Chapter Text
Seren clutched her coat a little closer to her and shivered. The air was still crisp and the season could have been mistaken for winter, despite the new flowers blooming in their respective boxes on the windowsills from which they perched. The welshwoman pushed her glasses up her nose and looked from her phone to the building that stood before her, then back at her phone. The address matched. Even the building looked the same from the photographs she was able to find with a simple google search, except for the glaring “DO NOT ENTER” sign on the door, with some black and white letter from the city saying something about the place being condemned. Otherwise, the place looked unchanged, a draconian relic surrounded by the modern residential area that had been built up around it.
Seren stuck her phone back in her pocket and hitched her rucksack up more firmly over her shoulder. She had only brought enough things for a few days, not knowing just how long this trip would be, but she had committed herself to not returning home to Tenby until the job was done, or until she got the information she needed.
The 39 year old had only ever visited London on school trips, never before really having an interest in working here or staying long term. All her family were in Wales, and up until recently, her career.
This old midwifery home in Poplar was where her research had led her to, hopefully, find whatever happened to the woman whose existence she had only found out just that morning when her grandfather spoke of her for the first time. The man at age 82 was recently stricken with pneumonia and recovering at home. Seren's mother was adamant that they pack up his things and move him to her house so she could look after him in what they feared to be his final months.
Seren's unemployment, while a much welcome change for her mental health, left her with more spare time than she cared to have, so she volunteered to help her mam go through his things to help declutter and move him.
The process had been slow as Seren's mam took her time pulling things out to look them over, many articles of clothing bringing back happy nostalgic memories of her childhood and teenage years. Several boxes were packed and marked for storage or donation. Photo albums and other trinkets collected over the decades were sifted through and examined, Seren not having much interest in any of it until a loose photograph fell from a book she had been flipping through, and fluttered to her feet.
It was small, black and white. A simple square that could have easily gone into a frame at some point, the edges frayed and browning with age. Seren picked up the photograph and examined it, her curiosity spiking at the sight of a little girl holding hands with a boy who she knew to be her grandfather. What struck Seren was that the little girl looked just like her grandfather. She could have mistaken them for twins if she hadn’t been nearly a head taller than him at the time the photo was taken. Was this a family relation? To her knowledge, her grandfather was an only child.
She walked the photograph over to her grandfather who was resting in an armchair, hooked up to his oxygen tank while game shows played on the television in front of him.
Seren muted the television and held out the photograph. ‘Bampi, who is this?’
The man took the photo with a shaky hand and brought it close to his face, his eyes squinting through his glasses to get a good look.
‘You don’t recognize that good lookin’ young man there, eh?’
‘Well yes I can see that’s you,’ Seren smiled at her grandfather’s sass as she took a seat on the settee beside him, ‘but who is the little girl you’re holding hands with? Was she a cousin or something? A neighbor?’
‘Oh, no,’ the man sighed through his nose and handed the photograph back to Seren, ‘that’s my sister, that is.’
‘Sister?’ Seren blinked. Since when did her bampi have a sister?
‘Delia,’ he said, his voice sounding very far away. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, nodding, ‘Yes, Delia.’
‘Delia,’ Seren slowly repeated, sounding out the name for the first time on her lips, ‘You’ve never mentioned a sister before. Mam!’ Seren called down the empty hallway, only to turn back to her grandfather, ‘Bampi, what happened to her? Do you know? Why haven’t you mentioned her until now? Is she alive? Are there other photographs? Did-’
The man raised his hand to cease Seren's stream of questions, taking a deep breath before replying, ‘I don’t know what’s happened to her, Seren. Don’t know if she’s alive or in Timbuktu or what.’
‘What is it, what’s going on?’ Seren's Mam came down the hallway and rested her hand on the top of her fathers chair, looking down to see the photograph in Seren's hand.
‘Did you know Bampi had a sister? Delia?’
