this busy period had everyone on edge rather and she didn't want to upset anyone. Delia chewed the pen thoughtfully. What would Patsy do?
Patsy would get stuck in. She would muck in and help and be damned the pleasantries.
The door slammed open and a blonde woman, followed by a flurry of snow entered.
"Trixie!" Delia exclaimed, trying to hide all evidence of her letters under the table.
Trixie was in a right state. Cheeks flushed with cold, Her hair sticking out from all sides, mascara running and her burgundy hat askew.
"I can't feel my fingers!" her teeth chattered.
"Oh no you poor thing, lets get you thawed out by the fire." Delia offered kindly.
Gently she manoeuvred the shivering blonde from the hallway into the living room and deposited her on an armchair by the fire. Slowly Trixie began to regain feeling in her extremities.
"I've had enough of Mr Bentley's ulcers to last a lifetime." she said with a weary sigh.
Delia shot her a sympathetic look before prodding the rather lacklustre fire back into life.
"Must be really nice to be tucked up all warm by the telephone." she winked.
Delia prodded slightly more aggressively.
"I suppose it's alright."
Trixie's eyes narrowed. Ever astute to the change in her friend's tone.
"Have you spoken to Sister Julienne?" she asked casually.
Delia tensed. "No, why?"
"Well, what with Barbara out of commission and our resources stretched to the limit - we could use an extra pair of hands."
Delia plopped another log on the fire and sighed. Trixie was right. She just needed to go and talk to her.
Patsy cycled up the East India Dock Road as snow and bitterly cold salty air whipped through her hair trying to head her progress. It was refreshing to be back she thought as she took the sharp right turn onto Bath Street. Mind you anything made a welcome change from the boring meetings with boring men about boring financial matters. She was sticking to her mantra of "If I ignore it, it might all go away" for the time being and getting stuck into what she knew she was good at. Nursing.
She dismounted her bike, leaving it to rest lightly against the side of the building. This was her final stop for the day and soon she'd back back home with a nice warm meal and maybe some time later on for a card game...
The prospect filled her with warmth as she rapped smartly on the black door of number 26. A commotion was occurring in the small house next door but nobody came to answer.
"Nurse calling!" Patsy called out brightly.
Still nothing. The lights were off. She tried again, knocking a little louder this time. A dog started barking from across the street. Undeterred, Patsy reached into her bag for her notes. She was sure she had the right address. Holding the small slip of paper up to the light of the streetlamp she read: Number 26 Bath Street, Mr Lowe, suspected chest infection, antibiotics to be administered. She confirmed the details before glancing at her watch. It was nearly 6pm. Perhaps she should call it a day.
Suddenly there was movement, a scuffle from behind the door.
"Hello?" Patsy called out. "Mr Lowe?"
Silence.
Concern for her potential patient growing, Patsy knelt down to peer through the letter box. The smell hit her before she had a chance to brace for it. Snapping the letter box shut she gagged for a moment, drawing in lungfuls of fresh air in an attempt to calm her unsettled stomach. Her heart pounded in her ears.
Death had a certain smell, there was no denying. Grimly, Patsy stood up and tried the handle. The door didn't budge.
There was that scuffle sound again. Rats perhaps? There were more rats than people in Poplar so it wouldn't be a surprise.
There was a sudden loud clatter from inside the house. A chill ran the length of Patsy's spine, the heckles on her neck raised. Something was off about this whole situation. She didn't believe in ghosts, there was definitely someone or something still alive inside. And whoever it was seemed very scared.
Reaching over Patsy unscrewed the lamp from the front of her bicycle. She knelt down again, this time taking care to open the letter box and allowing the stench of death to go upwind of her.
"Hello?" she called out softly.
There was a rustle.
Patsy shone the lamp through the small slit. The light fell onto what could only be described as a bomb-site. It was absolutely filthy. Grime coated the walls and the floor, the rug in the hallway all but destroyed by mice. Sweeping the light further Patsy's breath caught in her throat. A pair of ghostly eyes stared back at her. She startled and almost dropped the lamp.
"Hello." she tried again. "My name's Patsy, what's your name?"
There was a pregnant pause. Then, gingerly a small figure stepped forward into the light. Patsy's mouth went dry.
