Not being able to sleep after a nightshift was a lot easier than insomnia following a normal shift. It meant Patsy could busy herself with productive tasks rather than hiding from others by cleaning the kitchen.
After managing to grab a grand total of twenty minutes, she decided to help Sister Winifred make lunch instead. The afternoon she spent toasting her feet by the fire, reading. The dim light combined with stuffy warmth made her eyelids heavy and she drifted off.
The creak of the heavy door of Nonnatus House opening awoke her some time later. She groaned and stretched her aching neck. It wasn't the ideal sleeping position she'd fallen into but she had managed to sleep. Turning to look at the clock she found it to be past dinner time. That meant the noise must be Delia and the others coming back from clinic.
She jumped to her feet, eager to see Delia before bed. They'd scarcely managed time alone together in the past few weeks, shift patterns colliding and Patsy generally being in a standoffish mood. All she wanted right now though was to get under the covers and have a jolly good cwtch.
By the time she reached the entrance hall it was empty apart from Valerie. Patsy attempted to slow down her eagerness in order to great her colleague.
"Hello. Gosh, you're back late - clinic a busy one today?" she asked politely.
"Very." Val's face looked pale and drawn. Something was wrong.
"What happened?" she asked, the bounce gone from her voice.
Val shook her head. "There was an accident. A little boy got run over."
"Oh lord." Patsy exclaimed. "Is he alright?"
"The ambulance took him - Doctor Turner is at the hospital now. He's dropping by soon to give us an update."
Patsy nodded slowly. Her eyes briefly darting up the stairs.
Val picked up on the subtle movement.
"She's alright, just tired."
Patsy schooled her features into what she hoped was a casual confused look but it wasn't fooling anyone.
"I'll let you know when Dr Turner arrives." she smiled tiredly and made her way towards the kitchen.
Patsy stood for a brief moment before darting up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Skidding to a halt outside their bedroom she knocked before remembering she didn't have to.
"Come in." came a very small voice from inside.
She opened the door gingerly.
Delia was curled up on her bed, knees to her chest, still in full uniform. She looked very small.
"Oh Delia." Patsy breathed.
The bed sagged as she sank down next to the younger woman. Delia grimaced and turned over with a grunt, lying on her back now, her eyes closed.
Patsy leant forward and pressed her lips lightly to Delia's forehead.
"Valerie told me what happened." she whispered.
Delia's eyes shot open.
"What!?"
Patsy flinched away, looking surprised at the outburst.
"About the boy getting run over?" she questioned.
"Oh." Delia closed her eyes again.
Patsy reached out and took Delia's hand.
"What's going on?" she squeezed gently.
Delia lay in silence for a moment, her chest rising and falling with every breath.
"Nothing." she said finally, her eyes opening again and a tight smile appearing on her face.
Patsy cocked an eyebrow.
"Fibber."
Delia sighed. "It's just... I've been feeling utterly dreadful all day, Pats."
Patsy's eyes softened at that. On closer inspection Delia really did not look well. Her skin was very pale. Patsy raised the back of her hand and placed it on the smaller woman's forehead.
"I'm not ill." Delia murmured, taking her hand away.
"What's wrong then?" Patsy asked gently.
"You know... cramps." Delia gestured at her tummy vaguely.
Patsy sighed. "Well, let's get you out of this uncomfortable uniform and into some cozy pyjamas. I'll go make you a hot water bottle and we can have a cwtch before bed."
Delia blinked something that looked suspiciously like tears away from her eyes.
"Thank you."
Patsy smiled and made to leave.
"Pats..."
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Delia."
The voice of Dr Turner drifted down the hall as Patsy was filling Delia's hot water bottle. She screwed on the lid tightly and made her way to the front hall. A small throng of midwives and nuns were gathering, waiting to hear the news from the hospital regarding the little boy.
"He's stable." Doctor Turner was speaking slowly and measured. "But it's pretty serious. Both his legs are badly broken and he'll be in casts for the next few months. He also suffered some bad abrasions to his back which will need multiple dressing changes daily. He's going to be discharged in a few days time but he'll need a district nurse to help with the dressings after he's home."
"I can do it." Patsy volunteered immediately.
Dr Turner nodded. "I think that's a good idea. His father is quite a handful - very involved, wants to have a say in everything so I'm sure your no-nonsense manner will be very welcome Nurse Mount."
"Of course."
"Right. Doctor Turner replaced his hat and opened his suitcase. "Where is Nurse Busby?"
"I think she went upstairs as soon as we got back." said Lucille.
