A Shop Girl at Sea

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A Shop Girl at Sea Page 14

by Rachel Brimble


  The First Officer stood farther along the deck, waving the sign for all hands on deck as lifeboats began to be lowered. Samuel sprinted to the closest lifeboat and set about hauling and coiling the ropes, ready for lowering. Every minute of their limited training aboard this ship and the years he possessed as a seaman came to the fore as his mind focused.

  The clamour of shouting and the screeching of metal and steam made it impossible to speak with his fellow crewmen, but each worked methodically and confidently. It was only the lack of eye contact that gave any indication that his shipmates’ fears mirrored his own.

  A bellowed message was yelled along the port deck.

  ‘Women and children only. Women and children only.’

  Samuel glanced at the men around him. Each of them was likely to perish out here in the darkness, in the icy-cold ocean right alongside him. Sickness coated his throat as his Ma’s and sisters’ faces rose in his mind’s eye, regret for all he had planned to do for them no longer relevant. If to die on this ship was his fate, then he’d damn well do all he could to save as many lives as possible before his time came.

  He clenched his jaw and stepped towards the closest people to him. A mother and father in their twenties and two young children. He clasped the father’s arm. ‘Sir, we need to get your family aboard a lifeboat. There is no time to waste. Please, this way.’

  Thankful the man broached no argument, Samuel led the way to the lifeboats.

  ‘You there.’

  Samuel turned to face a senior officer. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘I’m putting you in charge of getting passengers aboard this lifeboat. For God’s sake, man, put this on.’ He grabbed a lifejacket from a passing steward and pushed it into Samuel’s hands. ‘Not everyone will be able to get on the lifeboats. Keep calm at all times. Show nothing on your face. Do you understand?’

  Samuel nodded as he donned the jacket. ‘Yes, sir.’

  With a final lingering assessment of the growing crowds, the officer left, leaving Samuel in charge. He inhaled a long breath and then yelled orders as he and other crew helped women and children aboard the lifeboats. The weeping goodbyes and promises of reunion gripped Samuel’s heart and conscience, but he remained tight-lipped even as guilt pressed like a lead weight on his chest. Most people remained entirely unaware of the imminent fate of almost everyone onboard.

  Anger and frustration, fear and loss swelled inside him. Who in God’s name was responsible for this? How had a ship so magnificent, so enormous, been reduced to a vessel that would sink, taking thousands of lives with her? And what of the damn lifeboats? Why had his senior officer been so certain that so many would not be saved?

  A hard slap landed on his shoulder.

  ‘What’s your name, son?’

  Samuel saluted the senior officer. ‘Murphy, sir.’

  ‘I’ve just learned you have experience of sailing vessels as well as steam ships. Correct?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Good. You are one of two seamen charged with rowing a lifeboat to the rescue ship. I will send your second along once I’ve ascertained the next best person and which boat you are to command. In the meantime, supervise the lowering of as many as possible. You are doing a fine job and I want you in charge until the last moment. You are not to climb aboard a boat until I give the order.’

  ‘I would prefer to stay aboard, sir.’ There was no way in hell he was abandoning ship when so many others would surely perish. ‘I can be of help to the end.’

  The officer’s fairly amiable expression immediately darkened, his eyes aflame with urgency and anger. ‘This is not the time to play the goddamn hero, Murphy. You are in service. You are abandoning nothing. You are assigned to get women and children to safety.’ He glanced left and right. ‘You are saving their damn lives. Now get to it.’

  The officer shoved his way through the mass around them, leaving Samuel standing rigid with indecision. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn’t get in a lifeboat knowing hundreds of civilians would die. If he survived and others didn’t, how was he supposed to live with that?

  ‘Samuel! Samuel!’

  He sharply turned.

  Amelia pushed her way to the front, her hand at Mr Weir’s wrist. ‘Thank God, I found you,’ she yelled. ‘I was so worried.’

