Uneventful mornings: that’s what they seemed to everyone at Nonnatus. Delia rested between her eyelids in the drowsy moments of fantasy between asleep and awake. Sometimes Patsy would look over at Trixie, watching her sleeping chest rise and fall, wishing her problems were as acceptably complicated. Though, were they problems at all? Patsy wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to think about it anymore.
Sleeping was impossible. They were going to sign a rental agreement. Instead of creeping into her thoughts, Delia would be able to sleep in her arms. They’d be able to share meals, flowers, each other. Patsy was giddy. She hoped Delia was in bed thinking about her too. As if when they stared into the cracks of their ceilings the other’s smiling face would find them.
The chill of fall had settled in. Patsy rolled onto her side, gazing at the bottles on Trixie’s dresser. She rolled down her blankets to get up and sneak a drink. It wasn’t as though she wanted to silence the coming day—just that she was nervous.
“There are some brandy balloons in the top drawer.” Trixie mumbled, half asleep. Patsy had tried to be quiet, but apparently wasn’t as successful as she’d hoped. She wasn’t even sure she’d wanted brandy, but Trixie’s suggestion had convinced her.
“Sorry to wake you,” Patsy whispered, “I’ll try to be more careful.” She poured a half shot into the glass, and took a sip before closing the bottle.
“It’s nothing.” Trixie yawned before stretching out and hugging her pillow. “Besides, I need to be up soon anyway.”
Patsy sat cross legged on her bed, trying to put her head together.
“Are you on call later?” Trixie rose, fussing with her curlers. Her inquiry was met with blankness. “Is everything alright?”
Patsy had just drunk brandy for breakfast. Everything was decidedly not alright.
“Sorry, no. Not until this evening.”
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Just nerves is all…” An unsettled weirdness was bubbling around in her stomach. Patsy couldn’t parcel if the feeling was butterflies in her stomach, or worry in her gut. It was at that moment, she realized that she’d probably be a pretty lousy doctor if she couldn’t figure out what her own body was telling her.
“I heard you were getting your own flat?” Trixie finished combing some body back into her hair.
“News certainly travels fast…”
“Well, what did you expect?” Trixie sat next to her on the bed. “This room will be absolutely rotten without you.”
This was what she needed to hear: a reminder to be grateful. It wasn’t as though she was unsatisfied at Nonnatus, she just knew she would be happier somewhere else with Delia. They were just butterflies. Maybe she’d become a doctor after all?
———
They planned to meet at the café at ten, and when she walked in at 9:58, Patsy found that Delia had already saved their favorite table and had a paper fanned out in front of her. Before announcing her appearance, Patsy took a minute to relish in the moment. Delia had been so thoughtful as to order them both tea and biscuits, as well as leave the cream and sugar on the side so Patsy could add them herself. (She’d found her tastes to be fickle over the last few months.) Patsy would have to slip some money into her pocket when she wasn’t looking. She was trying to decide whether to make an appearance or wait for Delia to notice her, but before she could commit, Delia’s larimar eyes caught her gaze. Their smiles mirrored as Patsy bounded over to the table. Delia lept to hug her.
“I could hardly sleep!” Delia exclaimed.
“Me either.” They sat across from each other, wondering if the other had gotten themselves lost in daydreams of domesticity. “I had to have a spot of brandy before I left Nonnatus.”
“You did not!” Delia smirked. “Maybe some poor chaps will order us pie again?”
Patsy laughed, helping herself to a biscuit and adding a splash of cream to her tea.
“I’ve got a few circled already, should we look?” Patsy smiled at the suggestion, holding her hand up in front of her mouth as not to spray Delia with biscuit.
“Obviously, yes!”
Definitely butterflies. She felt better already.
Being with Delia made her happy.
Really, really happy.
