I would just like to say a huge thank you to everybody who has kept up with this story so far. I cannot express how much I appreciate all of the reviews and support, and I am very open to hearing any suggestions as well. I hope that you continue to enjoy reading this work, and I promise that the mood will eventually lighten up! It has been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for some of the residents of Nonnatus House in the past few chapters, but they say that good things come to those who wait.
Anyway, back to the story!
Rain lashed ferociously against the windows of Nonnatus House. The unseasonably warm weather of the past few weeks had come to an end, and icy winds and merciless torrents of water had been a harsh reminder to the residents of Poplar that the days of blue skies and mild evenings were not to last.
Patsy was sat on the edge of her bed, cardboard box in hand, staring morosely at its contents. A picture of Delia, which wonderfully captured her charm and beauty in its monochrome perfection, lay on top. Reaching out, Patsy ran her fingertips along the photographs shiny surface, as if her contact with this version of Delia, forever frozen in ink and paper, would somehow repair the broken bond between her and the real Delia.
A knock on the door brought her back to her senses, and she quickly stowed the box back beneath the bed.
"Come in,"
Barbara opened the door, giving Patsy her usual cheerful but naïve smile. It was clear to see that she had not recognised any tension or hostility between any of the other housemates, and so was going about her business as she always did.
"Trixie's making Bournvita. Do you want to come down and join us for some?"
The truthful answer was no. Patsy was not sure that she could bear to see Trixie. Although she knew that her argument with Delia was not technically Trixie's fault, she still blamed her. If it had not been for Trixie's interference, her deepest secret would still be safely under wraps.
"Barbara I'm not…"
"Oh, do go on, Patsy! We even managed to salvage some cake from Sister Monica Joan's assault on the kitchen too. Besides, you don't want to be sat up here alone with that racket outside,"
Sighing, Patsy pulled herself to her feet.
"Fine, you've convinced me!" she said, even allowing the other midwife a small grin, unable to stay angry at somebody so ceaselessly optimistic, "Who's on call tonight anyway?"
"Well, Sister Mary Cynthia just got called out with Sister Winifred to a birth on the Isle of Dogs, and Nurse Crane is at a premature birth with Sister Julienne, so I'm next up,"
Patsy could not help but shiver at the idea of going out in this weather, and Barbara noticed it.
"I know! The weather is simply frightful. Honestly, I hope that nobody else goes into labour until the storm has blown right over because the last thing I want to do is go out in that,"
She pointed at the window just as a particularly strong gust of wind hurled itself against the glass, making the panes shake violently in their frames.
They made it down into the living room just as Trixie brought in their mugs. She set them down on the table before flopping into an armchair opposite Patsy, who determinedly avoided making eye contact with her. Barbara looked back and forth from each of them, wondering had brought on the silence. She had noticed the hushed whispers and pointed stares between her friends in the last week, but had put it out of her mind, not wanting to intrude into their personal affairs.
Before Barbara had the opportunity to break the uncomfortable quiet with some polite conversation, the front door bell sounded.
"I'll get it!"
Barbara leapt up and hurried off, leaving Trixie and Patsy alone. Trixie's lips were tightly pursed, her head resting in her palm, and she had her sights fixed firmly on Patsy.
"Do you want to tell me why you've been ignoring me for the past few days, Nurse Mount?"
Patsy rolled her eyes, her irritation at Trixie's use of her formal title incensing her even further.
"Oh, don't pretend that you don't know exactly what's going,"
"I'm not pretending. A few days ago you didn't seem to have a problem with me knowing about you and Delia, but all of a sudden, you've gotten very cagey indeed,"
"Maybe I'm just tired of you prying into my private life,"
Trixie flew to her feet, ready to retaliate, but Barbara walked back in, followed by a slightly bedraggled looking Delia. There was a moment of confusion, as Delia and Barbara tried to comprehend the scene, and Patsy and Trixie tried to act as though nothing was the matter.
"Look who I found at the door!"
Patsy felt briefly sorry for Barbara, who was tirelessly trying to keep spirits raised, but she forgot that pity when Delia stepped further into the room. Her shoulders and hair were soaked from the rain, and a part of Patsy ached to run to her and encompass her in her arms until she was warm and dry again.
"The bus was delayed back from the London," Delia said, "The winds have blown down fences, trees… anything really. The streets are chaotic,"
"I don't doubt it," Trixie murmured, sitting back down, "This is the worst storm I've seen in a long time,"
The shrill noise of the telephone echoed down the hallway, and Barbara rushed off again to answer it. Delia sat down at the far end of the sofa, deliberately putting herself as far away from Patsy as she could. Even Trixie, who did not yet know of their fight, could see that there was friction between them. However, her earlier clash with Patsy had clouded her judgement, and her mouth was now working independently from her head.
"Trouble in paradise?"
On any other day, Trixie would never have dared to raise the sensitive subject of anybody's relationship right in front of them… least of all Patsy and Delia's. But, she had had a ridiculously long day of work, and the appalling weather was doing nothing to help ease her mood.
Delia's head snapped up.
"What did you say?"
"I said…"
"We heard what you said!"
Patsy was shouting before had she even realised it. Delia was perched on the lip of the sofa, hands clenching the material, jaw grinding furiously, ready to throw herself into battle. Trixie had a sickening smile plastered onto her face, and her nails, filed into talons, rapped impatiently on the armrest.
"Don't tell me that you haven't told her, Patsy,"
"Told me what?!"
Both women had their eyes on Patsy, waiting for an explanation. The gale outside howled, and Patsy could not help but wish that she was out there too, being battered by the elements, rather than being stuck inside here. Yet again, she was saved from speaking by Barbara's return.
"Mrs Chesterton has just gone into labour, and judging by what her husband said, contractions are four minutes apart, so I need to leave right away, Patsy, you're next on call,"
There was a moment where Barbara hung back, and looked around, as if she wanted to ask what was happening, or to offer some help, but something stopped her. She merely nodded her farewell, and a couple of minutes later, the front door slammed shut behind her.
"What haven't you told me?"
Delia's voice was barbed and full of anger, but Patsy knew that she was just trying to hide her dread and hurt.
"She hasn't told you that I know," Trixie answered plainly.
And then the telephone rang.