Titanic Affair

by Amanda Grange

  ‘Not long. Once the Captain’s found out how much damage there is he’ll get it fixed and we’ll be on our way again.’

  ‘It’s cold out here,’ she said. ‘I’m going back to my stateroom. There’s nothing to see, and I need my sleep.’

  Over the noise, Emilia heard another order from the bridge. Interested to find out exactly what had happened, she drew closer, meaning to ask one of the officers what was wrong, but they were very busy and she did not like to interrupt them.

  ‘Put the pumps to work,’ she heard the Captain say.

  She was startled. If the pumps were being put to work, then the ship must have taken on water.

  She went over to Carl, who was still by the ship’s rail.

  ‘I think the damage must be worse than we realized. I’ve just heard the Captain telling the crew to start using the pumps.’

  ‘Then it seems as though the ship must have been holed,’ said Carl with a frown.

  ‘Thank goodness for the bulkheads,’ she returned. ‘At least we know the ship won’t sink.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said a lady who had just that moment come on deck. She was dressed in her nightgown, with a coat on top. ‘I’ve just seen Mr Andrews. He was taking the stairs three at a time, and when I asked him if everything was all right he brushed me off and didn’t give me any reply. It’s worried me.’

  ‘Oh, that means nothing,’ said the first gentleman. ‘This ship’s his baby. I’ve heard him say so. He can’t bear the thought of a scratch on her, that’s all. He’ll be as polite as anything by morning again, and apologizing for rushing straight past.’

  Crew members started appearing on deck.

  Emilia was surprised … and then began to feel the first stirrings of disquiet. There was a purposeful air about them, which showed they were there for a reason. Then she heard the order given, ‘Uncover the lifeboats.’

  One of the crew members caught sight of her face.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious,’ he said cheerily. ‘It’s just a precaution.’

  He proceeded to pull the cover from one of the lifeboats at the side of the deck, whilst other crewmen began to operate the winches.

  Emilia turned to Carl.

  ‘Would they be uncovering the lifeboats if there wasn’t any danger?’ she asked.

  ‘Probably,’ he said, putting his hand on her arm. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s nothing. The Captain will have a procedure to follow, that’s all.’

  The touch of his hand was comforting. So, too, was the sound of his voice.

  ‘There was no lifeboat practice this morning. It seems as though there will be one this evening, instead,’ she said, lightening the situation.

  More people were starting to come on deck, but now instead of wearing pyjamas and overcoats many of them were fully dressed, and over their coats they were wearing lifejackets.

  ‘It’s just a precaution, miss,’ explained one of the stewards as he hurried past. ‘We’re telling everyone to put on their life vests, just to be on the safe side. Put something warmer on, if you don’t mind, miss, and then put your lifejacket on top of it, and come back on deck.’

  ‘He’s right,’ said Carl. ‘It’s cold out here. You should be dressed properly. I’ll take you back to your stateroom and you can put your coat and boots on.’

  He put his arm round her shoulders and began guiding her back along the deck.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said, turning to face him. ‘I can go by myself. You need to put your coat on, too, and you must see to your mother. She won’t know what’s happening and she will need someone to explain it to her.’

  She slipped out of his jacket and handed it back to him.

  He nodded. ‘I’m sure there’s no danger. Even so, I’d be happier if she was up on deck. I’ll rouse both her and Miss Epson and tell them to get dressed. Meet me back here as soon as you can.’

  ‘Very well.’

  She hurried towards the stairs. The night air bit into her. Her evening gown was sleeveless and she was very cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing them as she hurried along the deck and down the stairs, back into the main body of the ship. As she did so, she passed people hurrying the other way. Some were dressed in their nightclothes. Others were fully dressed.

  She made her way along the narrow but well lit passage that led to her stateroom. Stewards were knocking on doors, telling people to get up.

  ‘Dress warmly,’ they were saying. ‘It’s just a precaution, there’s nothing to worry about, but make sure you wear your lifejacket.’

  Sleepy passengers rubbed their eyes and asked each other what time it was. Some were curious, others were annoyed to be disturbed. Some flatly refused to get out of bed.