———
Patsy hated phoning strangers, it made her uncomfortable. (She very was thankful Delia agreed to do that part.) Now they were sitting on the floor of their new flat. Theirs. They were going to live there. Together. It wouldn’t be like the empty bed mornings at Nonnatus, and Nurses Home; when the other would leave an unignorable indent in their bed even if she hadn’t slept over.
They’d packed some light nosh, Patsy brought the basket and blanket, then they set up a proper picnic. After marvelling over their good fortune for a moment, Delia gasped.
“We’ll have to get a music player!” Naturally. Patsy was surprised she hadn’t thought of it first, but her brain was rightfully occupied. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, of course.” Delia stood up and brushed off her skirt. She offered a hand to Patsy.
“I’ll dance you all around the living room.” Delia started spinning her around.
“I’d like to add her initials to my monogram…” Patsy sang, albeit slightly off tune. “Tell me, where is the shepherd for this little lost lamb?”
“There is somebody I’m longing to see, I hope that she turns out to be…” Patsy embraced Delia and they sang the next part together:
“Someone to watch over me.”
Their chests were bursting with contentment. For the first time in years, they both felt safe. Delia raised her head, meeting Patsy’s gaze.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” She sighed, pulling Patsy in close. Delia could taste the vaseline on her lips: winter had been cruel to them. “I’m going to go to the market tomorrow and get you some new lip balm.”
Patsy laughed. In contrast to her cracks, Delia was delicious.
“I wish we could stay the night,” Delia smiled.
“Me too.” Patsy twirled some of Delia’s fringe with her fingers.
“We should probably get Lucy and Ricky beds.” Patsy mused, “it would quell suspicions.”
“I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to be here with you.”
Delia was right, they just needed to enjoy their time together.
“Come see me tomorrow.” Patsy breathed. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
———
The next day, Patsy realized she should not become a doctor after all.
“She told us to phone you immediately , but unfortunately we can’t let you see her…”
“That’s rubbish!” Patsy balked. “I’m a nurse.”
“No one can see her until we move her to recovery.”
“When will that be?”
“As soon as she wakes up from anesthetic.”
“That could be hours!”
“Hospital rules Nurse Mount, I’m sorry.”
“Well, the rules are bloody ridiculous.” Patsy was astonished at her level of outspokenness. She wasn’t usually so brash. She felt like Delia would be proud of her, even though in retrospect she was embarrassed at her outburst. Patsy was also furious that the doctor hadn’t elaborated on Delia’s condition. Just that she was to be moved to recovery, and had required anesthetic; which could mean many things. She tried to keep her mind from jumping to the worst, but it proved difficult. She could keep the thoughts at bay, but her gut never followed suit. Patsy sat in the uncomfortable waiting chairs sick to her stomach.
They’d planned on spending the night in the flat that evening, but now Patsy wasn’t sure they’d ever get to stay there. A nurse found her in the hallway.
“Nurse Mount?” It took Patsy a second to snap out of her doldrums. “We’ve just moved your flatmate to recovery and she’s asking about you.”
“May I see her now?” The other nurse nodded. Patsy sprung up, following close behind.
As they walked into the room, the nurse proceeded to explain:
“She’s had a nasty tibial fracture and a carpal dislocation. The bruising is purely superficial. She should be back to normal in a couple of months.” Patsy’s eyes welled up.
“Thank you.” She pulled up a chair next to Delia’s bed. “How are you?”
“I’ve figured it out.” Delia worked up a smile.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“We don’t need Lucy Ricky beds.” Delia swallowed, trying to gather the rest of her energy. “We’ll get two pullout sofas and only use one.”
Patsy laughed, taking Delia’s uninjured hand in hers. This was just like Delia—in the face of complete disaster, she was thinking about how great things were going to be in the future. In the hallway, they heard something that piqued both of their interests:
“I’m inquiring about my daughter, Delia Busby.”
“Right this way…”
“It’s my mum.” Delia closed her eyes. Patsy let go of her hand immediately, not sure of what to do next.
“Oh sweetheart…” Her mother barreled into the recovery ward, almost tripping over Patsy in the process. “What happened? You look awful.”