Seren handed the photograph to her mother and watched as the woman studied it with a furrowed brow.
‘Remember her leaving for London when she were 18 or so,’ Seren's grandfather went on, ‘I was still in school, just know I never saw her again.’ he paused, shrugging, ‘She never came back home.’
‘Never came back?’ Seren raised an eyebrow, ‘She never wrote? Called? Nothing?’
‘Your Granny went over to London to visit for a time.’
‘Granny Busby? In London?’ Seren’s mam scoffed, ‘she always said she hated the city.’
‘So what happened, Bampi?’ Seren leaned forward, ‘What happened when Granny Busby went to London?’
Seren's grandfather shrugged again and shook his head, ‘Dwtty, it was so long ago, I don’t remember all the details… think she had been in an accident, Delia,’ he took a deep breath and coughed, continuing on once he was able to catch his breath, ‘Granny went there thinking she would bring her home once she was better, but she never did. Granny came home by herself, and the next thing I know she was clearing out Delia’s old room. Ripping up photographs, burning letters. Was told to never speak of her again.’
‘Oh my god.’ Seren remarked.
‘You know,’ Seren's mother looked up in thought, ‘I remember collecting the mail once for Gran when I was a kid, maybe... ‘73? ‘74? Must have been around new years because there was a decorative christmas card that had arrived late. I just remember asking if I could open it and she snatched it out of my hands when she saw who it was from. She shooed me out the door to the shops for something before I ever had a chance to really see what it was or ask her about it. Always thought it was peculiar.’
Seren looked up at her mother curiously, ‘What on earth could this woman have possibly done to have had Granny want her wiped from the memory of this family?’
‘Your Granny never told me what really happened there, in London,’ Seren's’ grandfather continued, ‘Figured she’d gone off and gotten in the family way with some lad. I tried calling around for her to see where she had gotten to. The old midwifery place in Poplar was the last I knew of her whereabouts.’
‘So you’re saying I’ve got an estranged auntie out there somewhere? Possibly cousins? Banished from the family because she was an unwed mother?’ Seren's mother scoffed, ‘Knew Granny was a bitter old goat, but really, how could you do that to your own child.’
‘How terrible,’ Seren shook her head.
‘Oh, I didn’t say that,’ Seren’s grandfather shook his head, ‘I said that’s what I figured had happened. But… when I rang the old midwifery place, they told me she and a friend had left the place. Gone to Africa for a holiday.’
Seren blinked. ‘A friend?’
‘Yes. A friend. Given the way Granny reacted when she returned from London, I could only assume it was because Delia and this friend were… well…’ he trailed off, looking away.
‘What, more than friends?’ Seren's mother offered.
Seren's expression turned from concern to one of astonishment when realization dawned on her.
‘She was gay!’
‘Bloody hell,’ her mother griped.
‘Again I can only assume,’ Seren’s grandfather shrugged. ‘Never found out for sure, did I?’
‘Unbelievable,’ Seren shook her head. She could feel the slow roll of her blood starting to boil from anger. ‘What was this place called, in London? The midwifery place.’
‘Oh Seren, I don’t know. She might not even be out there. Been nearly 60 years since I’ve seen or heard from her.’
‘Well I want to know if she’s still out there, still alive.’ Seren stood and took the photograph from her mothers hands, holding it out for her grandfather to see again, ‘don’t you? Don’t you want to know whatever happened to your sister?’
‘Seren, really…’
‘I’m not being funny, Mam!’ Seren took her mother by the arm and gently pulled her down the hallway, lowering her voice, ‘you and I very well know that Bampi only has so much time left with us. If his sister is still out there I want her to know that he is still here, and to give her a chance to say goodbye. Hell, she’s got an entire extended family that didn’t know she existed until two minutes ago!’
‘Sweetie, look, this is shocking to me too but we can’t just-’
‘Seren!’ Seren's grandfather called from his recliner. He brought his closed fist to his mouth as another coughing fit overtook him. Seren stood by his side again while her mother fetched him a glass of water.
