‘Pansy and Robert have been asking everyone on board,’ she said gently. ‘They’ve looked all over. No one’s seen her, and her name isn’t on the survivors’ list. I’m sorry, Carl.’
‘One of the other ships could have picked her up,’ he said. ‘I heard Captain Smith speaking to the first Officer. There were a number of ships on their way. The Baltic, the Olympic - any one of them could have taken her on board.’
None of the other ships answering Titanic’s distress call had rescued any survivors, but the fiction allowed Carl to hope, and hope was important to him if he was to regain his strength. So she said nothing.
‘I must find out when the other ships will be docking in New York,’ he said. ‘Then I can be there to meet them.’
‘Well, I’ll ask Captain Rostron when they’re going to get there,’ said Mrs Latimer. ‘Now, drink your tea.’
Reluctantly he took a sip, then another, and thanks to his mother’s coaxing he slowly drank the whole cup.
‘It makes a change to have you looking after me,’ he said with a weak smile.
‘I should think so too. When I think of how I stayed in bed all day, well, I can’t believe it. We’ll have you up in no time, as long as you do as I tell you,’ she said.
He smiled. But his thoughts could not be diverted for long. ‘How long is it until Carpathia reaches New York?’ he asked.
‘Not long. We’ve had a lot of bad weather since Titanic sank. It’s making it hard for the crew to know when we’ll get there, but it ought to be some time tomorrow.’
‘The sooner we arrive in New York the better,’ he said. His eyes wandered round the bedroom. ‘It was good of Donaldson to give us his stateroom.’
‘Everyone’s been very kind,’ she said. ‘The passengers and crew couldn’t have been kinder. They’ve all done everything they can to make us feel better. Pansy and Robert said the same thing this morning. Nothing’s been too much trouble for them.’
He closed his eyes,
‘You’re tired,’ she said. ‘You’d better get some rest.’
Looking at him, she realized he had not heard her. He had already fallen asleep.
She stroked his hair back from his face. It pained her to see him looking so ill. But in time he would recover.
She left him sleeping and went through into the sitting room. She had not been there long when there was a knock on the door.
Pansy, she thought.
Pansy had been such a comfort to her through the last few days. She really didn’t know how she would have managed without her. She had had Miss Epson to help her, of course, but her companion was not of a practical turn of mind and tended to become agitated at the slightest thing. Mrs Latimer had gratefully accepted Pansy’s help to watch over Carl, and they had nursed him back to health together.
She opened the door.
Pansy was looking thinner than she had done a few days before, and her expression was more sombre. Her spirits had been affected by the ordeal, and although she was still of a positive turn of mind, her light-hearted gaiety had disappeared.
‘Well, I’m glad to see you. It’s kind of you to help out like this, and don’t think I don’t know it,’ said Mrs Latimer, as she invited Pansy in.
‘I’m only too happy to do it,’ said Pansy.
The two ladies sat down. Both were dressed strangely. They had escaped from Titanic with only the clothes they had been wearing when the ship had gone down, which had been ruined by salt water. Female passengers on board Carpathia had kindly donated clothes to all the survivors of Titanic, and both Pansy and Mrs Latimer were now wearing clothes which were oddly mismatched. Pansy’s skirt was too small, and she had not been able to fasten it properly round the waist. Her blouse was too big, and she had had to turn the sleeves over at the cuff to prevent them falling over her hands. Mrs Latimer was wearing a dress which hung from her like a sack, and which was far too long. Still, they had the advantage of being clean, warm and dry.
‘How is he?’ asked Pansy.
‘A bit better,’ said Mrs Latimer. ‘He went to sleep again this afternoon, and he’s had some tea. But he’s still poorly.’
‘And does he know yet?’ asked Pansy.
Mrs Latimer shook her head. ‘No. He thinks she’ll have been picked up by one of the other ships, and he’s hoping she’s still alive. I can’t tell him, at least not yet.’
