She felt like she’d been hit by a…flashes of memory speared through her. The truck. The ball. Jack.
“Oh my God.” Ignoring the pain now, she pushed up to a sitting position, crying out in agony, pausing to take stock and then shoving the light-weight blanket from her lap. Her leg was in a cast.
It didn’t matter. She had just pushed herself off the bed and was trying to catch her balance when the door burst open and two nurses ran in.
They spoke in a foreign language. Italian? Or was she not hearing properly? Her head hurt like the devil and felt half-full of wool or water, it was highly likely she’d done some kind of damage to her brain and could no longer process language properly. She stared at them helplessly, fear tightening around her. Where was Jack?
“My son.” The words barely came out. Her throat was so dry. Tears filled her eyes. She lifted one hand and mimed the action for rocking a baby. “Baby. My baby. Where is he?”
Then, to herself, “Oh, Jack, where are you?”
They stared at her and she could have screamed. What time was it? What day? Where was she? This didn’t look like the Royal, but she could be in a different ward. Presumably she was. The only other time she’d been here was when she’d had Jack.
“Please help me,” she groaned. Panic was making her heart rate soar and her pulse was like an out of control anvil. “Please.”
One of the nurses, a woman in her fifties or sixties with blonde hair and a kind smile, nodded reassuringly, gesturing to the bed. “Sit. We help you.”
“My son,” she rushed, ignoring the suggestion she sit. “Where is he?”
“Jack?”
Relief was dizzying. If this woman knew his name then he must be here, too. “Yes, Jack,” she nodded but the action made her head feel like it was being split down the middle with a samurai sword. “Where is Jack?”
“Ah! Later. He come later.”
Come from where? Where was he? “Now.” She pointed to the floor to be better understood. “I need to see him now.”
The nurse frowned but nodded. “Been. I call.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“Please, you sit now.”
Having ascertained that Jack was somewhere, and within calling range, and that he could be produced, she relaxed a little. Her body was in agony. The first rush of maternal panic had subsided and the pain she’d been conscious of before was so much worse now.
“Okay.” With the help of both nurses, she was helped
into bed and eased back into a prone position carefully. She was grateful to be on her back once more, though the other nurse, a brunette with dark, thickly lashed eyes, pressed the button that lifted the back of the bed a little, so she was half-sitting.
“But please, bring Jack?”
“Si, si, subito.”
The blonde nurse disappeared and the brunette stayed just long enough to run through a series of medical tests, which included shining a bright light in Elodie’s eyes so she winced a little.
“Bene.” The nurse smiled approvingly before she too left the room.
The mystery deepened. She had no idea where she was, or how long she’d been here. Surely only a day or two? Where had Jack been? God, how terrible. She could vaguely recall the look on his face as the impact of the truck had sent her flying, and he’d stared at her with his mouth wide and tears in his eyes and she’d prayed that she wouldn’t die, that he wouldn’t have to live his life without his mother – she knew that pain so well.
But then it was all a blur. She could remember certain things. The ambulance ride. The smell of the hospital. Then nothing. Wait, there was something pushing at her memory, but it was like trying to catch a fish with her bare hands. She could feel an experience or memory but not bring it to the front of her mind.
Her head felt so groggy. Nothing made sense.
She closed her eyes, not intending to sleep, but the next thing she knew, she was being woken by the sound of the door swinging open. She blinked her eyes open right as Jack ran into the room, and he was so handsome, so beautifully dressed, that tears filled her eyes – tears of utter relief to see that he was so well cared for, so happy.
“Oh, darling.” She reached her good hand out, but he ignored it, hurtling himself up and onto the bed with his formidable strength and bigger-than-average frame. His body collided with ribs which must surely be broken because she cried out instinctively.
“Careful, Jack. Your mother is not recovered yet.”