Seven Days in May

by Kim Izzo

  Isabel froze. The air was so still, not even a spring breeze to mask the exasperation in Henry’s tone.

  “You didn’t tell Mildred about the letter, did you?”

  “Don’t be daft!” Henry said. “You can trust me, Isabel. I swear it.”

  Isabel breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe once again from losing the only thing that mattered: her work.

  Edward

  The bow was empty but for one man leaning on the railing smoking a cigarette. Edward’s heart sank. He had sent a note to Sydney asking her to meet him here. She had run off last night because he had spoken the truth. Now he needed to know what she felt for him, if anything. As Edward drew closer to the man, he recognized him as Sydney’s friend Walter. Perhaps he would know her whereabouts.

  “Good day, Walter,” Edward said. Walter nodded and took a drag from his cigarette, continuing to stare at the ocean. Edward settled in beside him. He wondered what Walter knew about his pining for Sydney. He doubted she would have confessed anything to another man. Then again, with Sydney you could never be too sure.

  “I keep looking across the surface, studying it,” Walter said at last. “It’s like a plate of glass today.”

  “It is,” Edward agreed. “You looking for anything in particular?”

  Walter grunted. “Submarines. We sailed into the war zone early this morning.”

  Edward followed Walter’s gaze across the endless water to the horizon. He’d noticed the effect of the war zone had been to rouse patriotic fervour from passengers and crew alike. The thought brought Edward back to reality. The rush of romance was momentarily cast aside for the grimness of the enemy.

  “I wonder how many are lurking out there. Waiting for us,” Walter continued.

  “German U-boats are ugly machines,” Edward said. “They do ugly work.”

  “You’re right about that. Their telescopes are like the eye of a sea monster,” Walter said.

  “I’m always amazed how invincible our countrymen seemed to think we are,” Edward said. “Listening to them go on about a swift end to the conflict like it were a football match and not a bloody battlefield.”

  “Bloody it is. I’ve read enough of my brothers’ letters to know that. Got two of them already over in France, Herbert and Francis. The trenches and fields are clotted with death. As is the sea the Lusitania is pushing through. Submarines and battleships are no less deadly than infantry and cannon fire,” Walter said. “Even the skies are part of it and if what the newspapers are reporting is true, soon enough there will be combat in the air above us all.”

  Edward thought back to Mrs. Taft Smith and her engine blueprints. He would seek her out later to learn more. “Aircraft are being designed with machine guns already,” Edward said. “And when that is perfected there will be no part of the world free from bloodshed.” His words didn’t alter his desire to join the Royal Flying Corps.

  Walter offered Edward a cigarette. He declined. “I’ll soon be part of it. My younger brother, Gerry, is going to join up with me and together we’ll find our brothers and fight,” Walter said, and grinned slyly. “A family reunion on the battlefield. Surely Britain’s got to triumph.”

  Edward imagined that fighting alongside one’s family would be a comfort. But not so for Walter’s parents should the worst happen. “I’m to take up a commission in June,” Edward said.

  If Walter was impressed he didn’t show it. He took a final drag of the cigarette, then tossed it overboard. “What rank?”

  “Lieutenant.”

  “Perhaps you’ll command my unit,” he said, and continued his vigil at the rail. “Fritz is out there somewhere. I aim to spot him if I can.”

  “They have a lookout for that,” Edward pointed out.

  Walter smiled. “I trust my own eyes.”

  Edward looked up at the Navigation Deck and saw the figures of Staff Captain Anderson and Captain Turner emerge from the bridge and make their way down to the Boat Deck. He had tried in vain to send a message to his parents to warn them that the wedding might not take place. But the purser, a man named McCubbin, had thwarted his plan. The Lusitania was banned from transmitting messages when she entered the war zone and was only able to receive them. No amount of his insisting had made the purser budge. The Marconi operators were up there on the bridge too. Would it really be such a travesty for him to plead with the young men who were in charge of the transmitter? He doubted Captain Turner would be any help. He and Anderson seemed to be inspecting the lifeboats that had been swung out earlier.

