“You fainted. Most dramatic. Went down like a tree,” Miss Hetherington said. She was kneeling beside me. It had been her smelling salts that had revived me and she now held her handkerchief to my forehead, where I had apparently struck it as I fell. “Nasty knock on the head too. That will need to be cleaned up.”
“There’s a train in an hour and a half,” I said.
“Sit here.” Miss Hetherington dragged me onto the bench and said, “Keep this handkerchief pressed to the cut. I don’t think you should be going anywhere in an hour and half. Utter folly.”
“Quite right,” Miss Pinkerton agreed. “You are in no condition to travel to Paris today. Your son needs to see a doctor. You need to get that cut seen to and we don’t want you passing out again. We’ll find you a room in a hotel nearby and you can stay there until you are sufficiently recovered.”
“But I’ll be all right if you can help me onto the train,” I protested. “You’ll be coming to Paris, won’t you?”
“Actually not,” Miss Hetherington said. “Since three of us have been so affected by the crossing we decided we should recuperate here before embarking on a long train journey. We’ll take you to a pension with us. You can send a telegram to your friends explaining that you have been delayed. Now stay there. I will locate a vehicle for us.”
And off she went, striding out toward the waiting line of carriages.
I was too weak to resist because I knew in my heart that she was right. The ground still swayed and my head was now throbbing like billy-o. I thought I might be sick again. Liam whined and wanted to come to me.
“Mommy is resting,” Miss Pinkerton said, holding onto him firmly. “She’ll be fine in a minute. Just be a good boy.”
The women were wonderful. Although they only spoke a few words of French they managed with gestures and sheer determination to have us loaded into a large open carriage and taken to a pension on the waterfront. Miss Hetherington inspected the rooms and pronounced them clean if simple and unadorned. I was half dragged up the stairs. Someone else brought my bags and I was placed in a small room with shutters half closed. Already exhausted by this amount of activity, I lay back gratefully with Liam beside me. They then had the proprietor summon a doctor and gave me pen and paper to draft a telegram to Sid and Gus. I wrote, Delayed in Le Havre. Unwell. Pension Bellevue. Will travel as soon as able.
Off went the stalwart Miss Hetherington to have this sent to Paris. Miss Pinkerton stayed with me while the other women went for a stroll along the seafront. A doctor arrived and pronounced Liam on the road to recovery but instructed me to confine his diet to breast milk and boiled sugar water to give his stomach time to heal. Then he patched up my head, and recommended that I get plenty of good nourishing food and fresh air. It would be foolish and dangerous to think of continuing my journey until I was stronger, he said, wagging a finger at me. To do so might put me and my child in danger of a relapse. Then he gave me a prescription for a tonic and bid me adieu.
I lay in my narrow bed, feeling like a limp rag and so glad that I was not facing an almost three-hour train journey. I don’t think I could have sat upright for that long. The proprietress came in with a tray of fresh rolls and peppermint tea. I sipped the tea, managed a whole roll, and felt a little stronger. Liam nursed, then fell asleep beside me. I lay back too, feeling the fresh sea air coming in through the shutters.
I awoke to Liam crawling over me in an attempt to escape from the bed. My head still throbbed but my stomach felt less queasy; in fact, I felt a little hungry. I stood up, held onto the wall because the ground still swayed, then made my way across to the window and pushed open the shutters. Below me was a glorious scene. The sun sparkled on blue water. Red-sailed fishing boats were bobbing in the harbor. Fishermen in bright blue smocks were unloading their catch on the dock. The air resounded to the cries of seagulls. Two young children walked past wearing a local costume and wooden shoes. It was all so picturesque and so foreign.
“Look Liam,” I said, picking him up. “We’re in France.”