Dickens and Me

CHAPTER FOUR
(copyright Anita Birt)
"Are you all right?" A woman ran towards Caroline.
"I'm not sure." Caroline rubbed her arm. "I think so." She unbuckled her bike helmet and dropped it on the grass. Her nose twitched. "What's that smell?"
"Burning oil. The engine's a mess. The car's a write-off."
"Take her over to the road." A man shouted. "We've got to get the kids out of the car."
The woman grasped Caroline's arm. "Come on.
"Ouch!"
The woman let go. `
"Are you hurt?"
"Not much. Grass burns from falling off my bike, I guess. Scrapes and bruises."
"That car almost hit you."
"All I remember is it coming at me. Where's my bike?"
"Over there beside the car."
"What about the people in the car? Is anyone hurt?" The mist fogging Caroline's head cleared.
"Forget them. You've had a bad fall. Come sit with me and wait for the ambulance."
"I'm a doctor. I've got to help." She limped back to the wreck where men gathered around the vehicle. It lay on the grass helpless as a turtle tipped upside down on its shell. The tires had stopped spinning.
"Let's right it." One of them yelled.
From the look of the damaged doors and shattered rear window Caroline feared the worst. "I'm a doctor. Let me through."
The men stood aside to let her pass. She knelt down and peered into the car through an open window.
The driver hung over the bent steering wheel. Blood oozed from a cut on the side of his head. A girl grabbed at the wheel and tried to climb over him.
"Get me out." She screamed. "Get me out of this fucking car."
"Don't move. Stay where you are." Caroline ordered. "We'll get you out."
A boy about eight edged around the back seat, clutching his jeans, a wet stain darkened the fabric. Tears trickled down his cheeks. "Am I gonna die?" His bleary eyes focused on Caroline. "That's my brother. Is he gonna die?"
"I don't think so. The men are going to fix the car so we can help you."
Caroline got out of the way as the men positioned themselves around the wreck.
"Be careful." She urged the men nearest her.
"Okay, let's do it. Easy now. Don't want to shake up the kids inside."
With men at the front, back and side, they heaved the car and set it down gently on its tires.
"Anyone got a fire extinguisher?" A man shouted. He crouched down by the engine and glanced under the car. "Don't like this. Hot oil dripping Grass is smoldering."
Caroline twisted the handle on the damaged driver side door. It was solidly stuck. Although the window was open she couldn't risk having the men drag the driver through. He could have serious internal injuries.
"Let me check on the driver."
"Out of the way, doctor." A giant of a man in a faded checked work shirt appeared with a sledge hammer. "I'll break the hinges."
Two heavy blows and the hinges snapped. The man dropped the hammer and grasped the door. "Beat up old rust bucket. This'll be easy."
He twisted the metal back and forth. With a wrenching crunch the door broke away. He tossed it aside. "What about the back?"
"Wait until I check on the driver."
"Get me out." The girl screamed scrambled over him.
Caroline pushed the girl out of the way. "Stay where you are. Don't move until I tell you to."
The girl crouched against the other door, angry eyes fixed on Caroline. "I'll report you. You hurt me," she snarled
Caroline ignored her and worked on the driver as best she could without moving him. His breathing seemed stable. She checked his pulse. Elevated but steady.
Relief coursed through her. Probably knocked out or drunk. The car reeked of alcohol. No seatbelts. The kids must've rolled around like tennis balls inside the clunker.
"Take out the other door." She nodded at the giant. He swung the hammer twice and the door popped off its hinges. The boy scrambled to freedom.
"I'm outa here." The girl grabbed a pink plastic purse off the seat and bolted out of the car.
"Let me have a look at you," Caroline tried to stop her.
"No!" She stumbled and fell on her knees.
"I'll look after her, doctor. You've done enough." The giant scooped the girl into his arms and walked to the roadside, followed by the boy.
Had she done enough? Even with help she couldn't get the driver out without injuring him further. As she leaned into the car, taking the driver's pulse a second time an ambulance, sirens wailing, pulled up. Two paramedics ran towards her.