‘Nonnatus,’ he finally said. ‘It was called Nonnatus.’
Now, Seren found herself standing here in front of said Nonnotus. Fresh off the train, she rubbed at the twinge of pain in her shoulder from sitting the last five hours. The sun had set below the horizon on this spring evening, which made the torchlight shining in her face all the more abrasive to her senses.
‘Oi, what you doin?’
Seren quickly removed her hand from the doorknob of the building and brought it to her face to shield her eyes from the torchlight.
‘Sign says the place is condemned,’ the voice said, lowering the light, ‘Move along now. Not safe for you to be poking about.’
‘Sorry I just…’ Seren blinked her eyes, adjusting to the darkness again. She could see at the foot of the stairs a figure dressed in a dark uniform, one she could only assume was that of a guard. ‘Does anyone work here? Does anyone know what happened to this building?’
‘It’s decrepit and falling apart, that’s what.’ the guard said, waving their torch impatiently, ‘Doors locked up for a reason, let's go.’
‘Look,’ Seren tried pleading, tiredly, feeling the weight of her journey resting heavy on her body and not wanting this whole endeavor to lead her to a dead end so soon, ‘I’m just looking for… anyone… who can tell me about this place. Anyone who can point me to any… information or records of who may have worked here in the 50s and 60s.’
The guard raised a tired eyebrow.
Seren sighed and ran her fingers through her dark hair, thinking she was leading herself on a wild goose chase driven by one ancient photograph and her grandfather's word.
The guard shifted on their feet and checked their watch, sighing.
‘Lucky day for you,’ they said, shutting off their torch, ‘my shift is up and I know just the person you need to speak with. Can probably catch them before they go to bed for the night.’
Seren could feel her hopes lifted. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah, come on,’ the guard nodded their head in the direction behind them, ‘two blocks this way.’
Stricken with an excited energy, Seren quickly descended the stars and struggled to keep pace with the guard who was notably taller than her and had a long stride.
A few moments of silence passed before she tentatively looked up and asked ‘So, where are we going?’
‘Me Gran’s flat.’ they replied casually, ‘She’s been here in Poplar nearly all her life save for a stint in the army back in the 50s. She’d probably know what you’re looking for. Point you in the right direction at least.’
‘Ah.’
More silence followed accompanied by the sounds of footsteps against asphalt and the occasional car driving past.
‘What’s your name, if you don’t mind my asking?’ Seren asked.
‘Frankie. You?’
‘Seren.’
‘Mmhmm,’ Frankie replied, sticking their hands in their pockets, ‘where you from?’
‘Wales… Tenby. You?,’ Seren smiled shyly.
‘From here,’ Frankie shrugged. ‘Left for a time. Came back. So it is. What's a young thing like you traveling all the way out here alone for, anyway?’
‘Young?’ Seren laughed, ‘I’m nearly 40.’
‘Nah, you’re tellin porkies, mate,’ Frankie gave her a teasing smile, ‘No way you’re over 25.’
‘True as.’
They stopped as they arrived at the double doors of a flat complex, Frankie opening one of them and allowing Seren to enter first. They led them to a lift where Frankie punched a button with their knuckle and stuck their hands back in their pocket. In the terrible lighting of the old lift, Seren was able to get a better look at Frankie. Their expression was a tired one, seemingly having worked a long shift, but Seren imagined she looked no better after a day on the train. Frankie’s features were rather chiseled, with a strong jaw and a roughness to the skin looking to have been from a life of hard work and in the sun, short brunette hair shaved at the sides with a bit of salt and pepper poking through near the temples. The uniform they wore was a standard v-neck jumper and dark trousers and boots, a utility belt with a radio and that bloody torch that blinded her earlier.
The lift opened and Frankie led them to a door to which they had the keys, and led Seren in without issue.
