the warmth of his smile, all brought a shiver to my spine. The pavement was too crowded, and most of the people, as is always the case in London city centre, appeared to be in a massive hurry.
As soon as the lights changed the crowd surged forwards. The first wave of people rushed across the road.
I don’t know what happened. One minute I was about to step off the pavement the next I was being jostled. I lost my footing, stumbled, and time seemed to slow down. I saw a bird fly overhead, a pigeon wheeling in the sky as though it were about to dive in a suicidal swoop towards the ground. Horns blared. I heard a female voice cry out. And then – a hand pressed into my back. As though someone had reached out to stop me, or perhaps also lost their footing, and then I fell forwards, unable to stop myself – right into the bus lane.
‘Charlotte?’
A rush of sound filled my ears, like air whipping through the branches of a tree. A screech of brakes. Then I heard Tom’s angry voice, ‘What the fuck is this, Char?’
I opened my eyes and looked up into Isadora’s concerned face.
‘Tom! Quickly! She’s awake!’
Tom’s face came into blurred view. He had a deep frown on his normally smooth brow.
‘Char. Darling …’
‘Where am I?’ I croaked.
I felt as though I’d been in a serious battle with a heavyweight boxer. I had another flash – a memory – of Tom’s flustered, angry face as he had stared at the sheets in my hands. I don’t understand why you’re so cross. It’s just new bedding!
‘Have some water,’ Isadora offered, and before I could agree or refuse a straw was pushed into my mouth. ‘You’re in A & E.’
I sipped the water and it did ease my throat.
‘What happened?’ I asked.
I was in some kind of booth with a curtain drawn around us.
‘You were … you had an accident,’ Tom said. ‘You fell. In front of a bus.’
I had another flashback then, of the double-decker tourist bus, brakes screeching, as it careered towards me. I shuddered. I didn’t remember the vehicle hitting me or anything else after that moment. Just this sense of freefalling as I fell onto the road. I remember getting back up off the ground seconds before the bus hit me. I was thrown aside, cracking my head on the kerb.
‘You were lucky,’ said Isadora.
‘Lucky?’ said Tom. ‘What on earth were you doing crossing the road like that?’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘A witness said you just ran out. Without looking,’ Tom said.
‘No. That isn’t what happened. I walked out, with a group of people. One of them … jostled me. Or maybe they tripped and pushed me …’
‘You’re saying someone pushed you?’ asked Tom, and there was something about his expression that made me go quiet for a moment. I thought it through and decided I couldn’t be sure what had actually happened and so it was best not to commit.
‘No … It was raining. I slipped, stupid high heels I guess. Then, I got up and the bus—’
‘It’s okay, dear,’ said Isadora. ‘Rest up.’
‘Am I … injured?’ I asked.
‘The doctor says you have concussion. You’ll have to stay in overnight,’ Tom said.
‘But … the baby?’
‘That’s all okay, dear,’ Isadora said.
I closed my eyes tight. Tears leaked out of the corners anyway.
‘There, there. It’s all going to be okay. But you’ll have to be careful for a few days,’ Isadora cooed.
I drifted back to sleep as their voices floated down with me.
‘You see,’ said Isadora. ‘What a silly thing to assume she did it on purpose.’
‘Yes, Mother. It’s just … a witness told the police.’
I awoke in a white room, disorientated and scared. And then I realized I must have been moved from the A & E department. I looked to my left, saw the mandatory monitors. I wasn’t hooked up to anything though. I raised my hand to my face; I had the headache of all headaches.
I’d hit the floor on this side and my arm had borne the brunt of my weight: it was a mass of bruises. Yes, I’d been lucky. This could have been so much worse. At least I hadn’t broken anything. I put my hand on my stomach. Was the baby really okay?
I tried to sit up, but the headache brought on a bout of nausea. I looked around for a receptacle of any kind; instead I found the nurse’s call button. I pressed it, swallowing back bile and gagging on it.
A nurse hurried in; she reached for a paper bowl, helped me sit and held it under my chin. I vomited until my stomach wrenched.
When the nausea passed, I flopped back down on the bed.
‘It’s normal in your condition,’ said the nurse. ‘Plus with a head injury like that …’
My throat seized up and I couldn’t talk.
‘Don’t worry. You’re in safe hands. Your husband moved you here to recuperate. Got to look after your precious cargo after all!’
I learnt that I had been moved to a private hospital. It seemed impossible that I had been so unconscious that I hadn’t realized, but it had happened and now I was being looked after with the best possible attention.
The doctor came in.
‘All is well, Mrs Carlisle, with your pregnancy. But that head injury was quite severe. Hence why we are looking after you for a few days.’
‘A few days?’ I queried. ‘The A & E doctor said I only needed an overnight stay.’
‘Well, I’m a specialist in this area. I feel we need to monitor you longer.’
Like the other controlling elements in my life, the doctor shot me down with his better knowledge.
I woke up three days later and opened the window to look out on the grounds. I was stronger today, ready to return home and escape the watchful eyes of the nurse. I had barely been permitted to walk to the en suite bathroom without a nurse beside me over the past few days. But gradually the head injury had improved. I was eating better now and even the morning sickness had subsided.
The nurse had told me to eat something in the mornings before I got out of