“Just a bit beat up is all.” Delia wilted.
“Best let her get some sleep.”
“When can I take her home with me?” This was not how Patsy had envisioned this conversation getting started, nor finished.
“We’ll need to keep her for observation a few more days.”
“Oh Delia sweetheart...” It occurred to Mrs. Busby then that someone was sitting where she herself would like to be seated.
“Excuse me,” the ward nurse began, “let’s move things out in the hallway so she can get some rest.”
Patsy nodded. Mrs. Busby, though hesitant, proceeded out of the ward when the nurse placed a hand on her shoulder. She and Patsy stood in the hallway as the nurse re-entered the room.
“How do you know Delia?” Mrs. Busby inquired, overwhelmed. “Did you see—”
She hadn’t seen anything. Only felt the drop in her stomach when Trixie burst into their bedroom sobbing. They’d found Patsy’s scarf in the street and had alerted everyone of the worst.
“We’re flatmates.” Patsy then had to explain that no, Delia no longer lived at Nurse’s House, yes they’d found a cute one bedroom, no they didn’t work at St John Ambulance together, but yes they did work together. Naturally, she left out the part about them being hopelessly in love.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to find another flatmate, Delia will need to come home to recover with me.” Patsy was heartbroken. Unsure of what to do next, she opened her mouth and let the first words fall out.
“We’ve paid our first three months upfront.” Shit. There was no way Delia’s mum would believe this. “It was erm...there was quite a bit of interest in the place so Delia and I agreed to—”
“All the more reason for her to come home with me.”
“With due respect Mrs. Busby, I am a nurse and could look after Delia as needed.” Patsy could feel more words bubbling up in her throat. Her nerves were becoming harder to stifle. “I have access to supplies and everything…”
“I um, that’s very kind of you. I’ll—I’ll certainly think about it.”
———
Sister Julienne had allowed her to trade call shifts with Barbara, which Patsy was very grateful for. She’d hung her scarf on the headboard because it still carried a faint scent of Delia. Patsy didn’t know how many days she would have to rely on it for comfort, but she hoped not many. She planned to visit Delia every day until she was released. Then they’d hopefully be able to move into their flat together. Patsy was crossing her fingers as tightly as possible.
As she sat on her bed that evening, Trixie returned home, and flung herself onto her own bed.
“We both need Manhattans.” She mumbled into her pillow. Patsy nodded. “I’ll mix, give me a second.”
Trixie pressed her face into the pillow hard and groaned before getting up and pouring some whisky and vermouth into her hot water bottle. She shook with vigor and poured the mixture into two glasses before sitting next to Patsy.
“I’m so glad you’re alright.”
“I shouldn’t have let her use my bicycle. I’m such an idiot.”
“Nonsense,” Trixie smiled, “Delia will be fine. You had us so worried!”
“Gracious...” Patsy furrowed her brows. “I’ve so much to do.”
“Will you still move?” With this question, Patsy took a big gulp of cocktail. “Sorry to ask.”
“Delia’s mother wants to take her home to recover.”
“That’s complete rubbish. Why would she not want Florence Nightingale caring for her daughter?” Patsy laughed, holding back tears. Trixie finished her drink and leaned over for a hug. “Things will be alright, I promise.”
“Tomorrow I’ll need to look for a bed for her.”
“That’s the spirit!”
———
Patsy had a knack for resale finds. It wasn’t a skill a lot of people knew, lest they pry about the reasons behind it. She’d lose herself in junk shops during her adolescence, making up stories about the people who owned each item she’d come across. She’d known of one place that sold lightly used furniture that was only a few miles from Nonnatus. She’d budgeted a little extra money to offer the shopkeeper if he could help her move.
When she got to the shop, she spent a few minutes mulling through the selection. A few regal end tables, (perhaps they could acquire them later); a plain, child-sized bed frame; a small medicine cabinet; three mismatched bookshelves; a couple of dodgy looking living room chairs; a half complete dining set; and finally, couches. Rather, one couch, and one day bed. Patsy held her breath.