  She finally reached her stateroom and went in … only to stand still in shock. Ice had come in through the porthole and was melting on the carpet.

  Collecting herself, she went over to the wardrobe and took out a day dress. Slipping out of the beautiful but impractical Worth evening gown she put on her hard-wearing day dress, then put on her coat and changed into a sturdy pair of boots.

  Mrs McLaren, the stewardess, hurried in just as she was about to pull on her gloves.

  ‘You’ll need your life jacket,’ she said.

  She showed Emilia where it was stored, then helped her to put it on. It was made out of cork floats covered in canvas, and was thick and bulky, but fortunately it was large enough to put on over her coat. Mrs McLaren fastened it for her, tying the strings at her sides, before going into the next stateroom to help the passengers there.

  ‘Nothing to worry about, but dress warmly, put on your life vests and go up to the boat deck,’ came the voices of the stewards and stewardesses drifting through Emilia’s door.

  Emilia made her way back to the boat deck. There were more people there now, and an air of curiosity prevailed. They were watching the crewmen, who had removed the lifeboat covers and were coiling the ropes in their hands, or turning the handles that operated the machinery for lowering the boats over the side. The cheerful sound of music accompanied them. The musicians had come out onto the deck and were playing ragtime tunes to entertain the passengers and crew. A number of crewmen with nothing better to do were pairing off and waltzing round the deck in time to the music, laughing and joking. Other crew members were standing about smoking.

  Emilia looked for Carl but did not see him. It did not surprise her. If his mother had been asleep - and judging by Mrs Latimer’s yawns after dinner, that would almost certainly have been the case - then he would have had to rouse her, after which he would have had to wait until both she and Miss Epson had dressed. It would probably be some time before he appeared on deck. She did, however, see Pansy.

  ‘Emilia!’ called Pansy, hurrying over to her. ‘Isn’t it exciting? Imagine hitting an iceberg. What an adventure. There’s some talk of putting us out in the boats. Goodness knows why. It’s just a precaution, they say, but a precaution against what? I want to know. It’s not as though Titanic can sink.’

  Her breath misted in the cold air as she spoke.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Robert. He rubbed his hands together. ‘A lot of fuss about nothing, if you ask me. Still, I suppose it gives the crew something to do.’

  As they stood talking together, one of the gentleman next to them asked an officer casually, ‘Any danger?’

  ‘None at all, sir,’ he replied brightly. ‘We’re just checking the damage, but it’s unlikely to be anything much. Even if it turns out to be worse than we fear, we’ve got rockets on board to summon assistance. There’s nothing to worry about. We’re just getting the boats ready as a precaution.’

  He hurried away.

  ‘Told you so,’ said Robert. ‘This is just an interruption to the voyage. It’ll soon be over and we can all go back to bed.’

  One of the officers was now holding a megaphone. Standing next to a lifeboat, which had been lowered from the davits and now hung over the side of the ship on a l
evel with the deck, he called out, ‘Women and children!’

  Fortunately, the noise of the escaping steam had stopped and it was easy to hear him.

  ‘Can I have the women and children over here?’

  ‘Nonsensical idea,’ said the lady next to Emilia. ‘I’m not getting into a lifeboat. As if I’d leave the safety of the ship for a little wooden boat in the middle of the ocean. I’d as soon get into a cockleshell.’

  ‘You’re quite right,’ laughed her husband. ‘You’d have to be mad to get into one of those things. You’d catch your death of cold out there on the ocean in a little boat like that. Titanic can’t sink. It’s much safer on board.’

  Very few people wanted to go. Emilia could understand why. It was a drop of seventy-five feet to the water, and the undertaking looked perilous.

  One of the crewmen was busy setting off the first distress rocket. It boomed as it shot into the air and exploded into a mass of white stars. It was breathtaking, and it illuminated the sky and sea for miles around.

  ‘Goodness,’ said Pansy. ‘It’s like the 5th November! How pretty.’

  ‘Women and children,’ called the officer again.

  ‘Go on, my dear,’ said a gentleman to his wife. ‘It’s just a precaution, but I’d feel safer if you were off the ship.’

