The Address(71)

“It’s okay. Take it slow, though. Don’t rush to conclusions.”

Was he talking about their friendship or their findings?

Either way, caution had never been her strong point.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO



New York City, July 1885


Sara opened her eyes. It was dark outside, and while the pain had subsided briefly, she knew it would be back. During the lull, she tried to take in where she was. The room wasn’t in the Charity Hospital, she was sure of that. The bed was hard and the blanket rough and she didn’t see any other women in the throes of childbirth. The only other woman in the room, an old lady with a vacant stare and no teeth, got up and turned her back to squat over a waste pail, singing an off-key dirge about the devil. She was still in the asylum.

The evening turned to day and back into evening, and Sara fought for breath and life and pushed. The nurses for the most part ignored her. When one loomed over her with a grim mouth, Sara grabbed her wrist.

“I need to be taken to the Charity Hospital to have the baby. To the ward with unwed mothers.”

“What do you know about that?” The nurse pulled out of her grip. “In any event, they don’t take crazies there. You’d disturb the rest of them.”

“I wouldn’t, I know that’s where I belong. Ask Nurse Alden.”

“You’ve been saying that the entire time you’ve been here. Enough, luv. You checked in here as a Mrs. Smythe. That place is for unwed mothers.”

She would have laughed if her situation weren’t so dire. “It’s too early to have the baby, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know anything about that. You’ll have to ask the doctor.”

Just then a wave of pain swept over her and she forgot about everything except the muscles and nerves in her body, straining in a way that seemed physically impossible.

Finally, the doctor arrived. Two nurses flanked him. The man was young, with bright blue eyes that darted around the room, taking everything in. He was from the outside and practically smelled of fear.

A nurse pointed at Sara. “She started up last night; we didn’t know she was with child.”

“How could you not know?” The doctor sat on the edge of her bed and took out a stethoscope, which he placed against her belly. A rush of embarrassment was replaced by a sense of hope. Perhaps he could help.

“She didn’t tell us nothing. We can’t keep track of everyone in here, all sixteen hundred.”

“Can she speak?” He glanced up at the nurses.

Thankfully, she was in between contractions. “I can speak, Doctor.”

He looked down at her, startled. “You’re English?”

He had a familiar accent of his own. “And you’re Welsh.”

“Indeed. Now, why didn’t you tell anyone about your predicament?”

Another cramp threatened and she winced in pain.

“Get her some water, please.” The nurses moved on his command.

“I didn’t know what they’d do to me.”

“Rather a ghastly place here, no?”

“Yes. I was hoping I could be taken to the Charity Hospital on the island, the ward for unwed mothers.”

“You don’t have a husband?”

“No.” Her cheeks grew warm from shame. How far she’d fallen.

“Why were you put here in the asylum?”

“I’m not sure. They said I was acting funny, that I stole something. But I don’t remember doing it. I was with child at the time; maybe my mind wasn’t right from that.”

She should never have mentioned the theft. He straightened his spine. “I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m afraid it’s too late to go to the hospital. You’ll have to have the baby here.”

“It’s so early. I didn’t think it would come until August.”

The cramp increased until she couldn’t think or speak. “Please don’t go yet,” she whispered. Tears of self-pity poured down her cheeks. “What will happen to the baby after?”

“I don’t know. This is my first week and I’m not sure how it all works just yet. But don’t worry about any of that right now. You need to keep your strength up so that you can deliver the baby.” He stood.

“Where are you from in Wales?” She didn’t want him to go just yet.

“Swansea.”

“Is it lovely? It sounds lovely.”

“It’s by the sea.”

“Do you miss it?” She clenched her teeth, trying to keep them from chattering.

“That’s enough talk. I’ll check on that water for you.”

“Please don’t go. Please. Please help me.”

He nodded. “I’ll do everything I can.”

After he strode away, she burst into sobs. She’d been doing so well for herself, in charge of her own life, running a giant building and its staff, and now she was helpless, trapped in a terrible place with no way out, nothing but pain and anguish pulsating around her. The kind manner of the doctor only served to remind her of all that she’d lost.

“Stop wailing.” The nurses had returned. One lifted up her head and poured water into her mouth from a dirty tin cup, not caring that it spilled around the sides and dribbled down her chin and neck.