“That’s a sofa bed.” The shopkeeper stood behind her. It took every ounce of energy she had not to cry.
“I’ll take them both.”
The shopkeeper sent his son with Patsy, and after they’d moved things into the flat, Patsy got out the cleaning supplies and went to work. She was biding time until visiting hours at the hospital, and imagining Delia’s face when she was finally able to bring her back to the flat. Each speck of dust Patsy wiped away was cathartic. One less thing that could be a witness to their love. Patsy wanted to grow old with Delia. If that meant they had to mislabel their relationship as just being flatmates forever, Patsy figured that was a small price. After tidying a bit, she glanced at her watch. If she got on her bike right that minute, she’d make it to the hospital in time to spend the entirety of visiting hours with Delia. On impulse, Patsy rubbed the counters down one last time before rushing out the door.
When she got to the hospital, she could see that Delia was upright. Delia’s mother stopped her before entering the ward.
“Nurse Mount,” Mrs. Busby began, “I’ve been giving it some thought.”
“Is she doing alright?” Patsy had noticed Delia’s mother looked like she was thinking of leaving. She didn’t mean to interrupt, but worry had gotten the best of her once again.
“Delia’s fine, yes.” Mrs. Busby sighed. “They let me see her for a bit this morning, and she’s been chattering on non-stop about the flat you found together. My Delia is very fond of you it seems.”
“The feeling is absolutely mutual Mrs. Busby.” Patsy blurted. “I’ve known Delia for some time, and she’s a terrific—” Inside, Patsy was screaming. She didn’t want to screw this up. “Friend.”
“She’s due to be released tomorrow. It doesn’t make sense for me to keep her away from work and friends for so long. I trust with your experience that you’ll take good care of her.”
Patsy grinned. She couldn’t hold back tears any longer. Wiping them away, she answered:
“I most certainly will. She’s in good hands Mrs. Busby, I can assure you.”
“My train is at half two, I’d like to come in with you and say goodbye before I leave.”
“Of course.” They walked into the ward together. Patsy’s chest was bursting. She was still upset that Delia was injured, but like Trixie had said, now she’d get to be Florence Nightingale. It felt like her life’s purpose was coming to fruition.
“Pats!” Delia smiled. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“You’re looking so much better.”
“Hello sweetheart.” Delia's mother touched her forehead.
“Hi mum.”
“Are you feeling better today?” Patsy asked.
“Bit of pain still, but I feel much better than yesterday.”
“Darling,” her mother began, “I’ve bought a train ticket for later this afternoon. Patsy’s agreed to care for you until you’re well. I thought about it all evening, and if it’ll make you happier to recover in Poplar, I want you to stay.”
Patsy and Delia smiled at each other.
“I’m only a telephone and train ride away, I just want you to remember that.” Mrs. Busby cleared her throat hoping to quell the mist accumulating in her eyes.
“I love you mum.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.” She kissed Delia on the forehead. “I’ll need to get to the station. Take good care of Delia, Nurse Mount.”
“I will.” Patsy took Delia’s hand. They both smiled at Mrs. Busby.
“You two are very lucky to have found friends each other.”
And that they were.
———
The next day, Patsy met Delia at the ward. She’d promised Nurse Crane to fill her petrol tank if she allowed Patsy to borrow her car. Though hesitant, Nurse Crane agreed. Patsy stopped at a flower cart on the way over to the hospital. She found three gorgeous peonies, had them tied up with ribbon, and placed them in the passenger seat of Nurse Crane’s car.
Delia needed some assistance walking with her crutches as her wrist was still sore.
“I can’t wait until you get to see the flat.”
“I’ll bet it’s lovely.”
“I found us beds!” With this exclamation, a wide grin spread across Delia’s face.
Once they got to the car, Patsy handed her the small bouquet.