There amongst the dirt and crud stood a small girl, probably about eight or nine (if Patsy had to guess). Her arms clasped tightly to her chest as if to shield her from the blinding light. She was so desperately skinny, her alabaster skin mottled and tinged with a sickly green hue. If her slight sway was anything to go by, it seemed as though Patsy had arrived not a moment too soon. The poor child was at death's door.
"I know this has been a jolly good game of hide and seek but I think we need to stop now and get some tea. What do you say?" Patsy smiled.
The girl looked terrified and began checking over her shoulders as if expecting some form of resistance.
"I have some boiled sweets in my bag, do you like the red ones?"
A small, barely noticeable nod.
"Well then. Luckily for you I prefer the green ones, so together I'm sure we'll manage to finish them off. What do you say?"
Patsy's heart was still thudding loudly in her ears. She had no idea what to do but whatever she was saying seemed to be working. The child nodded again but still didn't move.
"Can you come and open the door for me sweetie? I promise I won't come in."
Gradually the girl inched her way forwards. It was as if she were terrified Patsy could lash out at any moment. Patsy directed the lamp light away from the girl's face and onto the floor to aid her navigation towards the door.
As soon as the lock clicked, Patsy retracted the lamp and herself, standing further back to allow the heavy door to creak open. She knelt down to the height of the little girl and reached into her pocket.
Immediately the girl jumped backwards and hid behind the door.
"It's okay!" said Patsy hurriedly. "I'm just getting the sweets." she held out the small striped paper bag. "See?"
Taking extra care not to make any sudden movements she eased herself down to a kneeling position on the porch. The hard stone scratched her nylons and she felt the sting of pain as her skin grated against concrete.
The girl took a ginger step towards her and Patsy picked out a red sweet before offering it to her at arms length. She took the sweet carefully before examining it to confirm its identity before popping it into her mouth.
Patsy watched with baited breath as she swirled the hard sugar around her mouth, sucking the juice and swallowing. The tiniest hint of a smile began tugging at the corner of her lips and Patsy breathed out a silent sigh of relief. They were getting somewhere.
The sound of knuckles rapping on heavy wood echoed through the hallway of Nonnatus House.
Delia shifted nervously from foot to foot as she awaited a response. It was usually around this time the Sister was in her office, catching up on paperwork before compline.
The door opened and Delia was greeted with a warm smile from the elder nun.
"Nurse Busby, is there something I can help you with?" she enquired kindly.
"Yes Sister Julienne, I was wondering if I could have a quick word?"
"Of course, do come in." She held the door open and stood aside, allowing the Welshwoman to enter her office.
It was a cosy space, quite dark apart from the light of a rusty oil lamp on the table and a small yet hearty fire in the hearth . The air seemed thick with history and the smell of antiquated books that lined the walls. Delia felt herself relax at the welcoming atmosphere and allowed herself to sink into the offered seat the other side of the Sister's desk.
"Now then Miss Busby, what can I do for you?"
Delia folded her hands awkwardly in her lap, twisting her fingers together as she tried to formulate a sentence.
"Sister, firstly, I want to thank you, for allowing me to stay at Nonnatus following my accident." she began hesitantly.
The nun smiled warmly. "It has been our pleasure."
Delia returned the smile from the kind natured woman before taking a deep breath.
"I was wondering, if it's not too much to ask, that is assuming you'd consider it... now I have passed my midwifery course, is there any possibility that I may be able to work here - for you, for Nonnatus, as a midwife?" the words came out in a bit of a rush and Delia felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment, her eyes firmly fixed on her lap.
Well done Busby.
There was a silence. Delia gulped and chanced a glance upward.
Sister Julienne was beaming back at her.
"Nurse Busby, we would welcome you with open arms. You have proven yourself more than capable and we would be honoured for you to join our ranks."
Delia tried her best to stop her jaw from hitting the floor. Was it really going to be that simple?
"I'm not sure if you are aware but Nurse Hereward's imminent departure to Birmingham leaves us rather short staffed so your timing has been impeccable. I would be delighted to offer you a position here at Nonnatus. Obviously your living arrangements need not be changed, you are well bonded with our current staff. I think it's a wonderful idea."
The smaller woman nodded, still dumbstruck.