  He stared at her beautiful face, willing his racing heart to calm. ‘You need to do get in this lifeboat, Amelia. Right now.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Now.’ He clenched his jaw, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘I mean it.’

  The momentarily relief he’d seen in her eyes when she’d found him slowly evolved into confusion and then comprehension. A tiny flicker of fear passed through her gaze before she pulled back her shoulders. ‘No, I will help as many others as I can. I know more than most how it feels to be left for dead. For knowing life can change in an instant through no fault of your own. I am not leaving. Not yet.’

  ‘Amelia—’

  ‘I said, I’m not leaving.’ Her glare locked with his. ‘I told you before, no one will make me do something I don’t want to do ever again. Including you.’

  Twenty-Eight

  Amelia dragged her gaze from Samuel’s, hating that she had to defy him, but how could she save her own skin rather than do all she could to help the terrified families around her? She was alone. Without loved ones. These people had so much to live for.

  This entire situation made her deeply regret that she had been reduced to such a state of sadness to contemplate taking her own life. Yet, a second chance had seemed impossible after her attack. Being here, like this, when so many people’s lives would be taken, when they so much wished to live, made Amelia vow eternal gratitude for the gift of life.

  Determination swelled inside of her.

  She would do everything she could to ensure at least some of these people had a chance of survival, bury her own terror and fear and stand strong when so many innocent people were at risk… innocent people with innocent children.

  She faced Mr Weir. ‘We must do all we can to help. Go farther along the deck and point people towards the boats. I’ll do what I can here.’

  ‘Miss Wakefield…’ He looked at Samuel and then the lifeboat, his eyes reflecting his concern, but his calmness palpable. ‘I really think you should climb aboard. Mr Carter will never forgive me if he learns I failed to convince you—’

  ‘I will get in a boat once I’ve done all I can for these poor families. I promise. Please, Mr Weir, I can’t stand by and do nothing.’

  He stared at her before giving a curt nod, his eyes filled with a strange sadness. ‘We should exchange something.’

  Amelia frowned, glanced at Samuel who now has his back turned to her, helping a young woman and her child aboard. ‘Exchange something?’

  ‘Yes, in case we… just in case.’

  ‘But I don’t understand. Just in case of what?’

  He drew his pocket watch from his waistcoat and placed it in her hand, closing it into a fist and holding tight. ‘Here. Now, let me have that comb in your hair.’

  Her concern deepened, her eyes still locked with Mr Weir’s as she reached up and drew the ivory comb from her hair, placing it gently into his outstretched hand.

  He softly smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Good luck, Miss Wakefield.’

  His gaze lingered on hers before he turned and walked away.

  Amelia stared after him until he disappeared, a horrible foreboding knotting her stomach. What just happened? Why would Mr Weir insist they exchanged a possession with one another?

  Swallowing hard, she inhaled a deep breath and strode to Samuel’s side. ‘Who’s next?’

  He turned and looked over her shoulder. ‘Where’s Weir?’

  ‘Gone to help. What can I do?’

  ‘You can get on this lifeboat.’

  ‘No.’

  Her heart beat hard in her chest, but she did not look away or falter.

  His
jaw clenched before he gave a firm nod. ‘Fine. Go back and try to encourage as many women and children forward as you can. Their reluctance is foolhardy, but understandable. We have to be firm. These people will soon realise their fate.’

  The night was bitterly cold, but it wasn’t the temperature that touched icy-cold to Amelia’s bones. Samuel was a seaman. A sailor with experience and expertise. He would understand what was unfolding more than many of the thousands aboard. And, in that moment, Amelia entirely understood, too.

  People would die. Drown. Perish.

  Fighting the tears that burned the back of her eyes, she drew her gaze over Samuel’s face once more before turning away.

  Shouting came from along the deck.

  ‘First-class passengers to the front, please. First-class women and children, this way.’