“I thought they’d look nice in the vase.”
“They’re beautiful.” Patsy made sure no one was listening before opening her mouth:
“Not half as beautiful as you.”
She helped Delia into the car and drove them home. Their home.
———
The next few weeks were difficult, but they were both grateful. Delia had a comminuted tibial fracture, meaning her bone had shattered. Delia told Patsy that the only reason they’d let her go so early was because they needed the space, and they knew that Patsy would be able to care for her sufficiently. Patsy was glad the nurses had such confidence in her. She delighted in bringing Delia homemade soup while she recouped on the daybed. Delia had made it expressly clear that once she was well enough, they would keep the daybed for show only. Patsy was giddy with the thought.
Her wrist was back to normal in a couple of weeks, but her leg would need to be in a cast for months. Patsy took the first week off at Nonnatus to care for Delia, and after that had passed, she scaled back her shifts a bit with Sr. Julienne’s permission. If they weren’t both on call, sometimes Trixie would head over to the flat to keep Delia entertained while Patsy was out. The girls wondered if Trixie had figured them out. Thankfully, Patsy realized that Trixie just thought the three of them were great friends.
Delia was well enough to light sparklers with Patsy on Fireworks Day—even though she had to hold them away from her crutches so they wouldn’t catch fire. They kissed under the crackling lights when no one was watching.
As Delia’s strength returned, she was able to help Patsy with the cooking. They were able to scrape together some extra money and get ahold of one of the regal end tables which Delia used as a nightstand for her books. She was able to return to the hospital for admissions work until her leg healed completely. Delia was very grateful that the staff valued her enough to keep her position available for her. She was also happy to get out of bed. Though she enjoyed reading, and spending time with Patsy, she figured she might bore herself to death before too long.
The paperwork was tedious at times, but Delia loved not having to stand when the doctors entered the room. She thought most of them were cheeky anyway, and it felt nice to not have to salute their authority just because they were sharing a space with her. Delia’s colleagues were not so secretly jealous. She’d been able to avoid most of the frisky touching from one of the least liked doctors as well. He couldn’t tap her bottom if it was always situated in a chair!
The other nurses liked having her around to keep up with the paperwork also. She managed to convince one of the lead doctors to let her borrow a wheelchair while she was on shifts to take care of basic tasks without having to amble around on crutches. After awhile, she’d figured out how to do a basic work up without standing. Some of her patients took comfort in the fact that she knew what they were going through. Others were distrustful of her impairment, choosing instead to have another nurse look after them. Even the nurse whose hiring confused everyone, as she seemed hardly capable. Delia chose to avoid confrontation on the subject. She was just happy not to be cooped up in the flat all the time.
This wasn’t to say that she and Patsy didn’t like spending time there together. They enjoyed each other’s company more and more. Admittedly, they were both a bit restless; Delia was still sleeping in the daybed. They decided to wait until she’d gotten the go ahead from her orthopedist to put weight on her leg, even if it was just a little. Until then, they didn’t want to risk injuring Delia’s leg further. It was agonizing.
Evenings after dinner, they’d sit on the couch together, Delia’s old radio playing quietly in the background. Delia would catch up on reading medical journals, or cheesy pulp novels. She would rest in Patsy’s arms, and the two of them would hum along when a song they knew came up. Patsy relished in the smell of Delia’s hair. Even when her arms would fall asleep, she figured this was the pinnacle of comfort. Nothing felt like it was going to go wrong. It was as though they’d put the worst behind them, and things were just getting better and better.
———
Christmas was fast approaching and Delia was mostly back to her old self. In the months she’d been injured, she was able to arrange her life suitably around her leg. It was an immense help to have Patsy around too, she made the time much more pleasant. Since Delia was able to do most everything without help, Patsy was able to go back to her old schedule at Nonnatus, which meant that their incomes were a lot steadier. Patsy would surprise her with fresh flowers all the time, which always made the apartment smell lovely.