  ‘No, I’d rather stay here with you,’ she returned.

  ‘Oh, very well,’ he sighed.

  Pansy, however, needed no coaxing.

  ‘I don’t mind going,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ Robert was surprised.

  ‘It looks exciting,’ said Pansy. ‘It will be something to tell them all about at home. Besides, this is my chance to talk to Miss Gibson.’

  Miss Dorothy Gibson, the film star, was stepping into one of the boats, accompanied by her mother. She was being helped by a gentleman who was holding her hand. She stretched one foot out over the side of the ship and placed it in the lifeboat. Her other foot followed, but she did not relinquish the gentleman’s hand.

  ‘We don’t go unless you do,’ she said to him.

  There were two gentlemen in her party. Emilia had seen them playing bridge together earlier that evening.

  The gentlemen looked at the half empty lifeboat and then at each other.

  ‘What do you say?’ asked one.

  ‘What’s the difference?’ shrugged the other.

  The gentlemen climbed in.

  Pansy had by now seated herself in the boat, helped by Robert.

  ‘Come on, Emilia,’ said Pansy as she arranged her coat round her.

  ‘No.’ Emilia shook her head. ‘I want to wait for Carl.’

  Pansy gave her a knowing look.

  ‘I arranged to meet him, and I must do so,’ said Emilia.

  ‘Is there anyone else who’d like to get into the boat?’ asked one of the officers.

  ‘Robert, you come,’ said Pansy.

  He shook his head. ‘Women and children first.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said. ‘You can see as well as I can that none of the women want to come, and the boat’s half empty. Besides, there are other gentlemen already in the boat. I can’t think why you’re making such a fuss. Anyone would think the ship was going to sink. All we’re going to do is row round for half an hour and then get back on board.’

  ‘Oh, very well,’ said Robert.

  He climbed aboard.

  ‘Lower away!’ came the call.

  With a creaking of new ropes, they began to lower the boat. Emilia counted only twenty-eight men, women and crew on board. She saw their faces getting smaller and smaller as the boat was lowered down the side of the ship until it finally hit the sea. She could just make out Pansy’s hat, with the glow of Robert’s cigar next to it, and wondered whether Pansy would have a chance to talk to Dorothy Gibson as she hoped. Knowing Pansy, she thought it only too likely!

  She watched as the boat began to pull away from the ship. It glided away on a sea so calm it could have been made out of glass.

  It was a beautiful night, with not a breath of wind, and a clear sky. The cheerful strains of the orchestra playing ragtime music filled the air. With the intermittent booms of the rockets, and the white stars exploding overhead, there was a festive atmosphere.

  Emilia glanced at her watch. It was 12. 45, just over an hour since the ship had hit the iceberg, and about half an hour since Carl had gone below to help his mother. He should soon be returning to the deck.

  She went round to the port side of the ship to see if he had already, perhaps, returned. Just as she was passing one of the gangways, a fireman staggered up from below. His arm was bleeding from a long gash.

  A woman close to him looked horrified. ‘Is there any danger?’ she asked him hesitantly.

  ‘Danger?’ he yelled. ‘I should just say so! It’s hell down below. This ship will sink like a stone in ten minutes.’

  He was obviously in a great deal of distress, but before Emilia could do anything to help him, First Officer Murdoch took charge. He was a firm man, and strong minded. He placed crew at the top of the gangways so that no one else could come up from below as the fireman was helped.

  Emilia understood why. It would not do to have the passengers alarmed by such talk. Whether there was any dreadful danger she did not know. The fireman would obviously believe so if he himself had been wounded, but that meant nothing. He could simply have come from a part of the ship that had been badly damaged, whilst the rest of the ship remained intact. There did not seem to be any great danger. There was slight list to the ship, it was true, but nothing very much. Even so, the incident was unsettling.

  There was no sign of Carl on the port side of the ship, so she returned to the starboard side.

  She wished he would come.

  Her eyes travelled round the deck. She saw a number of other passengers, all talking in desultory fashion and discussing the untoward turn of events. She recognised Mr Astor. He was with a number of other gentlemen. Some were smoking cigars and some were drinking brandies. They all seemed calm and collected.

