I can only apologise for how long it has taken me to upload this chapter. Things have been a little hectic, so it has been written in little parts at a time. Although I have proof-read it, I am sorry if some sections sound a bit disjointed. I am aiming to update again shortly to make up for the lag! Thank you very much for reading.
Delia dashed forward to catch Mrs Marlow as she began to crumple, and gently lowered her to the floor.
"Patsy, go and tell Sister Julienne what has happened,"
Patsy blanched, "You want me to tell her what?"
"That we have a woman in labour,"
The redheaded nurse was trembling, and the shock of being caught in the corridor with Delia was causing her heart to thump wildly inside her chest. Her palms were damp, and she wiped them nervously on her dress.
"Patsy!"
Delia's patience was already wearing thin. She understood why Patsy was panicking, and she too felt an indescribable mixture of horror and fear swirling within her, but there was no time to dwell on that now. After all, out of the two of them, it was only Patsy who was a qualified midwife.
"Oh, for heaven's sake,"
Patsy was rooted to the spot, her face drained off all colour, and she was swaying slightly, her lips moving in a silent prayer. Delia stood up and seized her arms, pulling her over to where Mrs Marlow was lying.
"Listen to me, Pats," she said urgently, "Stay here, stay calm. I'm going to get help. Do you understand me?"
The other nurse's eyes darted around nervously, and she swallowed roughly.
"Do you understand me, Patsy?"
Finally, Delia was given a shaky nod. Satisfied, the Welsh nurse disappeared back into the main hall. She had intended to find Sister Julienne first, but seeing the state that Patsy was in meant that she instinctively searched for Trixie, their confidant, instead. She found her quickly; the blonde nurse was rifling through a stack of paperwork, unconsciously twirling a pencil between her thumb and forefinger.
"Trix,"
The trained eye of a nurse rarely misses anything, and Trixie sensed danger at once. The pencil in her hand stilled.
"What's happened?"
"Mrs Marlow has gone into labour,"
"She's premature,"
Delia gulped, "I know,"
Trixie looked about her somewhat conspiratorially before leaning in closer to Delia, her voice taking on an almost menacing tone.
"Why do I feel as though you are missing out some crucial detail, Delia?"
The brunette shook her head, her eyes pleading with Trixie to have some mercy, but the blonde nurse was having none of it.
"Where's Patsy?" she demanded.
"In the corridor with Mrs Marlow,"
"And you were in the corridor too?"
Delia blushed furiously as the realisation crept into Trixie's face.
"No. No, Delia, tell me you didn't. Tell me she didn't…"
"We thought that we were completely alone! And then she came through the door just as we were about to…"
Trixie grabbed Delia's wrist and took off across the hall, her long nails leaving deep dents in the soft skin of Delia's hand. They turned a few heads on the way out, but the room was far too crowded for many people to stop and watch the blonde midwife hauling another nurse to the door. There was enough chaos as it was.
She burst through the door, and Patsy, who was knelt on the tiles beside Mrs Marlow, jolted in surprise. Trixie did not stop for a moment, but took hold of Patsy's collar and lead her and Delia into a quiet corner.
"Tell me what happened this instant,"
"I came to drop off supplies," Delia explained, "And Pats came out to greet me,"
"Came out to greet you?" Trixie repeated in disbelief, "Give me strength! Did either of you stop to think for a moment that you were standing in the entrance hall of a very busy maternity clinic, surrounded by people?"
"It's hard sometimes!" Patsy interjected, her initial shock beginning to subside, "Everybody else displays their affection publicly. There are moments when I forget that we're the different ones,"
Trixie's scornful expression softened a little, her sympathy evident.
"I know, Patsy, but you understand better than most why this is such a difficult situation,"
"Of course we understand," Delia hissed, "But what do we do now?"
"You can't do anything at present," Trixie shrugged, "A woman has gone into premature labour, which was most likely brought on by the sheer shock of seeing you two together. As unpleasant as it is, our first priority is to care for her. I'm afraid that we'll have to deal with everything else afterwards,"
The couple exchanged sombre looks, but nodded their understanding.