‘Gran!’ Frankie called out, unbuckling their belt and placing the thing on the hook by the door.
Seren took a moment to look around at the old flat. The scent of tea and flowers were the first things she noticed. It was a welcoming scent that calmed her nerves. Dimly lit by lamplight, she could see an old settee and a comfortable looking recliner to her right, old books and magazines scattered on a small coffee table. To her left was a chest of drawers decorated with the odd photograph or birthday card. As Seren looked further, she could see a more tidy lounge area with a dining table, another chest for china and silverware. She could hear the sounds of the evening news coming from a radio in the small kitchen.
A balcony door slid open and an old woman in a dressing gown carrying a water can appeared. Looking past her, Seren could see an arrangement of potted flowers and newly budding herbs littering the small balcony.
‘Oi, Frankie you could have told me you was bringing a guest for supper. Would have put on the kettle.’
‘No worries Gran, I’ll get it. You just sit down now.’
Beside her, Seren tried not to watch as Frankie removed their jumper to reveal a rather cut figure in a white v-neck undershirt. They ran their fingers through their short hair and looked at Seren.
‘You hungry? Gonna whip up some leftover shepherd's pie from last night. Could run and get a curry or chippy from down the street if you want.’
Seren raised a hand, her stomach suddenly churning with hunger. ‘Whatever's easiest sounds grand. I’ll have whatever you’re having.’
‘You going to introduce me to your girlfriend here, Frankie?’
‘Oh, we’re not-’
‘Seren.’ Frankie sniffed as they headed straight for the kitchen. ‘Caught this one trying to break into the Nonnatus place.’
‘I was not trying to break in ,’ Seren bristled, ‘I didn't know the place was condemned when I arrived.’
‘Nonnatus? That old place?’ the elderly woman looked curiously at Seren.
‘Yup.’ Frankie replied as they noisily opened and closed cupboard doors and collected plates.
‘What on earth you want to get into that old place for? Been ages since it was a functioning missions house.’
‘Said she was looking for someone who used to work there in the 60’s or summat.’ Frankie called.
‘That so?’ the woman asked, taking a good look at Seren. She put her watering can down and hobbled over to her dining room table, ‘well, have a seat chick, can I get you some tea?’
Seren placed her rucksack by the foot of the coat rack and pleaded, ‘Oh, no need, thank you, I don’t mind getting it myself.’
‘Oh, hush, kiddo, Frankie’s here, they can get it for us.’
Frankie rolled their eyes and brought the kettle to the sink for some fresh water.
The elderly woman sat at the dining room table and took a good look at Seren as the welshwoman took a seat at the table opposite her. Seren could feel herself perspire under her intense gaze. She could barely hear her speak over the sounds of Frankie fussing in the kitchen.
‘You look familiar.’ she finally said.
Seren shifted in her seat, fiddling with the buttons on her coat. ‘Do I?’
‘Your mum from around here? Gran?’ the woman tapped her fingers on the table, ‘swear I’ve seen your face before. Probably delivered a baby or two in your family.’
‘Oh, not likely.’ Seren nervously pushed her glasses up her nose, ‘I hardly ever visit London and everyone in my family is in Wales.’
‘What’s your name, chick?’
‘Seren Evans.’
The woman looked up in thought. ‘Evans… Evans…’
‘I… I don’t think the woman I’m looking for has my surname. It might have been Busby.’
‘Busby?’
‘Delia Busby.’ Seren reached into the breast pocket of her coat and retrieved the photograph, her voice nealy shaking with nerves at the sight of recognition flashing across the woman's face. ‘She’d have been from Wales, l-like me. I’m sorry I only have a photograph of her as a kid, but if it helps-’
‘No need kid,’ the woman waved away the photograph, ‘been ages since I heard the name, but I remember Delia Busby.’
Seren felt her heart leap in her throat with a feeling of hope. ‘You do?!’