"She's in bed. Not feeling too well." explained Patsy quickly.
Doctor Turner nodded. "Probably the best thing for her right now. Make sure she eats and drinks something." he reached into his suitcase and pulled out two packets of tablets. "and make sure to give her these."
Patsy nodded and took them from him.
"Right, I'll see everyone tomorrow."
"Thank you Doctor, for updating us on his condition." said Valerie.
After the heavy door closed she turned to Patsy. "I'll go get a snack sorted for Delia and bring it up in a bit."
"Oh you don't have to I can-" Patsy began to interject.
"It's fine. I'm hungry anyway." Val smiled warmly. "And I bet Lucille could do with something?"
"Oh I wouldn't say no. I'm famished." replied the small midwife.
The matter settled, Patsy trudged up the stairs. She stole a glance at the tablets. One was a mid strength pain killer. Possibly for her cramps? Delia had always had painful periods but she'd always seemed to have managed. It just usually involved a day tucked up in bed and she was right as rain the next morning.
And the other... Sominex. That was confusing. Why would the Doctor be prescribing Delia an antihistamine? Especially one known to have undesirable side effects of drowsiness. Unless. The dark circles under her eyes. Was she not sleeping either?
She knocked gently on the door. "Are you decent?"
"Yes."
She entered the room to find Delia wrapped in a fluffy blue dressing gown.
"Did I hear Doctor Turner?" she asked, hovering slightly on the side of her bed.
"Yes." Patsy closed the door and took a seat opposite Delia on her own bed. "He had some news about the boy."
She updated Delia on the young lad's condition and the Welshwoman's face visibly relaxed as she learned he was going to be alright.
"I said I'd go and see him on district." Patsy finished.
"Thank goodness he's okay. Last I saw him he was unconscious and barely breathing." Delia lay down and spoke to the ceiling, wincing slightly.
Patsy looked down at the pills in her hand. "Doctor Turner also told me to give you these." she said quietly, extending her arm.
Delia took the pills from Patsy's outstretched hand and smiled grimly. "Thanks."
She deposited them into the drawer of the nightstand and resumed her previous position on her back staring at the ceiling. She grunted in pain, her face screwing up and put a hand to her lower stomach but didn't say anything.
Obviously the subject was not up for discussion tonight thought Patsy. She felt mildly annoyed, Delia usually told her when something was up. But then again she'd feel like a hypocrite for asking if something was wrong so she bit her tongue.
Just then there was a knock on the door. "It's me, Val - I've bought some food."
Patsy opened the door to let the brunette in. She deposited a tray full of scones on the end of Patsy's bed.
"There's enough there for both of you but I'm afraid they're a little stale we cooked them a few days back" she gestured to Lucille who was hovering behind her "and amazingly we hid them out of Sister Monica Joan's sight for long enough - I know she needs her cataract surgery, poor thing, but the amount of missing cakes has gone down considerably in the last couple of months!"
Delia giggled a little at that, a bit of colour returning to her cheeks. "Thanks Valerie."
Val winked. "You're welcome. Come on Lucille, let's leave them to it. They both look as exhausted as I feel."
With that they were alone again, but for the addition of some rather nice scones, a portion of butter and even a generous helping of strawberry jam.
The two women tucked into their late night feast in silence. It was strangely peaceful sitting with Delia on their bed eating a little picnic. If it wasn't for the sadness that surrounded the day (and the fact it was almost 10pm) it could almost be considered something not too dissimilar to a date.
Eventually Delia polished off the last of the scones, licking the remnants of jam and crumbs from her lips before settling back into bed. Patsy stowed away the breakfast tray and got changed into her pyjamas.
She turned to face Delia, her hands on her hips and sighed. Delia's face was contorted in pain, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Making her way over to their bedside table she reached inside and pulled out the painkillers, popping two into her hand and offering them to Delia.
"Take some."
Delia stared for a moment at the pills nestled in Patsy's palm. Eventually it seemed, she reached a decision and sat up reluctantly, reaching for a glass of water.
She popped the pills into her mouth and swallowed hard.
"Lie down on your front." Patsy instructed gently.
Delia lay stretched out, groaning into the pillow as her sore muscles complained.
Patsy settled beside her and gently lifted her pyjama top up to expose her lower back. She blew on her hands and rubbed them together to ensure they were warm before laying her fingers flat and gently kneading Delia's lower back muscles.
Delia groaned into the pillow again as the tightness began to subside. Patsy kept up the gentle circle motions before placing a light kiss on the smaller woman's back and replacing her pyjamas.