  Amelia’s anger ignited as officers reached into the crowds and blatantly picked out the wealthier dressed families, urging them forward and physically holding back others. Narrowing her eyes, she strode towards the uniformed imbecile who clearly thought himself God to pick and choose who would be given a chance to live.

  ‘Everyone is equal, are they not?’ she yelled, pulling at his sleeve. ‘Whoever is here first should be put into a boat. Class is of no distinction. Especially now.’

  ‘Either get in a boat or get out of my way.’ The officer yanked his arm from Amelia’s grasp. ‘This is not the time for female hysterics.’

  Amelia glared at his turned back before elbowing her way through a row of richly dressed passengers to some people dressed less grandly standing anxiously behind. She stormed towards a family who stood huddled together, the children’s eyes wide with fright and their parents looking confused and afraid. In their arms, they seemed to carry the entirety of their meagre possessions. Small wooden boxes and belongings wrapped in material lay in their arms as though they’d grabbed all that they could physically carry, worn clothes and knitted scarves wrapped around their thin bodies. She had heard some women yelling at their maids to return to their cabins in order to retrieve jewels, furs and money.

  The comparison in need and importance to these people was sickening. Sickening and wrong.

  ‘Quickly, come this way.’ She smiled at the family. ‘I’ll find you a boat. Everything will be all right.’

  For every mother and child she helped into a boat, Amelia breathed a little easier, her heart a little calmer. Her arms ached and her legs were tired, but brute determination rose up inside her time and again, filling her with strength and purpose. The sky was filled with a million stars, the sea as calm and still as a millpond. Yet, inside, a turbulent mix of fear and apprehension ebbed and flowed through her. Every now and then, she would look across at Samuel, his face etched with determination and care. His strong arms lifting children to safety, his smile flashing and his eye winking as he offered all the possible comfort and reassurance he could.

  Admiration swept through her and a sudden nonsensical thought of what could’ve been between them rose in her mind but, in reality, she had no relationship with Samuel. They’d known each other a matter of days. It could only be fear making her consider him with such longing.

  The screams of women and the cries of children increased as families were wrenched apart, having little choice of whether or not to leave their husbands and fathers behind. The fear and grief in some of the mothers’ eyes made Amelia want to turn away, her heart breaking, but she held fast.

  ‘Come, you must think of your child,’ she said, urging a young woman and the babe she held into one of the boats. ‘The men will be put on boats as soon as the women and children are away.’

  The woman searched Amelia’s face, her face shining white in the moonlight. ‘Do you promise?’

  Amelia’s heart and conscience ached with guilt. What did she really know? She had not even spoken to Samuel who would undoubtedly know more than her. She forced a smile, guilt clawing at her. ‘I promise.’

  The woman glanced at her husband before climbing into the boat and it was immediately ordered to be lowered. Amelia crossed her arms tightly across her body as the boat listed and jerked towards the inky-black water. Surely, more people could fit into these boats? There certainly seemed to be room for twenty or more people in the one she watched descend.

  She glanced towards Samuel and stilled, tension inching through her shoulders. He spoke with another officer who gestured frantically towards the lifeboat next to Samuel. They appeared to be in some sort of altercation. Amelia kept her gaze firmly on Samuel as she shouldered her way through the crowds towards them. Something was causing Samuel to fling his arm towards the boat, his face dark with anger. When she was close enough to hear their shouts above the thunderous belching of the tunnels, the steam hot and persistent, she stopped.

  ‘This is it, Murphy,’ the officer yelled. ‘It’s your turn. Get in the boat and row these people to safety. That’s an order.’

  Amelia’s breath caught like broken glass in her throat. Samuel was leaving.

  Time stood still, her pulse a steady thrum in her ears… and then Samuel raised his hand in a firm salute.

  The officer nodded and strode away.

  Hundreds of people now stood or ran around the Boat Deck, cold and frightened with no idea of whether they would live or die. Death seemed to hover over the ship, its corpselike state a dark and dismal blanket shrouding them all, pulling them towards what would assuredly be a bleak and slow ending.

