The Pattern Artist

by Moser, Nancy;

She rushed toward him. “What’s wrong?”

  The boy looked up at her, confused. Of course. He couldn’t understand her. Since Sean could speak French, she called him over. “Shh. It will be all right, little one,” she said, kneeling down to his level. To Sean she said, “Ask him what’s wrong.”

  “Quel est le problème?” Sean asked.

  The boy let out an agitated discourse, pointing this way and that.

  Mrs. Sampson and Maude joined them. Mrs. Sampson listened intently. “His mother is missing? And she’s expecting a baby?” she asked Sean.

  “Seems so,” Sean said. He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, trying to calm him. “Il sera très bien. Ne vous inquiétez pas. Nous trouverons votre mère.”

  Suddenly there were shouts of, “En voiture!“

  They all stood erect and looked toward the train. They were boarding.

  “Go on ahead,” Annie told the others. “I’ll stay with the boy until he finds his mother.”

  “But you can’t speak French,” Sean said. “And I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “And I’m not going on the train without either of you,” Maude said.

  “Well, gracious sakes,” Mrs. Sampson said. “You stay, we stay. Harold, go see if you can get our luggage off.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  “We’ll catch up to it in Cherbourg.”

  Annie looked over the crowd and spotted Madame’s face in the window of the train. She and Sean ran toward her. “Madame, we are staying behind to help a boy find his mother.”

  “What?”

  Annie shook her head. “We need to help a boy.”

  “Zat is absurd. Let someone else help him.”

  Sean shook his head. “But no one else was helping him. He needs us—for a short while.”

  “Ze ship will not wait,” Madame said.

  Sean and Annie exchanged a look, and then Sean said, “Then we will board another ship.”

  Annie was ever so proud of him. “Go on, madame. We will see you in New York.”

  Madame looked past them. “Zis is ridiculous. You don’t know ze boy. Let one of ze officials handle it.”

  That was an option, but Annie felt an intense nudge to stick with it to the end. “It will be all right. Let us do this. We must do this.”

  Madame rolled her eyes. “You are all ridiculous.” The train began to move. She dismissed them with a flip of her hand.

  Annie’s heart beat wildly in her throat. What were they doing? It didn’t make sense.

  Sean took her arm. “We’ve made our choice. Let’s see it through.”

  They returned to the boy, who was sitting next to Mrs. Sampson on a bench.

  “Was Madame upset?” Maude asked.

  “Confused,” Annie said. “You realize we will probably miss the ship and have to take another.”

  “C’est la vie,” Mrs. Sampson said. “It won’t be the first time. Two years ago we missed a ship that was taking us from Naples to Lisbon because I wasn’t feeling well. When we boarded another ship a week later we met the nicest couple from Barcelona. We still correspond.”

  Annie felt an odd comfort in the story. Whatever her feelings, what was done was done.

  Mr. Sampson returned from the platform. “It’s too late. Our luggage is going on without us.”

  “So be it,” Mrs. Sampson said.

  Suddenly Annie looked down at the luggage that she, Sean, and Maude had taken from the trolley. “It’s good we have ours.”

  “Us staying behind … it’s like it was meant to be,” Maude said.

  It was. But enough about luggage. “Have you learned any more about the boy’s mother and where she might be?”

  “His name is André,” Mrs. Sampson said. “He and his mother were waiting for his father to arrive from Calais. His mother said she wasn’t feeling well, and told the boy to wait for her. But she didn’t come back.”

  “I checked the ladies’,” Maude said. “No expectant mothers in there.”

  Mr. Sampson glanced at his pocket watch. “The father’s train should arrive within the half hour.”

  “Good,” Maude said. “Then he will take care of it.”

  Annie shook her head. Oddly, she felt an extreme sense of urgency. “But that may be too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  The baby? “We need to search for the mother. Get the porters to help. We stayed here for a reason. She needs us, too.” They nodded in agreement, but just before they spread out, Annie felt a nudge to instigate something she’d never done before. “Stop a moment. We need to pray.”