"I will need you to fill out an official application of course and I will need to speak to the motherhouse, but that shouldn't be a problem. When were you thinking of starting?"
"Well, I have no current plans." Delia admitted. "And I have felt rather like a spare part for the last couple of weeks, it would be good to get stuck in as soon as possible. If that's alright!" she added quickly.
"An excellent attitude to have." Commended Sister Julienne. "We'll probably get you started on district rounds to begin with and then a few days a week at the clinic. Then we'll send you out with another midwife to supervise." She had begun searching through her desk drawers, hunting for a job application form.
Delia's heart was thumping so fast with excitement she suddenly felt quite lightheaded. Finally she would be able to give back, to do something useful. Fighting to contain a stupidly big grin from forming on her flushed face, she settled for a tight lipped smile, dimples in full force. Nervous adrenaline was making her want to dance a little jig of joy, wholly unsuitable behaviour for a nun's office.
Suddenly there were several loud bangs on the front door. Delia jumped a foot off her chair, her senses already heightened. She and the sister exchanged worried glances. Usually such a sound was accompanied by an emergency — often a labouring woman in dire need of urgent assistance.
Together they rushed from Sister Julienne's office, down the hallway, towards the front door. Trixie had also heard the commotion and was halfway down the stairs, rollers still in her hair.
"Help! Help me please!" a voice called out.
Delia's blood turned to ice. It was Patsy.
She sprinted the rest of the way to the door and with surprising strength for her size, heaved the heavy iron latch open, unlocking the door.
Patsy tumbled inside, a bundle wrapped in her arms.
"I found her alone, she needs food and water - and warmth, she freezing!"
Patsy held out the bundle to reveal the barely conscious form of a small girl with dirty blonde hair. Sister Julienne immediately took the child, cradling her to her chest for warmth.
"Nurse Franklin, call Doctor Turner."
Trixie nodded and rushed off towards the telephone.
"She needs an ambulance!" Patsy almost shouted in desperation.
Delia placed a hand on Patsy's arm in an attempt to calm the distressed woman.
"Pats, the snow's too heavy - an ambulance won't make it here tonight."
Patsy snatched her arm away. "We need to get her to hospital, she needs fluids..."
"Nurse Mount." Sister Julienne interjected quietly yet firmly. "She's safe now, we'll take care of her. Where did you find her?"
"I was on Bath Street. Mr Lowe was last on my list for antibiotics. Nobody answered the door so I checked through the letterbox. The smell was unmistakable, Sister." Patsy went pale. "and then I saw her." She gestured. "I managed to get her to open the door after a bit of persuading. Fortunately there was a telephone box at the end of the road, I called the police and confirmed Mr Lowe had passed. Then she collapsed so I ran here as fast as I could."
"You did the right thing." Said Delia.
Sister Julienne nodded. "We need to get her into the warm."
Patsy made to follow the sister but Delia put her arm out to stop her.
"I need to help her, Delia!" she said angrily.
"Pats, you've helped already her by bringing her here. She's safe now. She'll be alright."
Patsy's desperate eyes followed the retreating form of Sister Julienne before her legs gave way and her knees buckled. Delia was there quick as a flash to catch her as she sank to the floor.
"Let's get you warm." Delia looped a strong arm around the shaking woman.
It was as if all the resistance had melted away from the fiery redhead. She allowed the smaller woman to manoeuvre her up the stairs and into their room.
Gently Delia eased her onto the bed.
"We need to get you out of these - " she indicated towards Patsy's clothes. "They're sopping wet and we don't want you catching another bout of flu."
Delia was shaking with delayed shock but she had to keep it together for now, she couldn't come undone in front of Patsy. She had to be the strong one in this moment.
Patsy sat there rigid and unblinking as Delia stripped her of her damp uniform, replacing it with her trademark blue flannelette pyjamas.
"There, much better." She said, running her hands gently down Patsy's arms, flattening out the creases.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Patsy collapsed forwards into Delia's arms, sobs wracking her body. Delia held on tightly as she wept. One hand stroking gentle circles on her back and planting light kisses on her titan hair.
Half an hour, maybe an hour passed before eventually the sobs dissipated. Delia eased away her cramping muscles and reached for her handkerchief, offering it to the redhead who blew her nose loudly.