  Elizabeth and Esther’s faces filled Amelia’s mind. The store. The park. Every place where she had managed to find peace and escape in the beautiful city of Bath…

  ‘Amelia!’

  She started and faced Samuel, the soles of her feet stuck to the deck.

  ‘Quickly!’ He waved her forward, his gaze intense. ‘You’re coming with me. Right now.’

  Twenty-Nine

  Samuel kept his hand outstretched towards Amelia, his heart thundering.

  How was he to reach her – keep her safe – when so many people separated them? He couldn’t leave the lifeboat and, if Amelia bolted, he would have no possible way of catching her… of having the chance to maybe love her.

  Chaos was breaking out around them, the smell of oil and grease, fear and desperation merging and spreading like the water that grew ever higher. Samuel dragged his gaze from Amelia, indecision and terror tormenting his heart and mind. He was under orders to stay in the lifeboat, but how in God’s name could he leave without Amelia? God damn it, he shouldn’t be leaving at all. Not when so many people were destined to die. Yet, if he could save just a few…

  At last, Amelia moved towards him, her steps steady and sure, her chin raised as though the screaming and shouting wasn’t all around her, pressing into their space and stealing their courage.

  The moment she slipped her hand into his, relief and strength flooded through him. They would do what they could for these people together. Side by side. She carefully lifted her foot into the boat.

  ‘Wait. Please, wait.’

  A young mother lunged forward and pushed her baby into Amelia’s arms.

  ‘Please,’ the woman cried. ‘Take her with you. I can’t leave my husband. Take her. Give her a chance to live. Please.’

  The woman turned and ran as though unable to bear the force of her heartbreaking decision. Amelia’s eyes were wide on Samuel’s as she clutched the crying babe to her chest. ‘Samuel…’

  ‘Everything will be all right. I’ll make sure you and the baby are safe.’ He squeezed her arm and prayed she understood his promise. Come what may, he would ensure she and the baby survived.

  Amelia climbed into the lifeboat and sat on the wooden bench beside two women wrapped in furs. The jewels around their necks and in their ears glinted beneath the flickering lights as they clung to one another, tears flowing in silver tracks down their cheeks. Amelia sat upright, her spine rigid as she stared resolutely ahead, her jaw tight. If memory served him right, she’d met these women during her investigative tr
ips to first-class. He thought their names to be something like Parker and Culford.

  A senior officer came forward. ‘Officer Murphy. Lower the boat.’

  ‘But I can take more, sir. There’s room for at least—’

  ‘Now, officer.’ The man’s face was a mask of detachment, except for his eyes which blazed with underlying panic. ‘We have no time to lose. Lower or face the barrel of my gun.’

  Samuel clenched his jaw, his heart pumping before he nodded and forced his gaze to the passengers standing above them, lest he ever forget the distress and terror in their eyes. This was why he was on this boat. To give something to these poor men who could do nothing to help their loved ones. He would stand where they had not been given the chance.

  Tears glistened in the eyes of these husbands, sons and brothers as they stared at the females they knew or loved. Samuel’s heart filled with their pain and he caught the eyes of a few before doubt in his capabilities rose and he quickly looked away, the threat of losing hold of his sanity edging in.

  ‘Lower the boat,’ he yelled. ‘All aboard.’

  A bitter nausea coated his throat under the knowledge more passengers could have boarded their vessel. It was clear how hysterical things would soon become once the Titanic started its inevitable descent into the ocean. He forced himself to concentrate on the job in hand.

  A flare whistled into the black night sky and exploded like a pink-red rocket. The collective gasps of the passengers cut through the roar and screech of the ship.

  Now people would know the unsinkable ship was in dire distress. The atmosphere aboard would veer from a place of reasonable control, to out and out chaos. Drawing in a shaky breath, Samuel worked the ropes as they approached the sea’s surface, burying the conflicting emotions ricocheting through him and making him want to shout aloud at the injustice of what was unfolding.

 

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