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The unwelcome shriek of the alarm clock broke the peace of slumber, and Trixie responded by seizing it and hurling it across the room. It hit the wall with a thud and dropped to the floor, the unmistakable crack of broken glass sounding as the front shattered on impact.
"Trixie," Patsy mumbled.
"Mmph,"
"I think we're going to need a new alarm clock,"
The blonde nurse gave a snort of derision.
"Like hell we are,"
Patsy gave a laugh as she threw the covers off herself and swept the fragments up. When every little shard was safely removed, she walked over to Trixie's bed and whipped away her duvet.
"Get up," she said, holding the bedding just out reach of Trixie's flailing hands, "It's clinic today, and Nurse Crane will skin us alive if we're late again,"
"I'll take being skinned alive if it buys me five more minutes in bed, thanks," Trixie retorted.
Despite her protests, Trixie was down in the kitchen on time with everybody else, and sat moodily eating her breakfast at the end of the table. She was not the only resident of Nonnatus House to look out of sorts either. Barbara almost nodded off into her food, and Sister Mary Cynthia's eyelids were beginning to droop. Patsy was actually shocked to see just how exhausted her colleagues seemed.
"My, my, everybody does seem quiet this morning!"
Nurse Crane set her rolodex down with a clunk, which startled the sleepy Barbara to such an extent that she shoved her elbow down into her baked beans. Trixie jolted awake, and Cynthia blinked furiously, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes.
"What on earth is the matter?"
Sister Julienne glanced around at the table, "Can anybody explain?"
"I guess that we've all been busy recently," Trixie shrugged, stifling a yawn, "What with Patsy being off duty, and seemingly more patients and expectant mothers than ever to attend to before calling us out left right and centre,"
"It's true," Sister Winifred piped up, "We've been having far more callouts than normal. Our services are stretched to a maximum,"
"I'm returning to work today," Patsy assured her.
"And I can help with mundane tasks about the house," Delia added, "I'm not allowed back onto the ward for another two days, so I'm all yours until then,"
"Thank you, Nurse Busby, that would be very much appreciated,"
The breakfast table was cleared and those working at the clinic left for work.
Outside of the community centre, the queue of mothers-to-be extended far down the road, and tiny toddlers and children were running round and round the mass of people. When the doors were opened and everybody streamed inside, the atmosphere quickly became stifling. The Bunsen burners being used to boil urine added to the disgusting stench in the hall, and there was scarcely enough room for the nurses to move.
"This is the worst I've ever seen it," Trixie complained, "I can't breathe,"
"There are expectant mothers with nowhere to sit down," Shelagh noted, "And they're beginning to make a scene,"
She was right. One woman, slightly shorter than the rest, but with an expression filled with such force that it hardly mattered, came marching over, hands placed firmly on hips. Her lower jaw jutted out as she angrily surveyed the midwives.
"What do you call this then?" she demanded, "I've been here almost a whole bloody hour and no one has even got my name down. It's disgraceful. I'm due in just over three weeks; I should be front of the queue!"
Trixie opened her mouth, ready to retaliate, but Patsy interrupted her. She knew exactly what the blonde firecracker was like; Trixie did not take prisoners.
"I am very sorry for the delay, Mrs...?"
"Marlow. It's Mrs Marlow,"
"We are trying to get through our patients as quickly as we can, Mrs Marlow, and I am certain that we can arrange for a midwife to see you just as soon as possible,"
"Not like that will be good enough for you," Trixie grumbled under her breath.
"Here, look," Patsy said, raising her voice to drown out Trixie's venomous whispers, "Nurse Gilbert is available, I'm sure she'd be happy to perform your examination,"
"I wouldn't bet on it," Trixie sneered, sauntering off again.
Patsy gave a sigh of frustration and marched off to her own cubicle. Her uniform was sticking to her with sweat, and the collar felt uncomfortably tight. She tugged at it, and fanned herself with her clipboard, hoping that it would provide just a little relief from the sweltering conditions. The heat intensified the smell, which was a revolting mixture of perspiration, faeces, urine, and various other bodily fluids, and she felt sick and very unwell.
Excusing herself for a moment, she hurried to the sinks and splashed cold water onto her face. It cooled her skin and helped her to feel a little cleaner.
"Nurse Mount,"
Shelagh's Scottish lilt sent Patsy springing to attention and she whirled around, water dripping from her chin and nose.
"Yes… hello,"
The corners of Shelagh's mouth twitched, indicating amusement, but she was far too professional to openly show it.