  “You haven’t seen Sydney today?” Edward said, turning back to Walter.

  “She was at breakfast.”

  “How did she seem?”

  Walter glanced at Edward, judging him. “You’re engaged to her sister, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Edward said. “Brooke.”

  Walter tilted his head, his eyes narrowed. “Then why are you always looking for Sydney?”

  Sydney

  She had avoided Edward all day. The note he sent was waiting for her after she’d left Brooke in the morning. He wanted to meet on the bow in the same spot they’d accidentally met on the first day of the voyage. Let him and his financial agenda wait. But the Lusitania, for all her immense size, wasn’t large enough to prevent Edward finding her in the end. She had kept inside much of the day but the need for fresh sea air had tempted her onto the third class Promenade Deck. She didn’t think he’d come there.

  “Sydney!” he called out when he saw her. She stood her ground as he approached.

  “Edward,” she said flatly, and turned away.

  He noticed the scarf immediately. “Why do you have the scarf Georgina made?” he asked. “Did Brooke give it to you?”

  Sydney removed the scarf from her shoulders and held it out to him. He took it, puzzled.

  “I forgot I’d taken it,” she said. “You may give it back to her.”

  She avoided looking at him because she might burst into tears or, worse, pound her fists into his chest for playing her for a fool.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” he asked her urgently. She shook her head but she felt tears filling her eyes. Why did she always cry when she was angry? Couldn’t tears wait until she was alone in her cabin? “Tell me, darling,” he pleaded.

  “Don’t call me darling,” she snapped, and forced herself to look at him. “I had a talk with my sister this morning.”

  “I see,” he answered.

  “She knows,” Sydney said simply.

  “What does she know?”

  “Oh Edward, don’t be a simpleton! She knows you don’t want to marry her. She suspects you have feelings for me—”

  “I am in love with you,” he said, cutting her off.

  Sydney’s face was stone. “Are you, Edward? That is convenient. Brooke made another point. That it doesn’t matter which one of us you marry. We’re interchangeable to you. I’m as wealthy as she is. Perhaps you’re playing the both of us.” She attempted to walk away but he grabbed her arm and held her. Alarmed, she yanked herself free.

  “I’m sorry,” Edward said, distressed by his action. “But what she says isn’t true. I don’t want to be with you because you’re wealthy. This whole exercise has been a disaster. You’ve proven to me that a person can live the life they want without fearing what society thinks. I want that too. I want to be with you. I want to marry you.”

  “Maybe you do, Edward. But marrying me means you don’t have to choose. Well, I’m deciding for you. You can marry Brooke if saving Rathfon Hall means that much to you. And you can leave me alone,” she said, glowering at him.

  “I would be with you if you had no fortune,” he said firmly. “That you do have one is a nice addition, I won’t deny it. I won’t deny it because that would be dishonest. I’m no liar, Sydney.”

  “If you say so,” she answered. “I must go and pack my things. I’m moving to the Regal Suite to be with my sister. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Befor
e you go, tell me one thing,” he said. She stopped and waited, her eyes focused on the scarf in his hands. He took a step toward her. “Did Brooke tell you she loves me?”

  Sydney didn’t want to answer. She went and stood by the railing and watched the sea. Her gull was back, soaring peacefully alongside the ship. They weren’t particularly handsome birds but there was something regal about a creature that could fly above it all. Edward followed and was hovering beside her.

  “Tell me, Sydney,” he insisted. “I’d like to know.”

  Sydney’s gaze moved from the seagull to the water below. It made her dizzy staring down like that. The surface so far beneath, the water churning with the power of the Lusitania’s engines—it was transfixing but also terrifying.

  “Tell me,” Edward said, his voice rising.

  “No!” Sydney shouted, and whirled around to face him. “She doesn’t love you. There, are you happy?”