Suddenly tired, her legs wobbled. "I'm Dr. Balfour. We got the doors off the car. I didn't want to move the driver."

Greg sauntered over to the booth to buy sodas for Jenna and John. Lights flashing, sirens howling, vehicles roared past on the highway. Ambulance and police, he thought.
A car drove in and parked behind the booth.
"What's going on?" Greg asked.
"Bad accident not a quarter mile from here. A woman on a bike hit by a car. Car's a wreck."
Greg's heart plummeted. "What about the woman?"
"Don't know. The cops are keeping the traffic moving."
"Where did it happen?"
"By the cut-off to Fisher's Corners."
Greg whistled for Kim. Must be Dr. Balfour on her way home. Had to be her. "Let's go." He seized Kim's leash and ran the short distance down the side road. A police car and an ambulance hurtled past on the highway. Seconds later a fire truck. Must be bad.
Greg slowed his pace slightly. He'd just spoken to her. She couldn't be...No.
He had to find out if she'd been badly hurt. He might have to identify her...nausea crawled in his stomach.
Not her body. Please God, not that. He had plans to get to know her better.
Plans. God laughs when people make plans. Some wit had coined the phrase. She had to be okay. Her patients needed her. He didn't need her. But might.
He jogged down the road with Kim on a running leash. He approached the accident scene. Cars lined both sides of the road.
A police officer stood in the middle of the highway waving cars past the scene. A third ambulance arrived. Three ambulances and a fire engine. Another police car.
"Keep back!" An officer shouted at the gawking crowd. "We've got injured people here. It's not a bloody circus."
Tall enough to see over the crowd Greg craned his neck. Firefighters sprayed foam under the wrecked car. A woman wrapped in a blanket sat on the grass a few feet from the edge of the ditch.
Greg blinked to clear his eyes. It was her. He recognized her hair. A firefighter spoke to her. She nodded. He walked past the car and returned with her bike. A police officer helped her up, slipped her arm around Caroline's waist and assisted her to a cruiser. The firefighter stowed her bike in the trunk.
Greg drew in a deep breath. She was alive and on her feet. He had to speak to her. He pushed through the crowd. Hackles raised Kim growled clearing the way.
"Get back." An officer pointed at Greg. "I mean you."
"I have to speak with Dr. Balfour."
"You know her?"
Greg nodded. "She just left the lake. She'd gone in for a soda."
He waved Greg to the cruiser. "Constable Evans is driving her home. Be quick."
The passenger side window was open. "Hi Caroline, it's me, Greg Fraser. Anything I can do?"
She hugged the blanket around her shoulders. "No. I'm okay. Shaken up a little. Grass burns. Bruises on my arms and legs. Medics cleared me to leave."
The constable slid in behind the wheel. "Got to go. I'm taking her home."
"Don't you think she should go to the clinic or the hospital?" Greg questioned the officer. "She looks exhausted."
"I'm all right." Caroline leaned back on the seat and closed her eyes.
The constable started the car.
"I'll come by later and see how you're doing." Greg said. "Do you have family in town?"
Caroline opened her eyes. "I'm okay."
The cruiser eased away from the side of the road and headed down the highway.
When had he started thinking about her as Caroline? About two minutes ago.
Concerned about her returning to an empty apartment he changed his mind about hanging out with two cheerful kids and their pretty mother.
The after effects of the accident might hit Caroline hard. She'd had a narrow escape from death.
She said she was okay. She didn't look okay. Didn't say whether she had family in town. He'd phone. Or drop by to check up on her.
It'd take him the best part of two hours to get home. Instead of backtracking to the park he walked down the highway to the path leading to a shortcut through the woods.

Caroline eased her aching body into a bath of soothing hot water. Grass burns on her arms and legs stung when they hit the water. She'd refused help from the paramedics after they'd cleared her to go home. Her bruises were minor. The rescue team had maneuvered the driver from the car and discovered his right leg fractured in two places.