"Turn over." she whispered softly.
Delia reversed her position, her hair tousled and face slightly flushed from being in a pillow for the past few minutes. Patsy repeated the motions on Delia's lower abdomen. Round and round, applying gentle pressure and easing away the tightness.
Slowly but surely the brunette began to relax. Her eyes became heavy and started to droop. Then suddenly she hissed, a hand flying to her forehead.
Patsy stopped and looked up in concern. Delia took a few deep breaths and kneaded her temples.
"Headache?"
A nod.
"Do you want me to do your head too?"
Another nod.
Using a lot less pressure and just her fingertips, Patsy gently massaged Delia's forehead. Her eyes were now completely shut and her breathing was deep and steady. Patsy placed a light kiss on the brunette's cheek and shifted her onto her side.
She enjoyed being the big spoon. It felt like she was protecting Delia, providing her with some armour. The painkillers had clearly begun to set in and Delia drifted off happily encased in Patsy's arms.
Patsy rarely used Welsh words, her accent was never the best and she preferred to hear them from Delia anyway. But "cwtch" was the one word she adored the most. Just the concept of a safe space. Something she'd been so lacking in her childhood and now she almost took for granted. Her eyes began to feel heavy. Delia's warmth pressed against her was soothing, it truly did feel safe. No matter what the night was going to bring she always knew she'd wake up and be safe.
Andrew Thomas lived in one of the more respectable parts of Poplar. A high rise building, recently renovated but as soulless as a ghost town. Patsy had reached the fourth floor and was already out of breath. How they'd managed to cart the poor young boy up all these stairs with two broken legs was quite beyond her. One thing was for certain though, he wouldn't be seeing the outside any time soon.
Finally she reached the eighth floor, panting and winded. Taking a moment to catch her breath she gazed out of the window on the landing. It was almost worth the climb just to see the view. Almost. At least her fitness would improve if she were to be seeing Andrew every day for the next week. And she doubted Delia would have many words of complaint at the sight of her muscular calves.
She knocked on the door. A fresh paint smell filled her nostrils as it opened to reveal a thin, whily woman with sticks for legs.
"Nurse Mount. I'm here to see Andrew." she smiled warmly.
The thin woman returned the smile uneasily but did not stand aside.
"You must be Mrs Thomas." she extended a hand.
"It's Teresa." The thin woman took the offered hand and shook it limply.
Patsy's eyes narrowed suspiciously, the heckles on the back of her neck standing on end. Something didn't feel right. Teresa was very jumpy, looking over Patsy's shoulder as if expecting her to be followed by a battalion of other working professionals. Perhaps the woman was just nervous. After all her son had been involved in a terrible accident, no doubt she'd had more than her fair share of people in uniform the past week - it was enough to make anyone feel on edge.
"Is Andrew in his bedroom?" Patsy asked pointedly.
That seemed to do the trick. Teresa's eyes snapped back and she smiled quickly as if nothing was amiss. "Of course, this way Nurse."
Teresa led Patsy into a dark room, the curtains pulled tightly shut. She flicked on a bedside lamp to reveal a sparse space, freshly painted green walls and no toys to be seen. It felt more like a spare room than an eight year old boy's bedroom. Andrew was laid out fast asleep on his bed, both legs stiff with plaster that went over his knees. They plaster was surprisingly sparse for such a large potential surface area for drawing. Patsy was accustomed to seeing lads of Andrew's age with plaster casts covered in pictures and signatures of classmates, it was after all a way to make a grim situation rather exciting. A lot of lads wore their casts like prize war wounds. Perhaps his friends hand't managed to visit yet, he was after all, still very poorly. The bedspread was plain too. Everything was very clean, the entire flat seemed very modern (as was standard for these new tenement buildings). But there was just no soul to it. Nothing that revealed any personality of its occupants. As Patsy followed Teresa inside a cry came from across the other side of the room. The spindly woman rushed over towards the source of the noise, a cowering young girl in a pretty pink dress.
"It's alright love, it's just the nurse." Teresa cooed gently, stroking the girl's blonde hair. "She's come to see Andrew."
The little girl stared wide eyed at Patsy as if she'd never seen a nurse before. A very worn teddy bear with a missing eye that was clutched to the girl's chest as if her life depended on it.
"Hello I didn't see you there! You must be amazing at hide and seek." Patsy remarked kindly. "My name is Patsy, what's your name?" she knelt down to the girl's eye level.