‘Perhaps it’s better that way,’ said Pansy. ‘At least he will be rested before he has to bear the shock of discovering that none of the other ships have any survivors on board. I still can’t believe that Emilia is gone. I’ve asked everyone on the ship if they’ve seen her, and checked the list of survivors three times, but there is no trace of her.’
‘She was so full of life,’ said Mrs Latimer with a sigh. ‘If only she’d got into the boat with us, right at the beginning, she’d have missed the worst of things, like we did. I know it was cold in the lifeboats, and the sight of the ship sinking - well, it’s best not to think of that. But we’re both still here.’
They fell silent.
It seemed so peaceful in the sitting-room that it was almost impossible to believe what had happened just a few short days before. The curtains were pulled cosily across the portholes. The clock ticked complacently on the mantelpiece, and the electric lights bathed the rose-upholstered furniture in a warm glow.
‘That wretched man!’ burst out Pansy suddenly. ‘He has a lot to answer for.’
‘Barker,’ nodded Mrs Latimer. ‘He paid for it, though.’
Pansy looked at her enquiringly.
‘Carl finished telling me about it when you’d gone to lie down. You know it was Barker who took her, just before she got into the boat, and you know Carl managed to find her again, but you don’t know that Barker got his come-uppance. He tried to get on one of the lifeboats dressed as a woman. Emilia pulled his hat off. One of the officers hit him with the butt of his gun, and Barker toppled over the side of the ship. He wasn’t wearing a lifejacket.’
‘I should not be pleased,’ said Pansy. ‘But I am.’ She fell silent again, thinking. ‘But Emilia … I still can’t understand it. Carl said he saw her get into the boat.’
Mrs Latimer stood up and went over to one of the lamps on a console table. She switched it on, adding another pool of light to the room.
‘Well, yes, but Carl was knocked away by a wave. With the ship sinking fast and the water rising, she could have been washed out of it. And then, what with all the suction as the ship went down … ’
The two women fell silent.
‘What will you do?’ asked Pansy at last.
‘Go back to New York and look after Carl,’ said Mrs Latimer. ‘What else can I do?’
‘Do you think he will go on as before when you return to New York?’
‘I’d like to think so, but I just don’t know. I used to think he’d get married, find a nice girl and settle down, but I’m not sure now.’
‘There will be plenty of young ladies willing to tempt him,’ said Pansy.
‘Oh, yes, there’ll be plenty to try, but I don’t think they’ll do it. They’re pretty girls but they’re cold. Emilia was warm. She made Carl a different man, like he used to be, before he got to making all this money. Not that I’m saying it hasn’t been useful, but there’s other things in life.’ She sighed. ‘Well, I’ll worry about that another day. Right now, I just want to get back home.’
Pansy looked at her sympathetically. Once back in New York, Mrs Latimer would have to face the ordeal of telling Carl that the other ships had not taken aboard any survivors.
Pansy did not envy her the task.
Emilia stood patiently in the sitting-room, waiting for Mrs Frampton’s maid to finish her packing. She was wearing some clothes kindly lent to her by Mrs Frampton. They were too large, and intended for a woman who was twice her age, but still, she was grateful for them. She was wearing a long coat down to her ankles, a stole around her shoulders, and a large-brimmed hat on her head. M
rs Frampton had taken care to muffle her up, telling her that the weather was cold and foggy. Still weakened by her ordeal, she was even more weakened by the knowledge that Carl had not survived. But she was determined not to let the depths of her feelings show. Mrs Frampton had been very kind to her, and Emilia did not want to burden her benefactress with a display of grief.
‘Is everything ready?’ asked Mrs Frampton as she cast her eye over her luggage, neatly packed and stacked by the door of the stateroom.
‘Yes, madam,’ said Mary.
‘Good.’ Mrs Frampton tuned to Emilia. ‘The ship will be docking any minute. It’s time for us to go ashore.’
Emilia should have been looking forward to it. With Barker gone, and Charles and Julia waiting for her, it held the promise of an interesting holiday in New York. But the joy had gone out of her. Since learning that Carl had not been rescued, she had lost her interest in life.
‘Come, my dear, take my arm.’