‘Oh yeah, Welsh kid, sweet. Lived with us for a time at the house when she decided to retrain as a midwife. Remember her tied at the hip of another all the time. Blast, what was her name. Can see her, red hair, tall…’
Seren leaned forward and lowered her voice, hoping this woman would understand the implication of her tone. ‘Was it… a friend ?’
‘Ooh, it’s bothering me now that I can’t remember her name. Hang on a tic, think I might know someone who would know.’
‘Gran don’t get up, what do you need?’ Frankie appeared at the table and set down three empty mugs and a pot of hot water. ‘I’ll get it for ya.’
‘Gimmie the phone and the little address book in the drawer there.’ she pointed to the little table next to her recliner.
Frankie fetched the phone and book and continued to set the table, bringing plates and boxes of different types of tea for Seren to help herself to.
‘Let's hope this number still works.’ she said as she slowly punched in the numbers.
Seren was riddled with nerves, not trusting her hands to steady themselves rough to pour herself a cup of tea. She clasped them in her lap instead and waited anxiously for whomever was on the other end to pick up. Her heart thumped in her chest when someone did finally answer.
‘Oi Trix, it’s Val Dyer.’ she smiled.
There was a pause, and then, ‘Well my good giddy aunt, if it isn’t Valerie Dyer. To what do I owe the pleasure?’
The volume on the phone was turned up so loud that Seren had no problem hearing this Trix person on the other end without the phone needing to be on speaker.
‘Well hello to you too. Listen, my Frankie just drug in someone from off the street trying to break into the old Nannatus place.’
Seren felt the heat in her cheeks rise. ‘I wasn’t trying t-’
‘Says she’s related to someone who we worked with, Delia Busby. Remember her?’
‘Remember who?’
‘Delia?’
‘What about her?’
‘Do you remember her? Delia?
‘Delia is there with you right now?’
‘No you deaf old -’ Valerie cut herself off and shouted into the phone, ‘I’ve got Delia’s Granddaughter or sommat here in my kitchen.’
‘What is Delia’s Granddaughter doing in your kitchen?’
‘She’s looking for Delia!’
‘Oh dear!’ Trixie replied, ‘Has something bad happened? Do we need to call the police? Put in a missing persons report?’
‘That’s a good question!’ Valerie looked to Seren, ‘Do we?’
‘No!’ Seren exclaimed, barely noticing the hot bowl of shepherd's pie being set down in front of her, ‘I don’t even know if she’s alive or not!’
Trixie scoffed on the other end, ‘Should hope so or I’ll ring Patsy’s neck for not saying anything about it.’
‘Patsy!’ Valerie smacked her hand on the table, ‘Yeah, that’s the badger! Patsy Mount. You remember whatever happened to them? Think the last I saw of those two was Barbara's wedding.’
‘Oh, don’t talk to me about Barbara,’ Trixie sniffed.
‘Blimey,’ Valerie covered the receiver with her hand and rolled her eyes, ‘Been nearly 60 years since she died and the woman is still upset about it.’
During this interaction, Seren watched as Frankie pulled out their chair and sat down, looking almost comically big against the small table as they held their bowl in their large hand and shoveled hot food into their mouth with the other. Table manners did not seem to take precedence with them as they unabashedly reached for things like teas and salt and pepper and took up plenty of space with their elbows on the table and legs spread nearly from end to end. Seren wasn’t so concerned with this, rather wondering how Frankie was able to look like they were flexing without really flexing as they seemed to gulp down their entire mug of tea in one go.
‘Did they go to Africa?’ Seren interjected curiously, forcing herself to focus on Valerie when Frankie noticed her staring, ‘My Grandfather mentioned they had gone to Africa.’
‘Val is that you? Who's speaking?’ Trixie asked.
‘Seren. Seren Evans,’ she replied louder, ‘I’m the one looking for Delia.’
‘Are you the police?’