Instantly the girl hid behind her mother. It wasn't uncommon for children to take cover behind their parents in the presence of an authority figure - it was embarrassing to be addressed by an adult in a uniform. But Patsy got the feeling the girl wasn't hiding from embarrassment. Rather like her mother her movements were jittery, her eyes darting. She was scared of something.
"Tilly, don't be rude, tell Nurse Patsy your name." gently coaxed her mother.
Tilly peered out nervously. "I'm Matilda."
Patsy smiled. "What a lovely name."
Tilly's mouth twitched into a half smile as she came to the conclusion that Patsy wasn't an immediate threat.
"Now, why don't you go play in the other room while we take care of your brother?"
Tilly looked at her mother who nodded. When the small girl had left the room, Patsy turned to Mrs Thomas.
"How has he been getting on?"
"As good as can be expected." she sniffed.
"I'm very sorry, it must have come as quite a shock to the family." Patsy sympathised.
Mrs Thomas's hands crossed firmly against her chest. "Nothing we can't handle. He's a fighter is our Andrew." she said proudly.
After a bit of gentle coaxing, Andrew was awake. Although pale, he seemed to be well, his blood pressure and heart rate normal. It took some effort but between the two of them they managed to get him onto his side and Patsy set about changing the dressings on his back.
Wetting a cotton ball with antiseptic, Patsy dabbed gently on one of the deeper scrapes. She expected the boy to flinch or show signs of discomfort but he lay stalwart and still.
"You're doing very well Andrew." Patsy encouraged. She turned to Mrs Thomas. "Could you fetch me a bowl of warm water please? It might help to bathe some of these deeper cuts."
Mrs Thomas bustled from the room.
Alone with the young boy Patsy raised his top up a little further to reach his shoulders. It was all she could do not to gasp at the sight that met her eyes. Several cigarette burns littered Andrew's shoulders. Some old some newer and barely healed. There was no doubt in her mind of their origin though. Gulping down a lump that had formed in her throat she tried her best to keep her voice steady.
"Andrew, what happened to your back?"
"Accident." he replied.
Patsy moved to the other side of the bed so she was now looking him in the eye.
"I know you were in an accident and that's how your back got scraped, but what about your shoulders?" she asked gently.
He shrugged.
"You won't get in trouble."
His eyes were round like a deer caught in the headlamps.
"Accident."
Just then the front door to the flat opened and Andrew flinched away looking terrified.
"Teresa!? Goddamnit woman where are you?" came a loud Welsh bark.
The noise grated on Patsy's eardrums. She was so unused to the Welsh accent utilised in such a gruff manner. Patsy straightened up and opened the door into the hallway. The man noticed her immediately.
"Oh Nurse, sorry." Mr Thomas tipped his cap in apology. "It's been a helluva day and I just need me cuppa." his smile was smarmy, made to please.
Patsy returned the smile, tight lipped.
"Coming Gareth! Sorry, I forgot to tell you Nurse was dropping by to see to Andrew." called Mrs Thomas.
"Why, what's wrong happened?" Mr Thomas looked panicked.
"Nothing's wrong Mr Thomas!" Patsy assured hurriedly. "I'm just here to change his dressings."
"Oh. Right." Mr Thomas wiped a snotty nose on his sleeve. "I swear if anything else happens to him there'll be hell to pay. I've already been roun' to that there garage giving them a piece of me mind. Lucky they didn't catch my fists so they were." he gritted his teeth and cracked his knuckles.
"Gareth!" Mrs Thomas chastised as she rounded the corner with a tray of tea.
"You know that place is run by a bunch of flaming queers, Nurse." he spat. "First it was that Amos bloke and now that Robinson fella. It ain't right, it ain't natural."
"Gareth, why don't you sit down and have a cuppa, leave the nurse to her job." Mrs Thomas was trying desperately to diffuse the tension.
Pats's heart was thudding so loudly in her ears she could barely hear her. The mention of Tony Amos was bringing back several unpleasant memories.
"Actually, I'm all finished here and should be going." Patsy managed to get the short sentence out.
"Oh of course Nurse, sorry we don't mean to have kept you."
"It's quite alright." Patsy smiled tight lipped. "Andrew will need regular dressing changes for a week however as I'm sure the doctor explained."
Mrs Thomas nodded. Mr Thomas was now buried in the paper, ignoring his wife and their conversation.
Bidding the Thomas family farewell Patsy exited their flat and began descending the stairs back to the ground. It surely wasn't the altitude but she felt very lightheaded and short of breath. She had long ago locked the memories of Mr Amos in a box. A box she never intended on opening ever again quite frankly. She had told Delia about the whole situation but after that refused to talk about it ever again. News had spread that Tony Amos was moving out of Poplar and that someone had taken over his business. Patsy had no idea if there was an ounce of truth in what Mr Thomas was saying but the blatant close-mindedness of his opinion still stung.