When she spoke her voice was thick and horse from crying.
"I need to go and see her."
"Pats..."
"I need to make sure she's okay."
Delia sighed. The girl couldn't have been older than Patsy was when she had been imprisoned in the Japanese internment camp. While she knew in training they had been taught to distance themselves emotionally from their patients, sometimes this was damn near impossible. Especially when a case hit so very close to home. They might be able to come to a compromise though.
"Let's get you cleaned up, then we can go down and check up on how she's doing." she suggested.
Patsy nodded.
"We can lend her some of your pyjamas, I don't think any of the ones in the charity box will warm enough."
Patsy shook her head. "They'll be too big."
"Maybe just the top then. We can give her lots of blankets too."
Another nod.
"Right then. Let's get you sorted first."
Delia tried not to let her worry show. Patsy was acting very odd. She was staring at the same spot on the floor, her legs swinging slightly, arms clasped tightly to her chest defensively. Perhaps it was the shock. Shock affected everyone differently after all. Whatever the case, Patsy needed to rest, but it seemed as if she wouldn't hear of it until she'd checked up on her patient.
Delia hovered back at a distance, not wanting to crowd the young girl as Patsy talked to Sister Julienne.
"She's doing well. We managed to get her to eat and drink a bit. She is malnourished but Dr Turner says she's too weak to be moved tonight. He'll take another look at her tomorrow and if she's stronger he'll take her to the London in his car."
Patsy nodded, relief evident on her exhausted features.
"Now, may I suggest you get some rest Nurse Mount, we'll take it from here."
After brushing her teeth and changing into her pyjamas, Delia entered the room she shared with Patsy to find the taller woman sitting with her back to the headboard of the bed, staring off into space.
"You did really well today Pats." she said gently. "I'm proud of you."
Delia lifted the duvet and settled herself beside the taller woman. The held each other close for a while, in complete silence. Patsy shook her head as if trying to clear some invisible fog from her mind.
"It just... it all felt like such a blur. Finding her, coming here - I don't remember half of it." she admitted.
"Nurses instinct to protect someone." Delia mumbled, burying her head into the nook between Patsy's neck and shoulder. "It happens on autopilot sometimes."
Far off the sound of a clock striking twelve reached the ears of the weary pair.
"Not quite how I imagined spending new year." Delia admitted quietly.
Patsy smiled and Delia's heart soared for a moment.
The redhead dipped her head and captured Delia's lips in her own as the last of the chimes ended.
"Thank you." she whispered.
Delia locked eyes and held her gaze steady.
"I love you."
"I love you." Patsy replied.
Wordlessly they lay down, Delia wrapping her arms protectively around Patsy's body, forming the big spoon. Just as sleep began to take hold of them and settling limbs began to twitch, Patsy spoke.
"Happy New Year, Deels."
Delia smiled into the blue flannel of her girlfriend's pyjamas.
"Happy New Year, Pats."
Delia awoke to screaming.
She would have been lying if she said she was surprised. No preempting could ever prepare her for it though.
Quick as a flash she bolted upright and out her own bed over to the distressed redhead.
"Cariad. I'm here. You're alright." she began softly, stroking a fevered brow.
It did nothing. Patsy was still thrashing around, her long limbs tangled in sheets, fists white knuckled, grasping at the linen as if it were a lifeline.
"Patsy." she tried again, gently shaking her shoulder.
"Tasukete!" Patsy cried.
"Pats..." Tears were welling in Delia's eyes. She hated seeing her lover in so much distress and right now she felt powerless to help.
The door opened. In marched Phyllis Crane with a walk of purpose but a face of unmatched compassion. She knelt down beside Delia.
"Alright kid, you're alright." she muttered, to both Delia and the unconscious woman before her.
Patsy let out another strangled cry.
"Pats... Pats please wake up." Delia again tried to shake her shoulder gently.
Phyllis bit her bottom lip. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Delia shook her head. "This normally works, she's not been this bad before."
"Tasukete! Mum!"
Delia reached for a pale, clammy hand, gently trying to pry the fingers away from the sheet.
"Pats, you're in London, in Poplar." she tried to speak as evenly as she could but her voice was wobbling.
"That's right. Delia is right here and so am I." Phyllis added soothingly.