"We've run out of various supplies: cotton buds, tongue depressors and the like. Would you be able to use the telephone to call Nonnatus House and ask for somebody to bring some more stock? I've got the list here,"
Shelagh handed over a crumpled piece of paper with a hurriedly scribbled set of supplies written on it. Patsy squinted at the spidery lettering.
"I can't make out half of this, Mrs Turner,"
There was a shout from behind them as another frustrated expectant mother went on the rampage. Shelagh made to hurry away to try and restore peace.
"I'm sure that you'll make it out," she called.
The telephone was out in the corridor, and some thoughtful person had wedged the front door open, which had allowed a little fresh air to enter the building. It was quieter too, and Patsy dialled the numbers jubilantly, delighted to be away from the pandemonium within.
"Nonnatus House, nurse speaking,"
Patsy bit her lip, taking her time to rejoice in the sound of Delia's voice at the other end of the line. Even now, after all of this time, she felt a distinct fluttering in her stomach on just hearing her talk.
"Hello?"
"Delia,"
"Pats?"
"Hello, darling,"
"Tell me, what have I done to deserve a midday call from you?"
The redhead nurse could virtually hear Delia smirking into the handset.
"Are you pleased to hear from me then?"
"Always,"
"I am glad," she chuckled, "But I am also sorry, the real reason for me calling is actually to ask for more supplies,"
"How disappointing. Not a personal call then?" Delia teased.
"Afraid not. I've got a list here, have you got a pencil and paper handy? I need all of these things brought down to the clinic immediately. We are absolutely overrun, and we're swiftly running out of… well, everything really!"
Patsy read the list out, pausing occasionally to decipher the odd illegible word, and Delia obediently copied it all out.
"Have you got all of that?"
"Yes, I have. I'll get it all together and be on my way,"
"Thank you, Deels. You really are a life saver,"
There was a click, and the line went dead. Weighing the handset in her hand, Patsy geared herself up to return to the hall. The moment that she opened the door, it was like being hit with a huge, humid cloud. She almost choked, and cupped a hand over her nose and mouth to protect herself from the smell.
The best way to distract herself from the miasma was to throw herself into the work, and so she got busy at once. All the while that she was attending to various mothers-to-be, she could hear Mrs Marlow shouting abuse at Barbara. Some of it was very unfair, but other quotes coming from the fiery woman were deeply entertaining, and Patsy had to fight rising sniggers. It got even funnier when she could hear Barbara weakly trying to reason with her; it was comedy gold.
"Have you heard the commotion going on down there?" Trixie asked, sticking her head around the curtain.
Patsy nodded, "You'd have to be deaf in both ears and standing in the next street not to hear it,"
"Poor Babs," Trixie giggled, not looking in the least bit sorry at all, "Should I go down and rescue her?"
"Don't you dare!" Patsy warned her, "I know what you're like. Leave it to Nurse Crane, or Shelagh,"
No sooner had she said it, she heard Nurse Crane's voice ring out across the room, finally silencing Mrs Marlow.
"I've just got to go and see this,"
Trixie ran off to go and make the most of the spectacle on offer. Patsy was determined not to be anywhere near it, and so wandered back out into the corridor to see if Delia had arrived. Even as she stepped out of the hall, Delia came in through the front entrance, arms laden with boxes.
"Are you sure you've got enough boxes there, Nurse Busby?"
Delia dumped them down onto the floor and strolled towards her girlfriend.
"Oh, do shut up, Patience,"
"Make me,"
"Ooh, maybe I will…"
Delia wrapped her arms around Patsy's neck and pulled her down towards her, their lips mere millimetres apart. Her sweet perfume enveloped Patsy, and she was captivated by the way her blue eyes twinkled as she came ever closer.
"You are so beautiful, Delia,"
The brunette was just about to reply when the door behind them was flung open, slamming against the wall, leaving a sizeable dent in the plaster. Mrs Marlow stormed out, arms in the air and ranting wildly. Patsy and Delia sprang apart, but the pregnant woman ground to a halt, her mouth moving, yet no words coming out. She pointed at them, jabbing a finger at the space where they had just been about to kiss, her eyes wide and unblinking. The door swung shut with a bang behind her.
"Mrs Marlow, it's not what it looks like…"
"You… you…"
"Mrs Marlow, I…"
The mother-to-be continued to violently gesticulate, when she suddenly grabbed her stomach and hunched over, giving a loud wail. There was a splash as a clear fluid splattered to the tiles beneath her.