  The contingent bowed their heads and each said a silent prayer. André crossed himself.

  Mrs. Sampson stayed with the boy, and the rest of them fanned out over the enormous depot, gathering support from railway workers along the way. Even a gendarme became involved.

  Annie looked again in the ladies’, asking various women if they’d seen an expectant mother. Having no luck, she tried to imagine about how a very pregnant woman would react if she didn’t feel well. Or if—even worse—she felt the baby coming.

  She would seek a quiet place. A place to sit or lie down.

  Annie walked the length of the waiting hall, peering through every archway. She was about to turn back when she heard a moan.

  There she was! The woman was on the floor, her back to the wall, curled in pain, hidden from sight by a stack of crates. Annie knelt beside her. “Madame?”

  The woman’s eyes flashed with relief. She took hold of Annie’s arm and pointed to her stomach. “Le bébé s’en vient! Aide-moi!“

  “The baby. It’s coming?”

  “Le bébé!”

  Annie stood. The woman grabbed at her, obviously afraid she would leave. Annie patted her hand. “I’ll get help.” She remembered a French word. “Aide.”

  The woman nodded. “Merci.״

  Annie stepped onto the platform and saw Sean talking to a couple in the crowd. “Sean! She’s here! She’s having the baby. Get help!”

  Sean nodded and was off. Annie returned to the woman and sat beside her. She removed her jacket, rolled it up, and placed it under her head. She stroked her hair, which was matted with perspiration.

  Suddenly the woman’s eyes grew wide and panicked, and she looked out toward the platform. “Où est mon fils? Mon fils!״

  Annie realized she must be asking about her son. “Your boy? Garçon?”

  The woman nodded.

  Annie pressed her hands down, trying to portray calm. “He’s safe. He’s all right. Très bien.”

  The woman nodded then without warning grabbed her stomach and moaned loudly. Her face contorted and her entire body tensed. She held Annie’s hand so tightly it caused pain.

  “Hold on, hold on!”

  Please God, help mother and baby be all right.

  A doctor who’d been waiting to board a train came to the rescue and delivered the baby girl right there on the floor where Annie had found her—found Maria.

  Annie witnessed the entire birth because Maria insisted she stay with her. She’d never even been around a woman who was expecting, much less be there at the birth, but Maria and the doctor did the work. Annie held her hand, mopped her brow, and offered reassuring words that needed no translation.

  The baby was born and took her first breath then wailed at being forced out of her warm and dark cocoon into the cold and light. Annie cried happy tears with Maria.

  Accompanying the miracle were waves of gratitude and praise to God, not just for the new life and the health of the mother, but for the sacred experience Annie had been allowed to share.

  Annie left Maria’s side and helped the doctor with the baby. A blanket, towels, and a bucket of water had been procured from somewhere, and once the cord was cut, Annie set the baby on a crate to wash her. The little girl squirmed, her fingers and arms spread wide as if she were testing her new limits. Once the baby was clean, Annie wrapped her in warmth and held her close, bouncing to calm her. For a br
ief moment, the baby opened her eyes. “Hello there,” Annie whispered. “Welcome.”

  Maria held out her hands, needing to hold what she had nurtured for nine months. Annie placed the baby in her arms. Maria cuddled and cooed at her, and Annie witnessed an instant love between mother and child. An everlasting love.

  Suddenly a man came around the stack of crates that had offered the only privacy to the moment and ran to his wife and daughter. The doctor was also finished and washed his hands in the bucket. “You did well to help me, miss.”

  Annie could only nod. Her part was over. She moved to leave, but the husband called to her. “Mademoiselle, attendez!”

  Annie turned back to them.

  “Comment vous appelez-vous?” he asked, pointing at her. “Le nom?”

  She pointed at herself. “Annie.”

  He nodded and exchanged a look with his wife. She pointed at the baby then said, “Annie.”

  They were naming the baby after her? Annie put a hand to her mouth and nodded. “Merci.”