  “But that’s good news, isn’t it? Brooke doesn’t love me and I don’t love her.” He grasped Sydney’s hand in his. “Surely that must make it right. We won’t be breaking her heart.”

  She took her hand away and turned back to the railing. The gull had disappeared.

  “You should know one more thing,” he continued. “Even if you reject me I will not be marrying your sister. I’m calling off the engagement. It is over.”

  Sydney let his words sink in. “You would end things with Brooke and risk losing Rathfon Hall? That would create a bit of a scandal.”

  “I am not afraid,” Edward said, and smiled. “We love each other, Sydney. We should be together.”

  “I never said I loved you,” she whispered.

  “But you do, don’t you?” he asked her, his voice unsteady. “If you don’t, then tell me and I will leave you alone.”

  Her eyes drifted out to sea once again. The water was a very dark slate. The tinge of blue that the sun produced had faded with the arrival of the clouds. The voyage would soon be over and normal life would resume. A transatlantic crossing was akin to running away and joining the circus. Men and women were thrown together in close quarters for days. Of course emotions would fly, out of boredom if nothing else. This was a shipboard romance, just like in a novel. She tried to convince herself that was the reason for her predicament, for behaving so unlike herself. Except the truth struck her with the weight of the Lusitania itself: she did love him.

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  His reaction was as if she’d shouted it from the bridge. He took her in his arms and kissed her. The pressure of his mouth against hers was more than she could take and she kissed him back. His arms were strong and held her protectively. Then came a wash of shame.

  “Please stop,” Sydney said. He released her. “Whatever is between us it is too complicated to ever result in our happiness. I am a woman of principle, Edward. You must know that about me by now. And I will be damned if I will intentionally hurt my only family.” They stood in silence a moment, each waiting for the other to speak. Sydney was reeling inside. She had never felt such a rush of emotions for a man and to have it be tainted by guilt was overwhelming. As she looked at him, part of her was desperate to be held and kissed, part of her wanted to slap his face. She compromised and said simply, “I’ve never been in love before, Edward.”

  Her words proved to be more encouraging than she had intended. “As it turns out, nor have I,” he said, his voice edged with excitement. “This isn’t your fault.” She gazed at him, hopeful. “And it isn’t mine either. We didn’t plan this, Sydney. It happened.”

  That much was true. She also knew that what would happen next was her decision. Her choice. She could turn and walk away or she could run into his arms again. It was up to her. “Then let us part as friends,” she said, and held out her hand.

  Edward took her hand and wouldn’t let go. “Come with me . . .”

  “No,” she said, and shook her head.

  “I cannot let you go so easily,” he insisted. “I want to kiss you goodbye and hold you one last time.”

  She felt herself give in to her feelings—what was one last kiss—and allowed him to lead her into the ship and along the passageway and down the many steps to her berth. He didn’t seem to care whom they passed or who saw them. They reached her cabin and entered. The bed was freshly made and the porthole was open, letting in the ocean breeze.

  “We shouldn’t be here,” she said faintly, not really wanting to resist.

  “Just for a moment. I want to kiss you again and not worry about—”

  “Anyone seeing us?” she said. “That’s my point. We can’t be together without hiding.”

  He put his fingers on her lips to silence her. She kissed his fingers softly and this time it was she who leaned in. They kissed passionately and she couldn’t stop despite the voice inside her head telling her that she was throwing her principles overboard. That her sister would be devastated. That her behaviour went completely against everything she believed in. Yet the feel of him against her, touching her, was more than she could take. And within moments all thoughts of guilt and betrayal were washed away. Their bodies became intertwined as they moved toward the bed. Gently Edward lifted her into his arms and placed her on the bed. He removed his topcoat and loosened his shirt. Sydney looked up at him. He was ending the engagement no matter what. She could trust him. He didn’t love Brooke. Her sister didn’t love him. She had never loved him. She never would love him. I love him. Sydney’s emotions were no longer under her control.