Together she and Emilia made their way through the ship to the gangplank.
‘Stay with me, my dear,’ said Mrs Frampton. ‘If your friends have not come to meet you, you will come home with me as arranged. I will be happy to look after you until you can send them word of where you are staying.’
‘Thank you. You’re very kind,’ said Emilia.
‘Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve endured,’ said Mrs Frampton with false sympathy.
There was the sound of rain pattering on the covered roof of the dock as they left the ship. Lightning flashed intermittently.
‘It’s a good thing the weather wasn’t like this on the night Titanic sank, or no one would have been saved,’ said Mrs Frampton. ‘The weather has been stormy ever since that fateful night.’
‘Yes, madam,’ said Mary.
It was true. Emilia knew that if a storm had raged, no one would have been saved. Launching the lifeboats would have been difficult enough, and surviving on a turbulent sea would have been impossible. She should be grateful she had her own life. But with Carl gone, it was hard for her to be grateful about anything.
As she set foot on the gangplank she looked down at the pier. Ranged around it were friends and relatives of those who had survived the disaster, looking up at the ship with anxious faces. White-clad ambulance surgeons stood in a group nearby, in case they should be needed. Sisters of Mercy were on hand in their black clothes, and there were a number of priests. Light bulbs flashed as photographers took pictures for the newspapers. Reporters stood next to them with notebooks and pencils.
Emilia found it daunting. Her nerves had still not fully recovered from the ordeal, and she was apprehensive about leaving the pier. To her relief, however, the police had a strong presence. They were holding the crowds back and keeping the situation under control.
She paused half way down the gangplank, searching the crowds for a sight of Charles. Her eyes roamed over all the strange faces. Then she felt herself relax as she saw him. There was no mistaking his round face, black hair, and round body, even beneath a long raincoat and bowler hat. Next to him was a dark-haired woman with a good-natured countenance and a heart-shaped face. She must be Julia.
Kind though Mrs Frampton had been, it was an enormous relief for Emilia to see them.
‘There are my friends,’ said Emilia, turning to Mrs Frampton.
‘I’m so pleased,’ said Mrs Frampton. ‘It makes such a difference to have loved ones looking after you at a time like this. Go to them, my dear.’
‘Thank you for everything you have done for me. It was very kind of you to take me in, and look after me when I was ill.’
‘It was nothing,’ said Mrs Frampton with a wide smile. ‘Don’t mention it.’
Emilia hurried down the gang plank and across the dock.
Charles pushed his way through the crowd. A policeman tried to bar his way, but after a brief discussion he was allowed to pass. He met Emilia half way across the dock.
‘Emilia!’ he said. ‘We have been so worried about you. Ever since Titanic sank, Julia and I have been on tenterhooks, wondering whether you would be alive or dead. It is so good to see you, especially in one piece. You must have had a terrible time, but it’s over now. Julia and I mean to look after you. How are you feeling?’ he went on, as he guided her through the crowd to Julia.
‘A little pulled down,’ she said.
She made light of her troubles, not wanting to upset him any more than necessary. Besides, she did not want to talk about it. They knew nothing about Carl, and her feelings were too raw to allow her to speak of him. The ordeal she had suffered aboard Titanic was enough to explain her low spirits, and they would not look for anything further.
She and Charles reached the young woman Emilia had seen from the gangplank.
‘This is Julia,’ said Charles.
There was no mistaking the note of pride in his voice. It was easy to see why. Julia was a beautiful young woman with gleaming dark hair and smiling eyes. Her clothes were well cut, her knee-length coat being fastened round the middle with a wide buckled belt, and her wrap-over skirt tapering towards her neat ankles. A wide-brimmed hat decorated with a single feather completed her outfit. Charles was evidently in love with her, and as Julia looked up at him, Emilia could see his feelings were returned.
‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ said Emilia.
‘And I’m so pleased to meet you,’ said Julia, taking her hand. ‘It’s such a relief to know that you’re safe. When we heard about the Titanic we feared the worst. I cannot tell you what Charles went through when he thought you might have been drowned. It is such a relief to us to have you here with us. Now everything will be all right.’
