Chapter One #4
With his departure, Alice suddenly felt her tiredness, and the pain from her early injury made itself known for the first time, a sullen ache in her upper arm and shoulder, with a bite lurking in it somewhere.
I must find Axe, she thought, a little tearfully.
But here was a woman with blood all over her face and torn clothing saying, ‘My husband! I can’t find my husband!
’ She grabbed Alice’s arm in a fierce grip – her injured arm, unfortunately.
‘Help me! I must find him! He was sitting right beside me!’ She looked around, bewildered, as if she had only just noticed the terrible scene.
‘What’s happened? Where are we? Where’s Sidney? ’
Alice did what she could to calm the woman, find out which carriage she had been in, and take her to it in the hope that her husband was there, looking for her.
And on the way, she heard a man say something about a real hero, who was doing something astonishing, saving lives, and ‘He must be as strong as an ox to be holding that thing up. But they say he used to be the blacksmith.’
She whipped round, caught the wrist of the man who had been speaking, and said, ‘Where? Where?’ He looked at her stupidly. ‘Where’s the blacksmith?’
‘Are you hurt, miss? You should go back there and get yourself seen to,’ the man said.
‘The blacksmith you were talking about,’ Alice cried, shaking his wrist. ‘Where is he?’
‘That carriage.’ His companion gestured, a degree more alert. ‘When the engine blew up a great big piece of boiler casing went up in the air and landed on it. But you should—’
Alice didn’t hear any more. She didn’t even notice that the bewildered woman had wandered off. Picking her way through the litter of passengers, helpers and strewn possessions, she ran.
She didn’t know how long he had been standing there, taking the weight of the curved slice of metal while rescuers crawled underneath, but she knew with the instinct that knew him that he was close to breaking point.
If he let go, lost his grip, or simply failed, those inside would be crushed.
He would know that better than anyone. She could not imagine the effort of will that kept him there.
‘Oh, hurry! Hurry!’ she cried, though no-one could hear her.
She could not even get near him – there were too many helpers in the way.
And then someone came backing out, half lifting, half dragging a body – live or dead, she didn’t know – and, passing it to willing arms behind, said, ‘There’s just one more I can see, but I think she’s dead.’
Axe made an inarticulate sound of pain and despairing effort, and as the rescuer straightened up to flex his arms, he let go of his burden and it crashed down, making everyone skip backwards, as dust and splinters were displaced in a cloud upwards.
Axe took a step back and sank to his knees, his face white under the soot and dirt.
Alice wriggled her way through to him. He met her eyes blankly – she thought for a moment he didn’t know who she was – and then turned up his hands to stare at them.
There were deep wounds across the palms where the edge of the metal had cut him.
Alice didn’t know she was crying until she saw her tears fall on them.
Salt water, good for wounds, some distant part of her mind told her.
‘Don’t take on so,’ she heard him say kindly. ‘They’re coming with jacks and poles from Tucker’s garage. They’ll get it up and get her out all right. I’m sorry I couldn’t hang on any longer.’
‘That man said she’s dead,’ Alice said, with a hitch in her voice. ‘I’m not crying for her. It’s you!’
‘I’m all right. Just strained some muscles. There, don’t cry, my lamb!’
She gave one sob that was half a laugh – he had called her his lamb! – and was in control again. ‘You’d better get those hands looked at,’ she said. She met his eyes. ‘You’re a hero, I heard someone say.’
He looked embarrassed at being praised. ‘Everyone’s doing what they can. You’re all over blood – are you hurt?’
‘It’s not mine,’ she said, for the second time. ‘Can you get up?’
She offered her hands, and felt by how much of his weight he put on them how hurt he was.
‘A-a-ah!’ he said, on a low gasp.
Here were the men with the poles and jacks.
‘The station, I think,’ Alice said. ‘They must have water and bandages there by now. I’ve parted with my petticoat long ago.
’ She took his arm over her shoulder, put hers round his waist, and helped him away.
She could hear from his breathing that it hurt to move.
The rough, uneven ground didn’t help. She took as much of his weight as she could.
‘Did – you get – the horses out?’ he asked in gasps.
‘There were four. One bolted when I got the ramp down. Two seemed all right, but the fourth was down. I don’t know how badly it was hurt. They belong to Lord Shacklock. His groom came along and took over, so I came to help at the train.’
He grunted in reply, and they went on in silence for a bit.
And then two men came up. ‘Out the way, missy,’ one said.
‘You’ve not got the strength for this. Come on, friend, that’s right, arms over our shoulders.
We’ll give you a carry. Got your arm under his leg, Jack?
That’s right. Cor, you’re a weight you are!
All muscle, though, I can see that! Everyone’s talking about what you did.
How you held half a carriage up all by yourself is a wonder!
You’re a hero, that’s what! Bless me if you’ll ever have to buy yourself a pint o’ beer again in this village… ’
He was borne away, and Alice was left behind. She wondered vaguely about the woman who had lost her husband, but was too tired to go back and look for her. She followed the general stream of movement towards the station. There would probably be people to help there.