Chapter Text
Delia leant back against the cool of the hospital wall, and tried to steady herself. It was green-the same green colour that they always used in hospitals, she considered. She glanced down at her uniform, also green, and paled at the sight of the blood spattered on her right cuff. ‘Come on Busby, keep it together’ she muttered to herself. Delia wasn’t technically on a break; she knew that she had to go back into the waiting area to meet a new patient, all smiles, all positivity, but what she’d just seen back there had been too much.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t dealt with situations like this before. For God’s sake, this was her final year of training, she’d assisted in countless scenes just like this one. But the decision to transfer to The London had had a knock-on effect. Delia had known it would be different. Cardiff may have been a capital city; there was no denying it had taken some getting used to after the quietude of Pembrokeshire, but everything was bigger and better in London. The hustle and bustle was so much that Delia felt like she was experiencing sensory overload. Amongst the cars and buses, the crush of people, everything seemed somewhat more. Even the white lights of the emergency room seemed impossibly brighter.
The man had been in his late twenties, a good five years older than her, for sure. He’d come off his motorbike at a crossroads, and Delia had been one of the nurses who received the stretcher when he came in. She’d gone into autopilot after that, running down the corridor alongside him, as the man had been wheeled into surgery. Fuck. All she could think of was the blood still drying along his hairline as the surgeon pronounced him dead by the time on his watch.
Balling her shaking hands into fists, she pulled herself upright and hurried down the corridor to the changing room. Opening her locker, she pulled a clean pile of uniform from the top shelf and stripped quickly, turning her back as a gaggle of giggling nurses came in, bags swinging, probably just coming on shift. Wadding up the old uniform, she moved past the others and headed back along the corridor to the sluice, where she deposited it for washing. Then, putting on her brave face, she returned to the foyer of Accident and Emergency, to complete the rest of her gruelling shift.
~
Later, sitting with Barbara in the staff canteen, Delia pushed the limp excuse for food around the plastic tray. Barbara was obviously worried, clearing her throat gently as she opened her mouth. ‘Are you sure you’re alright Delia? You’re terribly quiet.’
Delia attempted a weak smile, lifting her chin to meet Barbara’s concerned eyes. She was a good friend, Barbara. All of the other trainees here had clearly formed friendships long ago, and, transferring in the final year of her medical training, Delia hadn’t really expected to meet any strong allies. She’d bumped into Barbara in a corridor one day though; Delia had been carrying a heap of linen that reached up above her eye-line, and in the collision Barbara had dropped the box of samples she’d been carrying. Delia had crouched down, apologising profusely, and helped her to package up the little plastic phials once again. Barbara, instead of getting annoyed and glaring as Delia had expected, had smiled and chuckled, thanking her for her help, before asking her where her accent was from.
‘I’m from Wales, Pembrokeshire, to be exact’ Delia had smiled back. ‘I just transferred to The London actually’ she paused for a moment, ‘and a right pig’s ear I’m making of it!’
Barbara had laughed again, before smiling sympathetically. ‘I know what it’s like to be far away from home. I live in Liverpool!’ she’d replied enthusiastically. After finding out that they were both in their last year of training, Barbara had insisted they exchange numbers, and, a few weeks later, Delia felt as though she truly had a friend here.
She was drawn out of her reverie by Barbara dangling an arm in front of her face. ‘Delia? Delia! Gosh, you really don’t look okay. Good job your shift’s over. I think you should go straight home.’
Delia looked up, attempting another smile and failing. ‘You know I think you’re right Babs, today’s done me in’. She stood up and lifted her untouched tray ‘I’ll text you later?’
Barbara looked relieved. ‘Yes, of course. See you later Delia. And get some sleep!’
Returning to the lockers to pick up her stuff, Delia glanced in the mirror on the wall. Jesus. The usual rosy hue of her cheeks was gone, replaced by the palest and unhealthiest looking colour possible, that Delia was inclined to call grey. Sighing, she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and made her way out of the hospital. She used the staff exit at the back of the ground floor, avoiding eye contact with the other nurses who stood around the other side of the double doors, taking their cigarette breaks. It was only then that Delia realised she really didn’t feel quite right. Everything around her seemed to be moving in slow motion and she felt unbearably hot. Grappling at her collar to give herself some room to breathe, Delia became aware of the other hospital staff gradually turning to look at her. Shit. Maybe she looked worse than she’d realised. Just as she attempted to smile reassuringly at them, to quicken her pace and get herself as far away from the A and E entrance as possible, she stumbled. Biting down hard on her lip as she struggled hopelessly to pull herself together, she felt herself go. Down she fell, all of her thoughts falling away to nothing as she connected with the concrete of the pavement.
Ouch. Delia groaned as she tried to sit up, pain arcing from the back of her head right to her temples. It felt like the worst migraine ever. ‘Oh no you don’t’ said a confident voice. The voice-Delia couldn’t open her eyes fully to see who it belonged to at present-was deep, low, and plummy. The woman had the sort of accent that Delia would have mocked, had she been in a better mood. Honestly, she sounded as though she was straight out of boarding school, or an Enid Blyton story, and anyway, they went to boarding school in those didn’t they? Delia realised, as she finally opened her eyes more than a fraction of an inch, that this mysterious woman had a hand resting underneath her head. She shivered a little. She could feel the softness of her cool fingertips resting there. With great effort, Delia looked upwards at the woman sitting patiently above her. The sight of her was enough to take Delia’s breath away once again.
