The rain increased as they approached the house, drenching Olivia’s hair and seeping through her clothing. She hustled forward, head down, attempting to avoid the puddles forming on the sidewalk.
The sudden squeal of tires made her head snap up just in time to see a beat-up automobile careen around the corner, swerving from one side of the street to the other. Her heart seized in her chest. What was wrong with the driver?
Across the road, someone screamed, and a child started to wail. The car barely missed the woman with the carriage before it crossed back over, jumped the curb, and barreled toward them on the sidewalk.
“Look out!” Ruth grabbed Olivia and jerked her toward the hedges.
At the last second, the car swerved by them and smashed into a lamppost. Steam poured from under the crumpled hood. The driver slouched over the steering wheel, not moving.
The rain pelted harder, sending beads of water down Olivia’s neck. She blinked to clear her vision and followed Ruth over to the car. When they peered in the open window, the distinct odor of liquor wafted out.
Ruth’s face became grim. “Olivia, will you call the police? I believe this man is drunk and may need medical attention.”
Olivia took a closer look. “I think that’s the man who was looking for Jenny last night. He’s still wearing the same shirt.”
“Perhaps you should let Jenny know, then.”
Olivia nodded and headed for the house. Her legs were shaking as she climbed the steps.
The front door opened when she got there, and Margaret and Jenny peered out.
“We heard a loud bang,” Margaret said. “What happened?”
Olivia went inside and stood dripping on the mat, trying to come to grips with how close they’d just come to a terrible accident. Her teeth began to chatter—whether from shock or the rain she didn’t know. “A car smashed into the pole outside. The man appears to be hurt. Could you call the police and an ambulance, please?”
“Right away.” Margaret immediately rushed down the hall.
Olivia turned to the other girl. “Jenny, I’m not certain, but it might be your husband.”
The color left Jenny’s face. With jerky movements, she pulled a coat from the hook on the wall, shoved her arms in, then picked an umbrella from the stand and stepped outside.
Olivia followed her out, the rain pelting her with renewed fury. Already Jenny’s skirt was plastered against her legs as she walked out the gate toward the wrecked car.
Olivia glanced across the street, noting with dismay that a small crowd had gathered, huddled under their umbrellas, with Mr. Simmons at the forefront.
Ruth made way for Jenny to look inside the car. Tears filled Jenny’s eyes. “That’s him.” Then she backed away from the vehicle, as though expecting him to jump out and accost her.
Mr. Simmons crossed the road, his brows an angry slash on his forehead. “What the devil is going on here?”
The injured man groaned and began to stir. Then his eyes opened, fastening right on Jenny. “There you are, you ungrateful wench. Look what you made me do.” Blood dripped down his face from a gash on his forehead.
Jenny bit her lip, and Ruth put her arm around her.
The sound of a siren broke the eerie silence. A police car headed down the street toward them, its red lights flashing.
Olivia stood with the rain pouring off her, water puddling in her shoes. She didn’t know whether to cheer or groan. At least Jenny’s husband would no longer be a threat. He’d likely be sentenced and maybe jailed for destroying city property.
However, this was not the type of attention the maternity home needed right now. And with the neighbors having a front-row seat to the whole debacle, it would only add more fuel to Mr. Simmons’s campaign against them.
Just in time for the September council meeting.
40
Olivia sat on the bench in the backyard of Bennington Place and watched the sun rise over the trees. Shielding herself from the crisp morning air, she wrapped her cardigan more firmly around her middle, attempting to soak in the garden’s serenity.
It had been over week since the car accident, and to Olivia’s utter astonishment, Jenny had insisted on going with her husband to the hospital. Then, two days ago, she’d returned for her things, saying that she was moving back in with her husband. She said he’d learned his lesson and had promised to give up drinking. Ruth had tried to convince her that change wouldn’t come so easily, but to no avail. Jenny had bid them a tearful farewell and taken her leave.
A brisk wind blew up, stirring the grass at Olivia’s feet. She shivered. It was as if turning the calendar to September had created a distinct change in the weather. Now the evenings and mornings were decidedly cooler, and the first hint of color tinted the trees.
It also meant that the Toronto City Council would soon resume. Olivia glanced at her notebook and pencil on the bench beside her. She’d been trying to write something about the necessity of keeping Bennington Place open but hadn’t come up with more than a few disjointed sentences.
Some of the residents said they would stand up and offer testimony if Olivia did as well. How could she refuse when she wanted the other women to speak up?
Now one of her worst nightmares was coming true. She’d almost rather go through another round of torture at the reformatory than stand before the city council and expose her disgrace to the whole world. But she could see no other way around it.
She pushed away the ball of dread in her chest and read the few sentences she’d written so far. If only she could summon a bit of her initial passion for the maternity home. But lately, between missing Darius and worrying about Jenny, she’d lost some of her zeal for their mission. Somehow, some way, she needed to get it back.
Olivia looked up to see Cherise
