As the smoke swirled and parted I felt that I was looking at the aftermath of a battle. In front of me was the twisted, smoldering wreckage that had once been a train carriage. It appeared to have landed on top of a truck, which was now burning. People were crowding around the wreckage, still trying to extricate those trapped inside. Those who had managed to escape now sat on the curb, holding up handkerchiefs to blood-spattered faces. Others staggered around in a daze, their clothing bloody and burned, while still others lay silent. I couldn’t tell whether they were unconscious or dead and I turned away, shivering.
Find a cab, I told myself. Take a cab to Sid and Gus. They’ll know what to do. They’ll take care of me. I jumped as a hand touched my arm. “Are you all right, ma’am?” a uniformed constable asked me. “You’re as white as a sheet.”
“I was in that carriage that’s still hanging,” I said. “I couldn’t find my baby.”
“Are you sure you’re not hurt? And the little boy?”
“He seems to be unhurt, thank God. I think I’m all right. It hurts me to breathe.”
“I’m thinking we should maybe get you to the hospital,” he said. “Just to be on the safe side. People don’t always recognize that they are injured in an accident, and you’re clearly suffering from shock.”
“Oh, no. I’m sure there are people who need help more than me,” I said.
“Best to have the little guy checked out too,” he said and led me to a waiting ambulance in which several people were already sitting. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him at that point and besides, I did want to make sure that Liam was all right. He was quiet now, his thumb in his mouth as he snuggled against me. I put my hand down to my side and tentatively felt my ribs. A shot of pain made me gasp. A broken rib then, maybe?
The ambulance doors were closed and we lurched as the horses started forward.
“Not exactly doing much to help if we’ve broken bones, is it?” the woman next to me said. She was holding her left wrist and I could see a bone jutting out through the flesh. I shuddered and turned away. The ride seemed to take forever, with bone-shaking jarring and rattling as the horses galloped over cobbles. Then thank God we came to a halt. There were voices outside. The back door opened and we were helped down.
“Where are we?” I asked, hoping to hear that we were at St. Vincent’s, just around the corner from Patchin Place.
“You’re at Roosevelt Hospital, my dear,” said a nurse.
I almost laughed at the irony. Roosevelt Hospital on Tenth Avenue, just down the block from the apartment building where I had started out that morning. Well, at least I could go back home when they released me. The waiting room was full and we sat on hard benches, breathing in the carbolic, antiseptic hospital smell. Finally I’d had enough. I went up to a nurse sitting at the desk. “Look, I’m not at all badly injured,” I said. “And my baby seems to be fine. I think we’ll just go home.”
She looked at me, frowning. “If you really think you’re well enough, of course you can leave. God knows we’ve got enough to do right now.”
“Right. Thank you. I’ll be on my way then,” I said.
I headed for the bright light coming from the doorway, and the next thing I knew my legs buckled under me.
When I opened my eyes I was lying in a cold and narrow bed at one end of a long ward of identical beds. The beds around me seemed to be occupied by other women. Two nurses were standing at the foot of my bed, deep in whispered conversation. I raised my head to look around me. “Liam?” I called out. “What’s happened to my boy?”
“Just lie back and take it easy.” One of the nurses came over to stand beside me. Beneath the white veil she had a fresh red-cheeked face. “The doctor is examining your son right now.” She picked up my wrist and started to take my pulse.
“What happened? Why am I here?”
“You fainted, that’s what. You went into shock, my dear. Quite common after an accident. I’ve sent the orderly for a nice cup of hot tea for you. That’s what you need for shock. Get that down you and you’ll feel a lot better.”
The tea arrived and I drank it, gratefully. Then a doctor came into the ward. “Another accident victim?” he asked, coming up to my bed.
“There’s nothing much wrong with me. I can go home,” I said.
“I’ll be the judge of that, young woman,” he said firmly. “Now, let’s take a look at you.” He took out his stethoscope and listened to my heartbeat. Then his hands moved skillfully over my body. I winced as he touched my side.