  He lay beside her and cradled her in his arms. She stroked his chest with her hand. His muscles were hard, taut. She kissed his chest and neck until he couldn’t take it and pushed her away lightly. “Sydney, I’m a gentleman but I am also a man,” he teased. “We mustn’t go further.”

  “Love me, Edward,” she said. “I want you.”

  He stared into her eyes. She knew it wasn’t what a girl with her upbringing should do. But neither was marching in protests or punching a policeman. She was a modern girl; she knew a woman could enjoy a man. And she knew about precautions. The contraceptive samples she’d brought with her were within arm’s reach.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she told him, and kissed him again. This time their lips parted and she felt his tongue enter her mouth. In that moment and for the next several moments there was no fear of being found out or of worrying about weddings and angry relatives, there was just the two of them alone, their bodies melting into each other’s and the sensual feel of him. She cried out when he first entered her but then it was all pleasure. He kissed her hungrily and his movements were more frantic, more intense than anything she’d imagined. This Edward was not so proper. She couldn’t imagine this man sitting at the head of a table of posh Englishmen and women. She found herself smiling as he kissed her and then suddenly those particular thoughts vanished and more instinctive feelings arose from deep inside her body.

  When it was over she lay naked in his arms. She had never envisioned how sex could change how you felt about someone, how it deepened feelings that were already there and stirred new ones. But it also made Sydney ashamed of what she’d done.

  He studied at her. “You look upset,” he said tenderly.

  She forced a smile. “I was thinking we shouldn’t have done what we did.”

  “Your sister—”

  “Please, don’t speak about her. Not while we are lying here like this,” she said, and sat up. “You should leave.”

  He lifted her hand in his and kissed it. “Do not regret what happened.”

  She watched their entwined hands. “I can’t promise that,” she confessed. “I heard you the other night. When Brooke said I brought shame to my family name. You stood up for me, in front of her and those other people.”

  It was his turn to look serious. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  “I was hiding, I’ve found a spot near the Bostwick gate where I can look into the main entrance,” she explained, tears wel
ling up. “But maybe she is right. Look at me now. I am capable of bringing shame to the Sinclairs.”

  Edward held her tightly as she cried. “Falling in love is nothing to be ashamed of,” he said.

  She could see from his face that he was suffering as well. “What are we to do, Edward?”

  “I will speak to Brooke when we arrive in Liverpool,” he said, and kissed her bare shoulder. “I will make her understand.”

  Sydney was skeptical. “You think she will?”

  “I think by now even she will have to admit we are ill-matched,” he said, and smiled at her. “We will all find happiness when this is over.”

  Isabel

  Hours had passed since she’d given the telegram to Lord Fisher’s secretary. She was desperate to know what was being done to warn the ships in the area. Her opportunity came with the arrival of Rotter and Denniston who had been in a hush-hush meeting the past two hours with Captain Hall and Commander Hope. Their expressions gave her no indication of what had happened and there was no legitimate reason for her to ask.

  “Smile at Alastair, Dorothy,” Isabel instructed.

  “Whatever for?” Dorothy asked, looking up from her pile of paperwork. “Not that I mind.”

  “I need you to get his attention please,” she said.

  Dorothy winked at her. “Mr. Denniston, may I have a word?” She smiled conspiratorially. Her charms worked and within seconds Denniston was at the typing pool.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  Dorothy opened her mouth but her jaw went slack. She had nothing to say. Denniston tilted his head.

  “Mr. Denniston, do you know from your meeting if the Admiralty is sending a warning to the ships in the area, such as the Lusitania?” Isabel blurted out. Dorothy shut her mouth so hard her teeth clicked. He rubbed his chin a moment.

  “You will be relieved to know that the Admiralty is sending out messages en clair and encoded messages to all British ships in the area,” he explained confidently. “And that includes the Lusitania. All will be warned that there are submarines active off Fastnet.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Denniston” Isabel said. She was relieved. But he wasn’t finished.