‘Patience Mount. Obstetrics’ the woman supplied for Delia, suddenly the model of politeness and decorum, extending the unoccupied of her perfectly manicured hands. Delia, mesmerised, evidently didn’t respond quickly enough because the woman, Patience, smiled apologetically and awkwardly pulled back her outstretched arm. Delia couldn’t help but stare. This woman was beautiful. She was possibly the single most beautiful thing Delia had ever seen, in the whole of her twenty-two years. Her titian hair was perfectly offset by the near translucence of her alabaster skin. Now her eyes were fully open, Delia observed that when she looked closely, a trace of freckles, barely visible, ran across the woman’s cheeks. The discovery of this led to Delia's looking further up the woman’s face, until she came to be gazing into a pair of strikingly blue eyes. They were intoxicating, thought Delia. The sort of eyes you could get lost in.
Seconds later, Delia started as she realised she'd done just that. This time making a better job managing to sit up, she remembered her manners. ‘Oh God. I’m so sorry. Did I just faint on you?’
Patience smiled then, reassuringly, offering a hand to help Delia to her feet. Her immaculately pinned back hair contrasted with the green of her scrubs, Delia noticed. ‘Well, actually, I didn’t quite make it in time for you to faint on me’ Patience replied. ‘I felt that I probably owed you enough to make sure you at least came round okay.’ She grinned down at her from what Delia was certain was at least half an inch above her diminutive frame.
‘I really am sorry’ said Delia earnestly. ‘I had a bit of a day of it. I work in A and E, you see’.
Patience smiled again. ‘Say no more. I did a stint in the emergency room in training. Awful business’, she shuddered, ‘it definitely wasn’t for me’, then, ‘sorry, I just realised I didn’t catch your name’.
Delia smiled back at her then. God, she really did warm to this intimidatingly posh, slightly awkward woman. ‘It’s Delia, Delia Busby. I’ve just transferred here from Cardiff to finish my training’.
‘Well Delia Busby. I hope to see you around here some time again. Hopefully not collapsed on the tarmac however’. She glanced at her watch. Expensive, Delia noted. ‘Gosh, I really must get back to the ward, I was only supposed to come out here for a quick cigarette’. So she smoked, thought Delia. Not a desirable habit in her eyes, but then again, it wasn’t like she could talk considering her own choice of recreational activities.
‘Of course. Thank you so much for this, Patience, I’m so sorry to cut into your day like this’.
To her confusion, Patience began to chuckle then. ‘Oh God, I introduced myself as Patience. Some habits die hard I suppose. No one really calls me that anymore. It’s Patsy. And are you sure you’ll be alright getting home? I can call you a cab?’.
Delia cocked her head to one side. Patsy. She liked that. ‘Honestly, you’ve done more than enough. I owe you a drink or something’. She ducked her head then, shyly, wondering if she’d been too bold. Patsy looked a little nervous, but smiled back easily half a second later.
‘Sounds good. Bye Delia’ she began to walk hurriedly back into the hospital, turning around for one more quick glance in Delia’s direction. Delia just stood there and stared for a good five minutes before she eventually jolted out of her trance and went to collect her bike, to ride home.
~
That evening, after a hot meal and having scrubbed the worst of the day off her with the best part of a bottle of lemon scented shower gel, Delia checked on her phone to a text from Barbara:
'You get home okay?'
'Actually passed out outside the ward'
'Oh God! Really?! I feel awful Delia, I should have taken you home myself'
'It was okay Babs, I met this doctor out there. She helped me up'
Delia paused, debating whether or not to send the next message. Who was she kidding though? She had to know if there was the slightest chance.
'Actually, I think you might work in the same department Barbara'
'Oh really? What does she look like? Did you get a name?'
'Tall. Striking. Beautiful red hair. Oh and Patsy, Patsy Mount I think'
Delia rolled her eyes at herself. ‘I think’. Who was she kidding, she’d remembered, and a couple of Facebook searches later she’d found her mysterious helper. Patsy had pretty high privacy settings, but the profile photo alone was enough to confirm the identity of the gorgeous redhead Delia hadn’t been able to stop thinking about all day. She jumped then, as her phone buzzed with another text from Barbara.
'Oh God! Dr Mount! She’s my supervisor Delia! She oversees my training on the ward'
Fuck. So Barbara knew this woman. Delia couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She wondered if it was possible to come across nonchalant over text message.
'Oh? What a coincidence! What’s she like?'
Delia watched and waited, holding in a breath as Barbara typed back to her. A very available massive lesbian would be just great Babs.
'Honestly Delia, I’m surprised she helped you up at all. She’s so brusque. I mean, she’s great at what she does, but she’s positively terrifying to work under. Anyway, I’d better go to bed. I’m on an early tomorrow. Feel better! Xx'
Delia stared at the screen confused. Barbara’s description definitely didn’t seem to match the woman she had met, and practically asked out for a drink, but then again, she had just fainted. Maybe she’d imagined how carefully Patsy had cupped her head in her hand, the electricity she could swear she felt zipping through her body when their fingers had touched, the surreptitious look over her shoulder Patsy had given as she walked back into the hospital. Delia sighed then. Oh well. The London was so much bigger than Cardiff General. It was unlikely she’d ever see Patsy again anyway.
(to be continued)