The medics had more than enough to do with the hysterical girl and the boy who'd soiled his pants. Poor kid. His brother had taken him for a drive and nearly ended his short life.
Warmth seeped into Caroline's bones. She wasn't sure whether she'd heard Greg right. He said he'd drop by and see how she was feeling.
She vaguely remembered telling him she was okay. No way could she deal with him today. Reaching for the faucet she ran more hot water into the tub and sank up to her neck. Steam drifted over her face.
It wasn't like her to be so indecisive. Why hadn't she reminded him who she was when he'd called at the clinic?
Shock. Anger. Surprise.
He'd caught her off guard at the start of a busy day. The clinic wasn't the place and the time wasn't right to confront him.
Confront? She frowned at the thought.
Is that what she wanted to do?
Confront him. And then what?
Tell him exactly what she thought of him and his family.
Not smart. Too much had happened in thirteen years. They'd lived different lives. Become different people.
What did she want? To hurt him? Make him suffer for the pain he'd inflicted on her. What if he didn't care?
Why hadn't he cared? Or been minimally interested in how she'd dealt with the pregnancy.
Caroline sighed. If she stayed any longer in the bath she'd be like a wrinkled prune.
If he came by she wouldn't let him in. But sooner rather than later she had to decide where and when to remind him he'd known her in the past and make it very clear she wasn't interested in dating him. Or speaking civilly to him.
She stepped out of the tub, dried off with a thick towel, got clean underwear from her bureau, pulled on black tights, a T-shirt and slipped on her cozy robe.
Too tired to cook a decent dinner, she made a pot of tea, toasted two slices of bread, buttered them, slivered some cheese from a block of her favorite cheddar, placed a mug and teapot on the tray and carried her meal into the living room.
She'd phoned the clinic when she got home telling them what had happened. They'd wanted to send one of the nurses to see her but she refused. The clinic hummed with walk-in patients on summer Sundays. She had another two days to rest up before returning to work.
Not exactly how she'd planned to spend her three days off. The front wheel of her bike had to be realigned and one of the pedals straightened. She wasn't sure how she'd feel about getting back on and riding on the highway.
Caroline shivered and sipped some tea. She put the mug down on the table and slid her hands up the sleeves of her robe to warm them.
She'd missed death by inches.
By fractions of seconds.
If she'd skidded left instead of right the car would have slammed into her.
She hadn't consciously made the decision. It had been made for her.
By whom?
A higher power or good luck.
When her father was sober and attended AA meetings he firmly believed in a Higher Power. Trouble was the HP hadn't saved him from totaling his van and killing himself after he'd fallen off the wagon.
She picked up the woolen throw from the arm of her chair, wrapped it around her shoulders and huddled into it.
Keep warm. Drink hot tea.
Quietly she analyzed what was happening to her. Delayed shock.
Should she call someone?
Who?
She hugged her hands around the mug of tea.
Her feet were cold.
So put socks on.
Right.
She limped to the bedroom, found a pair of thick socks mixed in with her pantyhose and dragged them on.
Much better.
Caroline stopped midway through the hall as the doorbell rang. Not him. She could not cope with Greg.
She pressed the intercom. "Who is it?"
"Sergeant Masters and Constable Evans. May we come in?"
Breathing a sigh of relief, she pressed the door release. "Sure. Come on up." And wondered why the visit from the cops? She'd given a statement at the accident. Maybe she hadn't made sense.
She waited for them at the door to her apartment. Sergeant Masters stepped forward and shook her hand. "Thank you for seeing us. How are you feeling?"
"Not bad. A few sore spots, a bruised knee, grass burns. I'm lucky to be alive."
"So I understand from the accident report."
Caroline led them into the living room and curled up in a corner of the sofa. The sergeant sat in the wing chair.
The sergeant hadn't been at the accident scene. She'd have remembered him. He had the craggy good looks of old time actor, Spencer Tracy. Reliable. Trustworthy.
Constable Evans had driven her home. She was an attractive woman with short blonde hair and had the sharp eyes and no nonsense look of a cop.