  Her eyes travelled on.

  She saw Mrs McLaren, her stewardess, standing by lifeboat no 5. Next to Mrs McLaren was a man in a dressing-gown and slippers. With a shock Emilia realized it was Mr Ismay. The last time she had seen him he had been dressed in his evening clothes, looking cheerful and gay. Now his face was strained.

  ‘Get into the boat,’ he was saying to Mrs McLaren and another stewardess.

  ‘But we’re not passengers,’ Emilia heard Mrs McLaren protest. ‘We’re only members of the crew.’

  He spoke firmly. ‘Nevertheless you are women and I want you to get into the boat.’

  With doubtful looks at each other, the stewardesses at last did as he said.

  Emilia felt the stirrings of unease. Mr Ismay’s face was grave, and the fact that he was forcing the stewardesses to leave the ship made her fear the situation was worse than she had supposed.

  Fortunately her thoughts were broken into at that moment by a cry ringing out over the jumbled noise of conversation and officers’ instructions being relayed through megaphones.

  ‘Emilia!’

  The voice belonged to Carl.

  She turned round to see him heading towards her, with his mother on one arm and Miss Epson on the other. Both ladies were dressed warmly in thick coats, with stout shoes, muffs and gloves, and both were wearing life jackets. Carl, too, was warmly dressed, and was wearing an overcoat, boots and life jacket.

  ‘Well, what a lot of fuss and no mistake,’ said Mrs Latimer as they drew close. ‘Carl’s telling me I’ve got to get in a lifeboat, but I don’t like the look of them. They’re too small. I’d sooner stay on the ship. There’s nothing wrong with it as far as I can see. A bit of a tilt, maybe, but nothing much.’

  A crewman hurried past and she called out to him, ‘Is it really serious?’

  ‘No, ma’am, there’s no danger,’ he said reassuringly. ‘There’s been some damage to the ship, but it’s onl
y trivial, and just in case it proves worse than we fear we’ve summoned four other ships by wireless. The first one will be here inside an hour.’

  ‘You see,’ she said to Carl. ‘There’s no use leaving the ship. If it’s serious after all, the other ships will take us off when they get here. They’ll be a lot safer than those cigar boxes,’ she said, eyeing the lifeboats dubiously. Then she turned to Emilia. ‘He’ll listen to you. Tell him he’s making a fuss.’

  Emilia glanced at Carl, then back at Mrs Latimer. She did not want to cause alarm, but she was concerned. Mr Ismay’s face and his insistence that the stewardesses must get in the boats, to say nothing of the fact that he, the White Star chairman, was personally helping people into the lifeboats, had begun to make her anxious. For the first time she thought it possible there might be some danger.

  ‘I think it’s a good idea,’ said Emilia. ‘Pansy and Robert have gone. So has Dorothy Gibson. It will be something to talk about when you get home.’

  ‘Well, I suppose so,’ sighed Mrs Latimer. ‘I’d better go. You’ll only bully me until I do,’ she said to Carl. ‘Miss Epson, you’d better get in first,’ she went on, turning to her companion.

  Chivvied along by Mr Ismay, and assisted by Carl and one of the crewmen, Miss Epson approached the side of the deck.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ said Miss Epson nervously.

  ‘Easy now,’ said one of the crewmen. ‘Nothing to fear. Just put your foot over the side and into the lifeboat. I’ve got you,’ he said reassuringly, as she put one tentative foot into the boat whilst the other was still on deck. With a little push from Carl and a little pull from the crewman, she managed to complete the manoeuvre successfully, and sat down in the boat.

  ‘Oh, it’s really quite comfortable,’ she said, surprised..

  ‘Now, you’re next,’ said Mr Ismay, helping Mrs Latimer.

  Carl turned to Emilia. ‘And then it will be your turn.’

  ‘Very well. As long as you come too.’

  ‘It’s women and children first,’ he reminded her.

  ‘There were a number of gentlemen in the first boat. If there are not enough women and children to fill the second boat, then men will be allowed in, too.’