‘No! The police are not involved. Look,’ Seren took a deep breath to find her patience, ‘Sorry. I should explain that I’m Delia’s great niece. I didn't even know Delia existed until this morning! No one in my family did, other than my Grandfather.’
There was a pause, and Frankie wiped their mouth with the back of their hand. ‘Why?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Whatever offence Delia committed, it was enough for my great Gran to take that secret to the grave with her. I just happened to have found this one photograph of Delia by chance, and it came to light that all others had been burned, all evidence of her gone. Her mother destroyed it, because… well… I don’t know. I have my suspicions though that it might have been because… because of..’
‘Because of Patsy.’ Trixie finished for her.
‘Was it really?’ Valerie asked.
‘Oh Val, really .’ Trixie tisked. Seren could just imagine the woman rolling her eyes through the phone, ‘Of course it was. You think they were just playing card games all those nights alone in their room together?’
Seren narrowed her eyes at Frankie who tried to hide their laugh with a cough.
‘Oh, I knew that! Just didn’t think Delia’s mum would have done something so drastic.’
‘Well, you know what it was like back then, what she was like. She wanted to force Delia to come home after that nasty accident with the bicycle.’
‘What accident?’ Seren asked.
‘Ah, right. Hit by a car, poor thing.’ Valerie lamented, ‘Lost her memory for a time. Patsy was so distraught.’
‘Don’t blame the two for running off together when they did. Speaking of which, Val, didn’t I give you something of theirs?’
‘What’s that?’
‘An old tin. Think it was a box of horlicks or something of that nature.’
‘What would I have wanted a tin of horlicks for?’
‘There wasn’t really horlicks in the box, you git. It was some of Patsy’s old things that I didn’t want the others finding because, you know. ’
‘And just why did you have a tin of Patsy’s old things?’
‘Don’t you get any ideas. Just because we shared a room does not mean I invaded her privacy. I found some things as I was cleaning for the next nurse to arrive. The pair of them left for Africa so quickly after Patsy returned from Hong Kong that she must have hidden it and forgotten all about it. Anyway, horlicks. I remember specifically handing you the tin before I went on my sabbatical for safe keeping in case they ever came back.’
‘Which they never did.’
‘Right, and then you took that all with you when you buggered off to god knows where.’
‘Well we don’t need to get into that now…’ Valerie rested the phone on her shoulder, ‘Frankie, be a love and look in the cupboards above the fridge for an old horlicks tin.’
Frankie slumped in their chair. ‘Really?’
‘What?’
‘For as much as you moved around, you really kept something like that for this long?’
Valerie waved her hand towards the refrigerator, ‘Just go look, will ya?’
’So, sounds like they went to Africa?’ Seren interjected as Frankie rose from their seat, ‘Do you know what country? Could they still be there?’
Serene could feel the hope that had initially filled her heart fade at the thought of her long lost relative being on another continent. She wondered if she would have enough time to get to her before her grandfather passed.
'Oh no, they came back eventually and settled up in Scotland, if I recall.’
Seren’s eyes widened. ‘Scotland?’
‘Oh yes. Still there.’ Trixie replied, ‘Get the occasional Christmas card from them and the like. Hold on.’
Valerie scoffed, ‘You get Christmas cards?’
A small tin container was placed on the table in front of Seren, and her eyes widened.
Valerie smirked. ‘Well, what do you know.’
With Frankie having settled into their seat once more, both Seren and Frankie leaned forward, curiously peering into the tin box as Seren cautiously popped off the top. Inside was a pile of letters, all addressed to Patsy from Delia with a multitude of stamps to suggest they had traveled quite far. Additionally, there was an empty glass perfume bottle, an old compact with a cracked mirror, and to Seren's delight, some photographs.
She reached in and gently held between her thumb and forefinger the old black and white photograph of two women standing shoulder to shoulder, one tall redhead in a checkered dress and the other brunette in a white blouse.