On one of the last scout meetings before holiday break, Patsy and Delia found a great idea to help the boys get their art badges.
“I want you to paint my cast. The plaster’s a bit boring, don’t you think?” The boys’ eyes widened with joy.
“Do you mean it Nurse Mount?” Timothy asked.
“Of course!” Delia handed him a brush then sat down and situated her leg on an adjacent chair. By the end of the meeting, her leg was covered in a mural of Godzilla fighting a dinosaur, a poorly proportioned Liz Taylor, a few sweets, a campfire, and a thoughtful picture of she, Patsy, and Fred in their uniforms.
After the boys left, Patsy dipped a brush into the red paint and started making hearts in a few spare places on Delia’s cast.
“I saw the doctor,” Delia smiled. Patsy looked up, hoping this meant what she thought it meant.
“And?”
“He said a little weight now and again would be alright.” Their faces lit up. “Happy Christmas, Pats.”
———
They couldn’t wait to get home: the bus couldn’t come fast enough; they couldn’t walk the five blocks fast enough; they couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough; they couldn’t unlock the door fast enough. They were about to unfold the couch when Patsy noticed a box in the middle of the room.
“Oh, I totally forgot!” She put her hand on her forehead. “I got you something as well. Actually, it’s for both of us.”
Delia went over to inspect the package, and Patsy opened up the closet and pulled out a thin square package.
“They didn’t have the one I was looking for, so the woman at the store let me have this one for £1.”
Delia was confused, until she started opening the bigger box. It was a record player.
“I found it at the resale shop. It just needed a quick tune up.” She handed Delia the record she was carrying.
“Blossom Dearie?”
“They didn’t have Someone to Watch Over Me, so I got this one instead.”
“Oh, Patsy! My goodness, this is perfect.”
“Hopefully it won’t crackle like your radio.” Patsy chided. Delia laughed and jokingly smacked her in the ribs, which caused Patsy to fall back on the couch. Delia sat next to her, moving as close as possible. Their lips touched, and before they knew it, they could barely catch a breath between them. Patsy pulled away for a moment, trying to get a handle on the rapid beat of her heart.
“I love you Delia. I love you so, so much.”
———
The next morning they awoke tangled in each other. It was the first time they didn’t have to worry about being seen. The idea of premarital intercourse didn’t really phase either of them because their relationship was illegal already. It wasn’t like they could do much worse. Patsy hadn’t realized how much she wanted to touch Delia’s breasts until she’d finally gotten the opportunity. Delia hadn’t realized how much she liked watching Patsy try and collect her breath before climax either, and now she felt that life wouldn’t be the same.
Delia also liked the feel of Patsy’s warmth on her chest. They couldn’t quite cuddle comfortably yet, but they both looked forward to the day where their togetherness wasn’t contingent on not hurting Delia’s leg further. Delia combed Patsy’s hair out of her face.
“Did you sleep alright?” In lieu of answering, Patsy rolled over and placed a kiss on Delia’s bare chest.
“I’m going to make you breakfast.” Delia’s face lit up. Breakfast in bed? She felt like a princess. “Let’s put on this record. I wonder if it’s any good?”
As the eggs sizzled and cracked, Little Jazz Bird Blossom’s voice twinkled through the speaker:
Let me love you, let me show that I do...let me a do a million impossible things so you know that I do!
Delia happily watched Patsy toast bread and put the kettle on. They both knew that lazy morning breakfasts in bed would be a regular occurrence in the future. Anything to soak up more of the other’s company. Patsy was excited that Delia was feeling well enough to do normal things again. She was also excited that they were finally out of the liminal what-if space, and knew that they’d be with each other for a long time. As she plated their breakfast and brought it over to Delia, the next song had started to play.
When the robins stop singing, you're what I'm clinging to—though they say it's spring it's you.
She brought the mugs of tea over, setting one down next to Delia before sitting down facing her.
“I’m really, really happy.” She grinned.
“Me too Pats, me too.”