  He nodded his head and made a motion to include his whole family. “Merci beaucoup.” Then he added, “Que Dieu vous bénisse“ and crossed himself.

  She guessed at his words. “May God bless you, too.”

  Behind her André approached tentatively. His father motioned him over, and the family was fully united. Annie slipped into the crowd.

  “A girl?” Mrs. Sampson asked.

  “Her name is Annie.”

  “They named her after you?” Maude asked.

  Suddenly Annie’s emotions got the better of her, and she began to sob. Sean pulled her into his arms.

  While the baby was being born, Mr. Sampson made arrangements for passage on another ship and booked three rooms at a nearby hotel—at his expense. They enjoyed a light supper together, but Annie remembered little of it. She walked through the rest of the day and evening in a happy daze. The others respected her distance and talked around her, but their voices were vague, as though she were hearing them from the next room.

  When it was time to retire, she went through the motions of her evening toilette by rote—and Maude had to help her out of her bodice when she forgot to unbutton the cuffs.

  In her nightdress she sat upon the bed and found she could go no further without full release. “I witnessed a baby being born,” she said.

  Maude paused in the braiding of her hair. “I know.”

  “A new life, right there in the train station.”

  “Not ideal. Poor woman.”

  Annie blinked, bringing herself fully into the moment. “Fully ideal,” she said with a shake of her head. “As if it was meant to be.”

  “The baby was meant to be born in a corner of a train station, on a dirty floor?”

  Annie looked to the ceiling. It was hard to explain. “What if I hadn’t heard André crying? What if we hadn’t understood his mother was missing? What if we hadn’t found her in time?”

  “Someone else would have helped. Maybe.”

  “Maybe. But they didn’t. We did.”

  “We missed our train and a chance to sail on the largest ship in the world. I was looking forward to being on the maiden voyage of the Titanic. It’s been much talked about and is supposedly enormous and very lavish.”

  Maude was missing the point. Annie placed a fist at her stomach. “I feel very strongly that everything that happened today happened for a reason.”

  Maude got in her bed and pulled the covers up. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Finally!

  The travelers stood at the rail as their ship left the dock at Cherbourg. They were only two days tardy from their previous schedule, but it seemed as though a lifetime had passed between April 10—and the birth of little Annie—and today.

  And though they weren’t experiencing the excitement of being on the luxurious Titanic, their accommodations were first-class. Literally. For Mr. Sampson had booked the young people two first-class cabins. Being pampered started out as a bit of a lark, but it soon revealed its lesser merits.

  Looking around at the exquisite attire of the other passengers, Annie felt horribly underdressed. “We don’t belong here, with these toffs.”

  Mrs. Sampson shooed the thought away. “As I know these ‘toffs,’ I also know that a little frippery and finery is not a measure of good character. You fit in with the best of them, Annie, and you overshadow the worst.”

  Annie laughed. “You do have a talent for making me feel right about myself.”

  Mrs. Sampson winked. “Ah, but I have ulterior motives, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “We’ll talk at dinner.” She turned to her husband. “Come, Harold. Let’s take a stroll and leave these young people to wonder after us.”

  As soon as they left, Sean said, “She is eccentric.”

  “That she is,” Maude said.

  “But an eccentric woman of good character,” Annie said. “They wouldn’t have had to stay behind when we found André.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” Maude said. “I do hope Madame is enjoying her voyage without us.” There was sarcasm in her voice.

  “We rarely saw her on the trip over,” Annie pointed out. “She probably hasn’t realized we’re absent.”

  Maude faced away from the sea. “I for one don’t miss her, either. What do you say we stir up some mischief in the game room?”

  “Gaming parlor,” Annie corrected. “We’re first-class now.”

  Maude affected a haughty stance and flipped her hand. “Come on, then. Let us dally and dawdle with the other upper crusts.”

