Chapter Text
Over the next few weeks Patsy and Delia started spending more time together. When they were on the same shifts they sat outside together during their breaks, Patsy elegantly smoking a cigarette while Delia enjoyed the ‘fresh’ air. And they usually walked back home together at the end of the day too. Even if they were on different shifts they always managed to have a quick cup of tea in the garden of the Nurses’ Home before one of them had to go to the hospital. A few times, when their days off coincided, they had gone back to that same spot in the park to sit and talk, relaxed by the privacy of the secluded bench they always visited. There had also been several evenings of whiskey and hushed laughter in Patsy’s room at the Nurses’ Home. They were both a little surprised by the speed at which they had become such good friends. Patsy because she had never been one for making fast friends; and Delia because she’d had such a different impression of Patsy before she got to know her. One night, when Patsy was on a late shift, a group of the other student nurses were gathered in the living room playing cards. “So Delia,” Victoria said, slyly, “Why have you been hanging out with Mount so much?”
“Yes,” agreed Mary, “She’s such an oddball.”
“Did you see Dr Horley ‘admiring’ her behind during the respiratory assessment demonstration.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they were fooling around behind Mrs Horley’s back.” This made the rest of the nurses blush and giggle. Delia rose from her seat slowly.
“How dare you?” she spat furiously. “How!? Dare!? You!?” The others were shocked by her unusually raised voice. They had no idea that little Delia Busby was capable of such ferocity. “Patsy works harder than all of you put together. She’s kind. And caring. And generous. And funny. And the most brilliant listener. She may not be the easiest person got get to know, but she’s worth it when you do. So don’t you judge her. Don’t you spread hideous gossip about her. She deserves better.” There was perfect silence. The nurses were all feeling a little ashamed. But then they became aware of a figure standing in the doorway; they weren’t sure how long it had been there. Their faces turned even redder when they realised who it was. “Patsy,” gasped Delia. Patsy just turned on her heels and marched up the stairs.
“Pats,” whispered Delia, knocking lightly on her friend’s bedroom door, “It’s just me. Can I come in?” There was a moments pause.
“Ok,” came the quiet reply. Delia opened the door but didn’t enter immediately, she just hovered on the threshold, watching Patsy angrily yank pins out of her hair.
“Ouch,” she cursed as one of them got stuck, tangled up with all the lacquer. She pulled hard at it with frustration but it remained fast. Delia silently walked over to sit behind her on the bed, removed Patsy’s hand from the pin, and gently worked it out of her hair, eventually placing the now-free pin on the bedside chest.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, feeling guilty and mortified that Patsy had heard her little speech earlier.
“You’ve got nothing to apologise for,” said Patsy, unusually quietly. “I’ve never heard anybody speak that kindly of me.” This made Delia smile. “But do they really all hate me that much?” Rare insecurity evident in her voice.
“They don’t hate you Pats,” said Delia, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Like I said: they just haven’t had the chance to get to know you.” Patsy sighed. After what she’d heard tonight she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get to know the other nurses. However she didn’t voice this thought. Instead, the two of them sat in silence as Delia picked up a hair brush and stated to lovingly and delicately remove all the pins from Patsy’s do, and brush out the lacquer. Patsy closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling more relaxed than she could ever remember.
The security that she felt as a result of Delia’s kind gesture clashed with the insecurity she felt from hearing the other nurses’ opinions of her, and completely overwhelmed Patsy. She started to cry. Delia felt the sobs shaking through her friend’s body so put the brush down and readjusted her position so that the two of them were facing. “Oh Pasty,” breathed Delia, heartbroken that her friend was so upset.
“My mum used to do that,” said Patsy, barely above a whisper, “Brush my hair like that. And I used to brush my sister’s” she explained. “We’d sit in a line on the bunk; mum, then me, then Chrissy. We’d borrow an extra brush from someone else in our cell, and we’d sit in silence brushing each other’s hair. Chrissy would pretend to brush her doll’s hair.” She smiled through the tears, enjoying one of the few nice memories of her family. Suddenly she noticed the look of shock on Delia’s face.
“You’re cell?” asked Delia, her voice only just audible. Patsy took a deep breath. This was going to be a long, and difficult conversation.
“Delia, I do want to talk to you - to tell you about my childhood - but can it wait? I’m so tired, and it’s not an easy story to tell.” She fidgeted with her hands uneasily. “We both have Wednesday off don’t we? Maybe we could get out of the city? Find some of that fresh country air you’re always pining for. We can talk then. Is that alright?”
“Of course,” said Delia kindly, despite that fact that she was already on edge, anxious to know the story. She took Patsy’s hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” she said, “but don’t hesitate to knock on my door if you need to talk, or just want some company.” Patsy thanked her genuinely, then bid her a fond goodnight.
Delia didn’t sleep much that night; tossing and turning, trying to imagine what Patsy had been through. She felt a heavy, sickening guilt when she realised that she had shared so much about her own upbringing, whereas Pasty had shared none of her own. Delia had told her all about her mother and father; her two little brothers David and Gareth; the little village that she grew up in, and all the people who lived there. But Delia knew absolutely nothing about Patsy’s childhood and upbringing - apart from the fact that her mother had died of typhoid. She didn’t know when, or under what circumstances. This evening’s mention of a sister was the first time any other relative had been mentioned. But the words ‘bunk’ and ‘cell’, alongside the tears that Patsy had shed, rang serious alarm bells for Delia. She was under the clear impression that Patsy’s upbringing had been nowhere near as pleasant as her own. It broke her heart. But she also felt a kind of pride, that Pasty had chosen her to confide in. She was glad that she had earned her new friend’s trust so quickly, and she was pleased to have seen a little side to Patsy Mount that none of the others had ever seen before. A side that none of them knew.
After their regular lunch together in the Nurses’ room on Tuesday, Patsy hurried to be back on the ward in time for Dr Tracey’s afternoon rounds, and Delia set about preparing a luxurious picnic for their trip. She went a little overboard at the fruit stall on the market; buying more ruby red apples, glassy green grapes, and ripe sunny bananas that they would possibly be able to eat. From the butchers she bought some freshly sliced ham, and a pork pie. She stopped off at the bakery just to get a loaf of bread, but a tray of spectacular individual cakes caught her eye, each with a stunningly red half-strawberry sunken into the fluffy white icing. She just had to buy two, carefully placing the box on top of the rest of her purchases as to keep them from being squashed. Back at the Nurses’ Home Delia rummaged through the linin cupboards to find a picnic blanket which she promptly ironed. She placed the folded cloth onto the picnic basket, tucking it around the edge of the feast. She left herself a note not to forget that the meat, pie, and bottle of lemonade were in the refrigerator.
She spent the rest of the evening curled up in an armchair with her book, but she didn’t even finish one more page, her mind elsewhere. There were butterflies dancing energetic spirals in her stomach, a mixture between excitement and nerves. When Pasty arrived home, exhausted from a stressful day working with the infuriating Dr Tracey, Mary cajoled them into a game of Monopoly so they barely got a moment alone. No matter though, they knew that tomorrow would be a wonderful day.