"Would you like some tea?" Caroline asked.
"No thanks. We won't keep you long."
"I'll use one of your dining room chairs if that's okay."
"Be my guest." Caroline's small table and two chairs passed muster as a dining room and suited her perfectly.
Constable Evans placed the chair beside the sofa.
"We'd like to go over the statement you gave at the accident scene, Dr. Balfour." The sergeant opened a small notebook.
"Wasn't I clear?"
Constable Evans leaned forward. "You were very sure what happened. A few witnesses had other versions. Would you mind going through it again?"
Caroline hugged the throw tightly around her shoulders and waist. "Seconds before I lost control of my bike I heard a boom box. You know the noise they make. Deafening. Then I saw the car."
She sucked in a deep breath. Shivers chased up and down her back.
"Take your time, Doctor. Can I get you something?" The sergeant felt the teapot. "Still hot. I'll pour you a cup."
"Thanks." Caroline waited for him to fill it and wrapped her fingers around its warmth.
"I guess I reacted instinctively trying to get out of the way. The next I knew I was lying on the ground looking up at the sky. I stood up. A woman helped me."
"And then?" The sergeant asked.
"After that I had to see who was hurt and what I could do. I had no meds with me."
"The girl in the car says you refused to assist her."
Caroline shook her head. "She was out of control. Hysterical. Didn't appear to have any visible injuries and tried to crawl over the driver while I was taking his pulse and assessing the extent of his injuries without moving him. I ordered her to stay where she was. I was afraid she might harm him. We got her out as quickly as we could. She seemed in no immediate danger."
Sergeant Masters pursed his lips. "Her parents are creating a fuss. Threatening to sue."
Caroline put the cup on the tray. "To sue whom? The police or me or both? For what? Neglect? She'd been drinking. Reeked of alcohol. Looked about fourteen.
Caroline had a bitter taste in her mouth. "In my judgment the driver of the car required my attention. If the girl's parents think otherwise let them take me to court. I have malpractice insurance which they probably know about and hope to get their hands on some easy money."
No longer cold and shaky, Caroline stood. Anger whipped through her. "You know why doctors don't want to stop at accident scenes? Because of people like...I want the parent's names. They have mine and are threatening me."
"Sorry, Dr. Balfour. We can't do that." The sergeant closed the notebook.
"Let me see if I get this straight. You've come here under false pretences. You encouraged me to give you my version of the events without telling me at the beginning about the girl and her parents, that's dirty pool where I come from.
"You'd better leave. I'll contact my lawyer in the morning. I want to know whether I'm fighting the police or the girl's parents or both."
The sergeant shook his head. "Not guilty, Dr. Balfour. We don't work that way. We have the girl's version of what happened and yours. If, and I don't think it'll go that far, if the parents decide to sue, we'll present both versions to their lawyer and yours."
"What about the big guy who hammered the doors off the car. He saw what happened, must have heard me speaking to the girl."
"Can't find him. He slipped through the crowd and disappeared."
Caroline walked over to the window and rested her hands on the ledge. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. Murphy's Law had come full flower. Her beautiful new bike was a mess. Her legs were bruised. Her knees hurt and someone at the scene had stolen her bike helmet and water bottle.
The chilling aftershock morphed into pure hot anger.
The officers stood.
"Thanks for seeing us." The sergeant's weathered face creased in a troubled frown. "You're not to worry. Witnesses at the scene spoke glowingly about your courage and your care for the young people in the car."
Caroline walked them to the door. "I hope that's all down in writing and available to my lawyer. Keep in touch."
She heard them walk down the stairs and listened for the front door closing.
She didn't have a lawyer but assumed one of her colleagues could suggest someone reliable. She'd been practicing medicine for six years and never come close to being sued.
A wicked thought crossed her mind. Maybe she could sue the teenager behind the wheel for driving under the influence and trying to kill her. He and the girl had been drinking. Underage.
She finished eating her toast and carried the tray into the kitchen.
The visit from the police had a positive outcome anger had eased the aftershock.

****
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