  Their dinner in the first-class dining room rivaled their dinner at Café de la Paix. Six courses were served by white-gloved footmen. At first Annie thought it impossible that she would have the capacity to eat all the courses, but because of the refined pace of the service, she managed to enjoy each item—including Charlotte Russe for dessert. She’d seen the cook at Crompton Hall create the ladyfinger-and-fruit-cream delicacy but had never been allowed to taste it. Until now.

  She savored every bite and tried not to close her eyes and moan at its scrumptiousness.

  Tried and failed. “This is heavenly.”

  “Would you like another?” Mrs. Sampson asked. “It’s fully within the concept of no limits stated in the first-class rule book.”

  “There’s a rule book?” Mr. Sampson asked.

  “Unwritten, dear one, but valid just the same.”

  “This one helping is plenty,” Annie said. “It will more than suffice.”

  Mrs. Sampson laughed. “Well, then.” She waved to the waiter to remove her plate. “We have tippy-toed through conversations involving all things but the conversation I’ve been longing to have regarding your future.”

  Her husband shook his head. “Subtlety is not my wife’s strong suit.”

  “I see no need,” she said. “Annie knows the plans we have for her. We only need her yes and the world will fall at her feet.”

  “My,” Maude said. “All that for a yes? But may I ask what the question is?”

  Mrs. Sampson looked confused. “You haven’t shared with your best friend?”

  Annie shook her head, feeling guilty for it.

  “Shared what?” Maude asked.

  Mrs. Sampson did the honors. “Harold and I have offered financial backing and support for Annie to start her own fashion house, focusing on function over fad.”

  Maude blinked, and Annie could almost see her mind whirling. “I’ll set aside my disappointment that you’ve kept me in the dark to advise you to say yes, Annie. If you don’t, I will.”

  Mrs. Sampson got an odd look on her face then said, “Actually, I think that would be a fine idea. Why don’t both you and Sean join Annie in her new venture?”

  The notion beamed upon the table like a ray of sunlight sent from God. What had seemed gray and cloudy now glowed with promise. “You’d do that?” Annie asked. “You’d let all three of us work
together and open a design shop?”

  “‘Shop’ is too meager a word, but yes,” Mrs. Sampson said with a glance to her husband. “I think that would be a capital idea. Don’t you, my dear?”

  Mr. Sampson nodded and turned his coffee spoon over and over against the tablecloth. “I don’t see why not. From what I’ve heard, you all have different talents to bring to the venture.”

  Sean raised a hand. “It’s true that I have sales experience, and Maude—”

  Maude interrupted. “I know dress construction better than anyone on the planet.”

  Mrs. Sampson laughed. “Confidence. I like that.”

  Mr. Sampson set the spoon aside and leaned forward. “So with the two of you we have sales and construction, and Annie brings design and illustration talent. With our financial backing and connections, it sounds like the makings of a strong and vibrant company.”

  “Hear, hear!” Mrs. Sampson said.

  Sean looked at Annie. “Seeing the idea in this new light, as a larger whole … I never thought I’d say this, but it would be exciting to be a part of something totally new.”

  Annie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She’d never imagined the Sampsons would consider including Sean and Maude, but she now realized she couldn’t imagine the venture without them. Yet to draw them into something that would pluck them out of the positions they’d held for years … “Are you sure?” she asked her friends. “It’s an enormous risk. I am still new to this business. You two have far more experience, and your careers are well established. You’d be giving up much more than I.” She looked directly at Sean. “When I previously mentioned this offer you seemed against it.”

  He bit his lip. “I wanted us to be together at Butterick. I didn’t want to lose you.”

  Mrs. Sampson touched his arm. “And now you will be together.” She turned her attention back to Annie. “You have intrinsic talent, my dear. It’s a gift recently discovered, but a gift nonetheless.”

  Annie felt herself blush at the flattery and the opportunity. “This newest discussion has flipped the world on its axis.”

  “Because it’s showing its full form, it’s falling into place,” Mrs. Sampson said. “Seeing you at the fashion show and having this special time on the ship together are blessings from God. I do not believe in coincidence.”