"If it's any comfort," Trixie said quietly, "I don't think that you have anything to worry about. You are both outstanding nurses, and would both have a queue of people willing to vouch for your good characters. If this birth goes smoothly, I doubt that either of you will even need to lose any sleep over this at all,"
Neither Delia nor Patsy could quite determine if Trixie meant what she said, or if she was just attempting to soothe their nerves. The confidence in her voice had a calming effect though, and she gave them a warm smile.
"Now, Delia, go and take those supplies in to the hall, and then fetch us some warm water and clean towels. I'll get Sister Julienne and then we can try and move Mrs Marlow to a more…" she gestured vaguely, "… suitable area. Patsy, stay with her, and keep her calm,"
The group dispersed, and within a couple of minutes, Sister Julienne returned with Trixie. Between the three women, they managed to lift Mrs Marlow to her feet and help her into a little side room. It was not large, and there were a few crates stacked up in one corner, but it was quiet and clean. Delia soon arrived with the water and towels, and had also managed to acquire a couple of thick blankets and a pillow, which they used to put together a makeshift bed.
"Are you quite comfortable, Mrs Marlow?" Trixie asked politely.
The pregnant woman threw her a dirty look.
"Comfortable?! Have you ever given birth? Am I bloody comfortable! You wait until my husband hears about this,"
"Nurse Franklin is doing her best to help you, Mrs Marlow," Sister Julienne cut in icily.
"Some help I've had! You think that I don't know what sort of filthy practices are going on at your precious Nonnatus House! It's disgusting,"
Any colour that had returned to Patsy's cheeks in the last few minutes quickly drained away, leaving her pale and quivering. Her stomach churned, and she fought the urge to run from the room. Another contraction mercifully robbed Mrs Marlow of the ability to expand on her complaint, and Sister Julienne did not enquire about her shocking statement any further.
"I can see the head," Trixie said calmly.
The delivery then became a blur, and Patsy was oblivious to anything else happening around her, so wrapped up was she in her own crippling anxiety. It was only the piercing shrieks of a new-born infant that brought her back to her senses. She felt the warm pressure of Delia's hand on her shoulder, and she looked up, taking in the tiny child that was screaming and thrashing in Trixie's arms.
"It's a little girl, Mrs Marlow. Small, but healthy and strong,"
Sister Julienne went away to go and tell Shelagh the news, and Trixie quickly dealt with the cord, before handing the baby into her mother's arms. The afterbirth followed promptly afterwards. All in all, it was the type of birth that midwives dream about; swift and without complication. Patsy, however, was not comforted, and Delia could sense her concern, for the same apprehension was flowing in her veins.
"Trixie," she muttered, "We need to do something,"
"I know," the blonde nurse nodded, "I'm trying to think,"
Mrs Marlow was far too engrossed with her baby to notice the frantic whispering going on between the other women in the room. Before they even had time to formulate a plan however, Sister Julienne returned, poking her head around the door.
"The ambulance will be here in five minutes to take you home, Mrs Marlow,"
Trixie's face creased in disappointment. There was no time left to act. The ambulance crew, ever impressive in their efficiency, pulled up outside the community centre in less than three minutes, and Mrs Marlow and her baby girl were whisked away. The new mother sat up on her stretcher as if she were a noblewoman being escorted in a sedan chair, her chin raised proudly, and her air as arrogant as ever.
The moment that she was gone, nurses went to work, cleaning the floor and towels thoroughly, before helping to close the clinic up. The hall was vacated speedily, and it was soon empty. The nuns, Barbara, and Nurse Crane packed up their things and went too, leaving Trixie, Delia and Patsy alone.
"So then," Patsy mumbled, sat uneasily on one of the comically tiny children's chairs in the play area, "What do we do now?"
Delia took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly, looking to Trixie for some words of wisdom, but the other woman just shrugged weakly.
"We wait,"