“You had the most marvelous insights, Gus,” Sid said. “Even some of the professors were impressed. They realized you brought a fresh new perspective to their research—an American woman’s perspective.”
Gus looked highly embarrassed about all this praise. “That’s kind of you to say, but shouldn’t we be concentrating on the reason for which we are here?”
“We should,” Mrs. Mitchum said. “You have heard, I take it, that the suffragist movement has a new leader. Mrs. Catt has had to step down, or has been forcibly replaced, I’m not sure which, by Mrs. Anna Howard Shaw. Although I can’t say I’m overjoyed by this choice. I think her approach will be too cautious, and the time for caution is past.”
“That’s just what I’ve been saying,” Sid said. “We have tried to persuade gently and it is not working. We have to shake up society and make people listen to us.”
“Quite right,” Mrs. Hamilton said.
But that was about as far as the group could agree. One person’s idea of forceful behavior was another’s idea of militancy. I sat there while the arguments raged across me and was suddenly overcome with weariness. I stood up and begged to be excused.
“Of course, Molly dear,” Gus said. “I think it’s very courageous of you to be with us at all after your ordeal.” She turned to the others. “Mrs. Sullivan was in that terrible train wreck yesterday, can you believe.”
There was instant sympathy. “Not in that carriage that plunged to the ground, surely?” Mrs. Mitchum said.
“No, luckily I was in the one behind it. We came off the rails but were left hanging over the side, lodged against an adjacent building.”
“Even so she was taken to hospital with cracked ribs and a bump on her head the size of an onion,” Sid said.
“My poor dear young woman, then off to bed at once with you,” Mrs. Hamilton said. “You should not be up and around at all. It’s important to rest after an ordeal like yours. It’s not just the physical injury; it’s the matter of shock. The damage from shock can be quite profound, as I’ve just found out. We have our niece with us who has been through a trauma of her own and is still not fully recovered.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Mitchum said. “What sort of trauma was it?”
“A house fire. Her parents were burned to death. She was lucky to get out alive.” She shook her head. “But she is young, she is resilient. She will recover with time and loving care.”
I left them and dragged my aching body up the stairs. I found myself feeling overwhelmed with tonight’s chatter, with the imminent arrival of my mother-in-law, and with what had happened to me. I lay there, listening to the animated voices floating up from the open windows of the conservatory. Much as I agreed with their cause, I found it hard to be an active participant when I had more serious things occupying me. I wouldn’t be able to rest properly until the man who was sending notes to Daniel was finally apprehended.
I lay back and tried to sleep, but Gus’s words on dreams kept buzzing around my head. Were my dreams of a dark and confined space only reflecting what I had experienced in the train crash yesterday, or did they mean something deeper? Could they mean that I felt confined by my marriage? On such disturbing thoughts I finally drifted off to sleep.
Ten
The next day when I awoke, my first thought was that it was Liam’s birthday. My son was now a one-year-old. Then I realized I had no present, no cake, nothing to celebrate with. I told myself that Liam didn’t know when his birthday was, so it would make more sense to wait until we were safely moved back into our house and … “Holy Mother of God,” I muttered, sitting up so rapidly that I felt a shot of pain from those ribs. Today my mother-in-law arrives. I’d have no time for birthday plans, even if I felt well enough to bake a cake. I knew she was coming to look after me, but there was still so much to be done to make the house fit for a guest. I washed and dressed with rapidity and went across the street to my house. The beds had been delivered from Sloane’s, and Sid and Gus brought over armloads of sheets, pillows, and counterpanes to make up beds for Daniel’s mother as well as for Daniel and me. Liam’s crib was being brought down from the apartment, along with the other items we’d been using, but I was leaving that to Daniel.
“Poor old Liam,” I said, watching him sitting and playing with Sid’s stuffed bear. “It’s his birthday and we’ve nothing for him.”
“I thought you agreed we’d have a proper celebration when you were feeling better and installed properly in your house,” Gus said. “And we haven’t had time to buy presents yet either.”