A Beginning - a Patsy/Delia Call The Midwife fanfic

Chapter 2

The next few days were crammed full of lectures, exams, long shifts and surly patients at the hospital; Patsy barely had time to eat. But as she lay in bed each night, utterly exhausted, her thoughts would drift to Delia: wondering how her day had been, if she was getting enough sleep, if she was thinking about her at all. Then she would rub her face and groan.

You’re being ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous.

When she finally had an afternoon free, she stopped by Delia's room but there was no answer to her knock.

"Are you looking for Delia?"

Patsy turned to see a plump redhead walking down the hall. "I am, yes."

"I passed her heading toward the park about 15 minutes ago."

Patsy was moving before she had tossed a polite "thank you" over her shoulder.

As she hurriedly rounded a large, neatly pruned hedge, she spotted Delia sitting on a bench; actually, it was their bench. Her steps faltered and she paused to simply observe: Delia sat with a book in her lap, completely oblivious to the world moving around her as silky dark tendrils fluttered in the breeze. She licked a finger before turning a page. Whatever she read brought a hint of a smile. 

Voices in the distance got Patsy's feet moving.

When her shadow fell over Delia and her book, Patsy crossed her arms and tried to sound stern. "I believe you are in my spot."

Carefully closing the book, Delia squinted at the figure above her. "Yes, I know. It seemed to work out well for you. So I thought I would try it for a bit." She gestured a hand toward Patsy, "and here you stand."

Patsy smirked. "Care for a cup of tea, Ms. Busby?"

"Always, Ms. Mount."

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Delia poured tea for them both, looking expectantly at Patsy with her hand hovering over the milk and sugar.

"Just a splash of milk...a bit more. Perfect. Thank you." Pulling the cup across the table, Patsy stirred slowly and spoke softly. "Tell me something about yourself. Something no one else in London knows."

Delia pondered the question for a moment while she prepared her own tea, then leaned in, dramatically whispering "I hate needles."

Patsy barked a laugh, covering her mouth in apologetic embarrassment when other patrons in the tea shop flashed annoyed glances at them. Head bowed, she looked up sheepishly, afraid she had hurt Delia’s feelings by laughing at her fear. But Delia simply grinned at her. Patsy tipped her head, eyes squinting with suspicion, "Are you having a go?"

Taking a sip of her tea, Delia shook her head. "No, I'm completely serious."

"I'm afraid you may be going into the wrong field."

Delia waved a hand in the air, "Oh, I can stick needles in other people all day long without flinching, I just don’t want them...you know...in me."

Patsy chuckled. "I see."

"What about you?"

"I...cannot...swim." She punctuated each word with a tap of a finger on the handle of her cup.

"Are you afraid of water?" The look on her face showed that Delia was genuinely curious.

"No, I just never learned. It wasn't proper when I was younger, and then..." she shrugged. "It didn't really matter once I got older."