‘Wow,’ Seren breathed, on the verge of tears, ‘She looks just like my Mam.’
‘Looks like you, too,’ Frankie added. ‘Definitely a relative of yours, that’s for sure.’
Valerie held the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she quickly jotted something down.
‘Oh, yeah we found it, thanks,’ she relayed to Trixie as she put down her pen, ‘What’s in there anyway? Looks like a bunch of what I’m sure are scandalous love letters.’
‘And photographs!’ Seren replied.
‘And some random rubbish,’ Frankie added, picking up the broken compact mirror and looking at it with disinterest.
‘Might not be,’ Seren pouted, ‘Could be important.’
‘Or it could be rubbish.’
Valerie slid a piece of paper across the table before Seren could retort.
‘What’s this?’ Seren asked.
‘Address. Trixie thinks so anyway. Says it’s the last card she got from them a few years back.’ Valerie slowly rose from her spot at the table and made her way over to her recliner, casually continuing her conversation with Trixie, ‘So how are things over there in Kensington? You still delivering babies all these years later, chick?’
Her voice faded into the background as Seren held the coveted slip of paper in her hands. The address definitely said Scotland, which was a relief because she was not prepared to go all the way to Africa.
‘Try looking it up to see if there’s a phone number or something to go with it.’ Frankie suggested, nodding to the slip of paper in Seren's hands. ‘I can get my laptop if that’s easier?’
‘You don’t have to help. I’ve interrupted your evening enough as it is.’
‘Like I have anything else going on,’ they replied, leaving for a moment to come back with a laptop that looked to have seen better days. Frankie opened the thing and then slammed their closed fist down on it, which rather alarmed Seren until the thing buzzed to life.
On her phone Seren looked up the address but the only thing she could successfully pull up was a map to get there from her current location in London.
‘Gran, what was her girlfriend's name again?’
‘Patsy Mount!’ Valerie called from her recliner.
Frankie typed in the name and several answers came up.
‘Try searching Patsy Mount Scotland? What is Patsy short for? Patricia? Maybe Delia Busby Scotland?’
‘You didn’t google Delia before now?’ Frankie asked.
‘Course I did but nothing came up that would suggest any of the other Delia Busby’s out there would be the one I’m looking for.’
‘You sure she’s alive?’
‘No, but I didn’t find any obituaries with her name either.’
Frankie narrowed their eyes and raised an inquiring eyebrow. ‘Delia Mount ?’ they suggested.
Seren scoffed, ‘I highly doubt she would still be with her girlfriend from the ‘60’s, let alone have taken her na-’
‘Found her.’
‘What ?!’
‘Yeah, Delia Mount. Some silly article in her local paper, look.’ Frankie turned their laptop to face Seren and gesticulated to the screen, ‘Looks like she's captain of her bowling team I Can’t Believe It’s Not Gutter.’
Seren snatched the laptop and brought it closer to her, unable to believe her eyes. The woman pictured was older, a bob of grey hair with endearing wrinkles around the eyes to indicate a lifetime of smiles, and certainly those similar features she and all the other women in her family shared. Delia looked healthy and happy dressed in a robin's egg blue and black bowling shirt holding a large first place trophy with the help of her other teammates.
‘That’s her! She’s alive! She… her name. She’s just changed her name! She… The address.’ Seren snatched the slip of paper off the table and tucked it into her pocket, ‘I need to go, I need to go and see her!’
‘Whoa, whoa, wait,’ Frankie rose from their seat, ‘What’s the rush? How are you even going to get there? Too late to take a train that far this time of night. You’d be lucky to make it as far as Cambridge.’
‘’What’s going on? You leaving already?’ Valerie looked over to Seren approaching the front door as she hung up the phone.
‘Listen, don’t worry, I’ll figure something out, I just know I need to-’
‘You haven’t even touched your tea, love.’ Valerie pointed out.