‘I tried to send you a telegraph to let you know I had survived,’ said Emilia, as Charles led them to his waiting motor car. ‘A kindly woman, a Mrs Frampton, took me in and looked after me in her stateroom. She instructed her maid to send you a telegraph, but the telegraph office was kept busy with official communications and I doubt if it was ever sent.’
‘That doesn’t matter now,’ said Charles, pushing aside a reporter who was waving his notebook under Emilia’s nose, and guiding her past the ambulances drawn up beside the pier, whilst all around them the crowd surged forward as survivors tried to find their families. ‘All that matters is that you are safe.’
‘I’ll be glad when we reach the car,’ said Julia, as she was jostled by the crowd.
‘Not much further now,’ said Charles.
Before long they reached the motor car. Charles opened the doors for Emilia and Julia, then closed them again when they had stepped inside. He himself climbed into the driver’s seat.
Once inside the car, with the doors closed, the noise of the dock receded. Charles switched on the engine then they pulled away. As they left the dock behind them, Emilia felt some of the horror of her ordeal recede with it.
‘We’re so sorry you had to go through such a terrible ordeal,’ said Julia. ‘But now that you are with us you must stay for as long as you like. We will soon have you on your feet again, won’t we, Charles?’
‘Of course we will,’ smiled Charles.
Their kindness was balm to Emilia’s troubled spirit. Even so, although she tried to put a good face on things she could not hide her hurt.
‘Don’t worry, you will soon feel as right as rain,’ said Julia, sensing her low mood and giving her hand a squeeze. ‘It’s not as though you lost a loved one. You don’t think so now, but you’ll soon recover, you’ll see.’
Julia’s words, kindly meant, awoke all Emilia’s grief, and as she stepped out of the car when they reached Charles’s apartment, her tears mingled with the rain.
Carl stood in his office next to a huge window and looked out over the city. His office was on the top floor of the building, and from his high vantage point he could see the life of New York teeming below him. But the one life he wanted to see was not there. He had tried to keep his mind on his work, but it had been to no avail. The wi
ndow had drawn him as it always did. He could not concentrate on anything since his return to New York. He could think of only one thing: Emilia.
Not that he had let it show. He had kept up appearances, attending to his business and going to the functions he’d agreed to attend before leaving for Europe, but his heart was not in it.
He had much to be thankful for. He knew that. His mother had been saved, as had Pansy, Robert and Hutton, and he himself had survived. But he had lost Emilia. His mind went back to the beautiful young woman who had claimed his heart. She had been nothing like the society ladies he had known, who were artificial in word and deed, with their every gesture calculated and practised to the highest degree. Nor had she been like the women he had known in his youth; ground down by work and poverty and yet still good-hearted and earthy. She had been an alluring mixture of both worlds: delicate and beautiful, but with a naturalness and honesty about her that he had found irresistible. Time and again, his thoughts returned to her, and to the feelings and experiences they had shared aboard Titanic. It had been the most stimulating and enriching time of his life. But it had been too brief.
His thoughts moved on, to the moment he had put her into the lifeboat. He had gone into the sea with the satisfaction of thinking she would be safe. Discovering that she had not been rescued had been terrible, but he had still clung on to hope. One of the other rescue ships, arriving on the scene shortly after Carpathia, could have taken her on board. It was with this hope in mind that he had arrived in New York.
And there to meet him on the pier had been, not Emilia, but Miss Stott. It could not have been worse. Miss Stott, with her shallowness and her hypocrisy, was the complete opposite of Emilia’s honesty and warmth. Her condolences had disgusted him, and he had been brusque, even rude. He had made it clear that he had no intention of marrying her, and had all but physically pushed past her in his hurry to find out if any of the other rescue ships had taken Emilia on board. The pain of discovering that none of them had taken any survivors out of the sea had been intense. But even the pain had been preferable to the numbness that had gripped him ever since. He had tried to throw himself into his work, without success. He could think about one thing and one thing only: that he had lost her.
Titanic Affair Page 19