There was a noise on the landing. Phyllis looked up at Delia and the two held their breath.
"I say, is everything alright in there?" came Trixie's clear voice.
Delia looked at Phyllis pleadingly.
"I'll head her off at the pass." she muttered, before leaving the room quietly.
Patsy had stopped thrashing as Delia stroked her hand, her thumb gently working the soft patch of skin in between her thumb and forefinger.
What felt like an hour but in reality only must have been about fifteen minutes passed. Patsy had begun to breathe more evenly, no longer shouting out but muttering occasionally. Delia's back was becoming stiff from the angle she was hunched at. Phyllis had not returned and Delia was under the impression she was currently warding off some rather unwanted questions. She felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards the older nurse. Thank god for Phyllis Crane and her stiff upper lip, Delia mused, stretching her aching back as she stood up.
The floorboards creaked from her motion and Patsy stirred slightly, reaching for the hand that had momentarily left hers.
Delia reached for her again and this time positioned herself behind the taller woman.
Before very long her eyes began to droop and she slipped off into a deep slumber.
She awoke to sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating the warm clouds of breath in front of her face. It was bitterly cold. Suddenly aware she was the only person in the shared room Delia was completely awake. Where was Patsy?
Momentary panic gripped her heart, as cold as the ice forming outside.
Last night had been the worst episode of nightmares she'd ever seen. To say she was concerned was an understatement. In all her years, including professional training, she'd never come across anything like this. There had been patients on the Psychiatric ward of course who were plagued with nightmares. But they were soldiers from the war, all of them men, shouting about bombs falling, men being killed and the invisible threat of incoming gunfire. But Patsy wasn't a psych case. She was fine. She was functioning normally in her work and every day life. She was fit as a fiddle. Everything was normal apart from the nightmares. Wasn't it?
Delia shook her head to try and rid some of the brain fog. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror about the dresser. A pair of dull, cyan eyes, rimmed with dark stared hauntingly back at her. She looked as exhausted as she felt then.
Reaching into the top drawer of the dresser she dismantled an old sock, reaching inside to pull out a thin gold chain. She wrapped it around her neck, feeling the solid weight of a ring bump against her sternum. The metal was cold but she didn't feel it.
She found Patsy in the living room, sitting on the sofa, silently observing the small girl from yesterday.
Wordlessly, Delia joined her, handing over a steaming mug of tea before joining the silent vigil.
Patsy's hands wrapped around the warm mug, drawing the hot liquid into her mouth slowly and deliberately. Her eyes closed at the sensation of warmth filling her body but quickly snapped open again, not wanting to leave their task of observing the vulnerable figure in front of her.
"How is she?" Delia asked quietly.
"Alive." came the reply.
Delia studied the pale face in front of her, pronounced cheekbones in the low winter light.
"Thanks to you." she said gently. "You saved her life."
Patsy sniffed scathingly.
"If you hadn't-"
"If I hadn't!? She should never have been in that situation to begin with! Have you seen the bruises on her arms? She was clearly beaten within an inch of her life long before I got there." she shook her head.
"You weren't to know." Delia reached for her hand but it was snatched away.
"That's not the point. I should have done something sooner. I should have found her sooner. You have no idea what she must have gone through Delia."
The words stung. The conversation wasn't about the girl anymore and they both knew it. Delia closed her eyes and took a breath before standing up and walking towards the door. One hand on the door handle she spun on her heel and faced the redhead.
"I have no idea Pats, because you won't tell me."
The door slammed. Possibly harder than she had intended. Bleary eyed, Delia ran headlong into Sister Julienne.
"Nurse Busby, I'm sorry."
"It's fine Sister, my fault." Delia replied hurriedly.
"Are you alright?" The sister was eyeing her from head to toe, clearly concerned.
Delia wiped at her eyes quickly and sniffed. "Yes, sister. Quite alright. Just worried about our guest." she gestured lamely towards the door.
"Of course. Doctor Turner is dropping by shortly, we agreed a transfer to the London, just to be on the safe side, besides, we are both concerned about her other potential injuries."
Delia nodded and made to leave, but a strong, yet gentle hand heeded her progress.
"Children are more resilient than we give them credit for." Sister Julienne spoke gently.