‘Yeah, microwaved that fresh for ya.’ Frankie offered half jokingly.
Seren anxiously ran her fingers through her hair before reaching down to grab her rucksack.
‘Do you even have a place to stay tonight?’ Frankie asked, ‘Did you really just up and come all the way to London without a plan?’
‘Right, like it would be so difficult to find a bloody hotel room.’ Seren huffed and stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, thinking it was not worth losing her temper at these two who had been so hospitable and were only trying to help. ‘I’m sorry. Thank you for your help, Ms. Dyer, and for tea, Frankie. I know I must look ridiculous to you right now but I really need to get to her as quickly as I can.’
Frankie shifted from one foot to the other and placed a hand on their hip. ‘Why?’
Seren sighed. ‘Because… because… time isn’t on my side. I promised my grandfather I would find her before he died to give her the chance to say goodbye if… if she wanted to. Though after everything she’s been through I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t… but… I want to at least give her the chance.’
‘Come’ere, kid,’ Valerie waved her back to the dining room table, ‘Look, I can see you’re eager to get on, but you’ve done enough for one day. It’ll do ya no good to arrive at her doorstep looking like the dead.’
Seren resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
‘Come and eat and rest up here tonight and you can be off refreshed in the morning. You can sleep in Frankie's room. Frankie,’ Valerie swatted the back of her hand against Frankies chest, ‘go and put a fresh set of sheets and pillows on your bed and hide anything you don’t want Seren to see.’
Frankie ignored their gran's smart comment, ‘Right, Gran, but where am I supposed to sleep?’
Valerie waved her hand dismissively, ‘Oh like you don’t pass out in that recliner with the telly on every night. You’ll be fine. Come on Seren, have a seat love.’
The woman patted the chair that Seren had been occupying as Frankie begrudgingly walked off down the hallway.
Seren too begrudgingly let the reasonable side of her brain convince the other side that the two of them had a point, that she would just exhaust herself and crash at some point if she didn’t rest now. She slowly dropped her bag back at her feet and hung her coat up on the rack.
‘Still warm.’ Valerie smiled as she gently pushed the shepherd's pie in front of Seren as she sat down at the table. ‘Frankie made this the other night, you know, good chef that kid.’
Seren slowly nodded, finally picking up her fork and bringing a hearty portion to her mouth. Before she even took a bite the warm scent filled her senses and her mouth was already watering anticipating the savory meal. After swallowing the one bite, she could already feel her restlessness dying down, her sense of contentment and calm wash over her. She took another bite and focused her attention on Valerie, who looked to be happily recanting many happy memories behind her eyes.
‘You know, you being here has brought me right back to when I started working at Nonnatus myself. Different time back then, much different. We’d ride our bicycles all up and down Poplar delivering babies in the nastiest of conditions. Course we did all the work while the men waited outside and played dominoes or kept the other children occupied while we tended to the mothers.’
Behind her, Seren watched as Frankie carried a full hamper of clothes one handed to the kitchen. More noticeable was that they had stripped to a pair of navy boxers with a silly green cartoon cactus print and Seren got a great view of Frankies bare legs as they began to sort through their dirty laundry.
“Absolute, pure dumb luck that I was there to help in an emergency.’
‘That so?’
‘Oh yeah. Just gotten out the army and was pulling pints at me aunts old pub. Black Sail. Happened to be there when there was an explosion at the docks and I stepped in to help another nurse who was there. Juli… no, Shelagh.’ Valerie snapped her fingers as the name came to her.
As Valerie continued, Seren was so enraptured with her stories that she hardly noticed she had eaten just about every last morsel of food in her dish until the unpleasant sound of silverware scraping against ceramic reached her ears. She set her bowl aside and sipped her tea, her eyes landing on Frankie as they leaned against the kitchen counter and cracked open a beer, settling in to listen to their Gran retell all the interesting tales from her time at Nonnatus.