Later that evening Patsy lay in her bed reading the property section of the newspaper, waiting for Delia to return from the bathroom. She was looking at flats. They had put all flat hunting on hold during the unsavoury wether conditions. But now they had passed, Patsy was perusing the ads but with little interest. Her mind was still mulling over the situation with Mr Thomas. It was easy to forget, especially surrounded in a bubble of supporting, likeminded people, that homophobia was all to real in the world. Just a tiny slip up could cost her and Delia their jobs and livelihoods. Was she being too brazen recently in her affections? Perhaps. Although she had claimed when she arrived back in England there would be no more hiding, the reality of the situation was proving much harder than a promise she'd made to herself. Keeping secrets, building walls - they were part of her nature, part of a personality that had been build over years of hardship. Such walls were not likely to crumble with a single promise of change. She was promising something she couldn't give.
"Patsy?"
She snapped out of her thoughts. Delia had returned and was looking magnificent. Her skin was glowing with the heat of a recent bath, hair wet and tousled and cocooned in a fluffy towel.
Patsy smiled and placed the paper down on the nightstand before shifting over and patting a space on the single bed. Delia removed her towel, her hair falling over her shoulders and took the offered spot. She propped herself up so the two women sat with their backs against the headboard. Patsy's head rested on Delia's shoulder as she took a long drawn out sigh.
She wanted to tell Delia about today but she didn't have the right words. It almost felt like sticky toffee was preventing her jaw from opening and forming coherent words. So she sat in silence, drawing circles on Delia's right hand with her thumb.
"Pats... I need to tell you something."
"What is it?" immediate anxiety flooded through Patsy and her heart began to race.
She took a steadying breath, what was that all about? Why were her fight or flight responses so on edge at the moment. It was just a casual conversation and she felt like she'd just run up the entire eight floors to the Thomas family flat.
"The other week, at clinic." Delia continued, staring at a spot on the opposite wall.
Patsy's eyes narrowed. This was a technique she favoured when partaking in a conversation something she'd rather not be part of. She squeezed Delia's hand to offer some comfort.
"I... I fainted."
Patsy turned their bodies, forcing Delia to look at her.
"You fainted?" she repeated, eyebrows knitting together in worry.
Delia nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I didn't want to worry you."
Patsy shook her head and pulled Delia in for an embrace. "Oh Deels."
"I've not been sleeping well and, it all got a bit too much I think. That's why Doctor Turner prescribed me the sleeping pills."
Patsy pulled back from the hug and used her thumbs to wipe a few stray tears leaking from Delia's eyes. "Have they helped?"
Delia nodded.
"What about the painkillers?"
Delia bit her lip. "They were for my headaches."
"You're headaches are back?" Patsy was alarmed.
"Not really, I mean, I think it was an isolated incident last week. But I've been having them for a few months."
Suddenly the penny dropped.
"This is all my fault Delia." Patsy choked. "I've been so selfish, you've not been sleeping because of my nightmares and it's made you ill."
"Patsy, no." Delia said firmly. "It's not your fault."
Patsy smiled sadly and shook her head. "It is though. If I wasn't waking at silly hours in the morning this wouldn't be happening."
"We don't know that." Delia exclaimed fairly. "It's been a miricle I've not been getting headaches for the past few years."
"Don't try and justify it." Patsy put her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry I've been so selfish. I never thought for a moment what impact this must be having on your health."
"Patsy, stop." Delia tried to console the distraught woman.
"You don't deserve this." she mumbled. "You're too kind to deserve this."
Delia sighed, her frustration beginning to build. "For goodness sake Patsy, I care about you. I know what I signed up for - for better or for worse right? in sickness and in health?"
Patsy shook her head. Poor Delia was trying her best to help. Patsy knew she should feel so lucky to have someone that patient as a partner. She would have abandoned herself years ago she thought wryly. Was she even deserving of that kind of love? She tried desperately to search for the logical part of her that would tell her she was, but the more overwhelming insecure part was busy shouting a resounding no. After all she was damaged goods, not only because she was queer but because of her past too. She was so far from normal it was amazing she was still managing to function as a proper adult. It wasn't fair on Delia.
"I can't - I'm sorry."
She left the room and made her way downstairs. At least sleeping on the sofa wouldn't disturb the brunette. It would also give her time to gather her thoughts together.