"I hope so." Delia replied.
Sister Julienne smiled warmly. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you later?"
Delia blanched. The shock must have been evident on her face because the elder nun quickly clarified.
"Nothing bad, just to discuss your job application and how soon you can start."
"Oh yes of course." Delia smiled politely.
She retreated up the stairs and into her bedroom. It was cold up there but she suddenly wanted to seek solitude, to be alone with her thoughts. Normally she would have gone for a brisk walk, but the three feet of snow hindered that idea.
Tucking up instead with a warm blanket, she sat against the headboard of her bed, skimming but not properly reading one of Trixie's trashy romance novels.
A few hours passed.
Then came a timid knock on the door.
Delia sighed and put the book down.
"Pats, it's your room, you don't need to knock."
A sheepish redhead appeared from behind the door.
"Sorry. Old habits." she replied, face scrunched in apology.
"I do hope you've come to save me from this dreadful book. Trixie's idea of a Perfect Romance apparently - even though the dashing young soldier is having it off with the heroine's sister, she could do so much better if you ask me."
Patsy's fishhook smile appeared as she sidled towards the bed.
"I've never understood these kind of novels... I don't get the appeal personally." she said, idly turning another page.
Patsy's eyebrows raised. "I wonder why..." she chuckled.
Delia smiled as the mattress dipped and Patsy took a seat.
"I wonder if anyone's ever written a book that we'd enjoy." she questioned out loud, discarding the vibrant pink cover to the floor.
"Even if they had, I'm not sure where we'd find one." Patsy's eyes followed the book's journey to the ground.
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Patsy finally spoke again.
"I owe you an apology."
Delia sighed and reached for the redhead's hand. She squeezed back.
"We can't keep doing this Pats, arguing then making up. What happens when we live together? There'll be nowhere we can hide and stew!" Delia said in mock outrage.
Patsy laughed.
"I'm worried about you." Delia's voice was soft, calming.
The laugh faded from the taller woman's face, her muscles visibly tensed.
"I'm fine."
"No you're not." Delia stood her ground. "Last night- "
"It was a one off." Patsy's jaw was set firm, her eyes fixed on a point the other side of the room.
Delia sighed. This was going nowhere.
"So I hear Sister Julienne wants to see you later?" she nudged the smaller woman.
The conversation was over then. Delia battled for a moment, part of her wanting to bring it back up, to open everything up, unlock their feelings and figure everything out. But that required cooperation from both parties, something that clearly was not going to happen in this particular moment.
"Yes, I may have applied for a job."
"That's fantastic Deels!" Patsy threw her arms round the smaller woman, drawing her into a warm embrace.
Delia thawed for a moment, enjoying the sensation of being held by her girlfriend. She returned the hug, pouring as much love as she could into it. Patsy pulled back a fraction and captured Delia's lips in a long, lingering kiss.
"I'm so proud of you. Delia Busby. Midwife of Nonnatus House."
Delia blushed. "Well, not quite yet, I'm to be on district rounds for a little while, then clinic and finally maternity cases, but only accompanied by someone more senior."
Patsy wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Pats!" she couldn't help but crack a grin.
Patsy winced. "Maybe you're right. I don't want to be distracted from my work. And you Nurse Busby..." she kissed her nose lightly. "... are a prime example of a first class distraction."
"Cheek."
They dissolved into giggles, the air noticeably lighter than it had been in days.
Delia settled her head in the nook between Patsy's head and shoulder, Patsy lopped an arm round her back and they sat together, enjoying the proximity for a moment. Delia always marvelled at how well they just fit together. She idly drew light patterns on Patsy's stomach with her free hand. A monumental rumble interrupted her movements.
Patsy pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing.
"Looks like someone needs some lunch."
"Can't we just stay here a while longer?"
Delia shifted to look into the deep blue eyes.
"We could. But there's a lemon sponge in the kitchen that might not be around for much longer - I fear it may have disappeared entirely if we wait around."
"You have me convinced."
Patsy bounded up, a spring in her step as she walked towards the door.
"Better move those legs Busby, cake won't eat itself."
"I'm not so sure about that." Delia shot back.
Patsy laughed, her joy echoing down the corridor as she left the room.
Delia smiled again, but it felt hollow somehow.