The Light in the Darkness 2

by Carla Louise Robinson

  Adene could not help but hope that the men weren’t British. A few bore brown skin, and some looked to be Italians, which calmed her some – foreigners lacked bravery. Adene’s Robert would not have rushed the lifeboat. He would have stood by, watching and helping women and children, the way Cillian was doing so.

  “Get in!” roared the officer to Hart. He was fiddling with his revolver, and a sickening feeling reeled into Adene’s gut. “We’ll need a sailor to man the crew.”

  Adene looked at Hart, wondering if he was fit for sailing, commanding the lifeboat. She would not wish harm upon the man that had clearly been saving so many – including hers, her daughter’s, Claire’s and Nora’s – lives, but why him, when so many other men were likely to deserve it just as much? Cillian was a solid three feet taller than Hart, perhaps more, and broad-chested. Even if he’d never had a day’s sailing experience, he had more strength than at least half the men hiding in Lifeboat 15.

  Adene focused her attention on one of the firemen; he was almost black, but he’d clearly been in the water; his head beaded with water, and parts of him were eerily wiped clean. What had happened below? How had he managed to survive? What had he witnessed?

  Adene was settling the girls between her and Claire, who had given Cillian a brief goodbye, though Adene did not have the heart to inform her that she should give Cillian a proper goodbye, as she would likely never see him again. “I forgot something,” Claire suddenly whispered to Adene.

  “Well, forget it. It’s lost,” Adene retorted.

  Before Adene could protest, Claire suddenly jumped up. “I forget my Ma’s hat,” she announced to the officer, and Adene was perplexed. Claire leapt from the boat, before Adene could quietly whisper to her that the ship was, indeed, sinking. Adene glanced around; some of the men were trying to make a second rush of the boat, and the women were still sobbing after the officer’s weapon had been brandished. She couldn’t bear to imagine what would take place if she suddenly shouted to Claire that she would likely die if she dared returned to their cabin. “Nora, stay with Miss Adene and Isla, okay? I won’t be in this boat, but I’ve got to get something. I cannot afford to lose it. You be good, and I’ll meet up with you later, okay?” Claire turned to the officer. “This is Lifeboat 15, is it not? I will need to know for later.” The Officer, Murdoch, looked at her, a glazed, haunted look in his eyes.

  “Yes, but Miss –” Claire turned on her heel, ignoring the officer’s warning.

  Adene jerked her head; she wanted to scream at Claire not be so daft, and she saw the irate, affluent passenger do the same – he called after her, shouting, “Miss! Please, you need to get into the lifeboat,” though neither party seemed to have a chance to stop her friend; the boat was already being lowered jerkily to A Deck, though not much supervision was given. More men fought for a position in the lifeboat, crowded though it already was, battering some of the women and causing the children to cry, before the officers ordered it to be lowered away. Adene was confused as to why some of the boats were being loaded at A Deck; it was difficult for the passengers to climb through the boarded windows. She wondered if the Captain hadn’t thought of the hazard, if he wanted all his passengers to get into lifeboats safely. Remembering the gap, Adene was surprised no one had fallen through the crevasse yet.

  Lifeboat Fifteen begun their second journey to the ocean floor when she heard screams emerging from below them; they were about to crush the lifeboat below them.

  “Someone! Stop!” Hart called up to the officers.

  “They can’t hear us, you daft prick,” snapped the fireman.

  “They’ll be crushed!” a woman cried; Adene swung her head over the side. She watched as a man – who looked similar to the man covered in coal in her own lifeboat, though wetter - reached for a small pocket knife, cutting the ropes that securely held the lifeboat in the davits, and another man, who clearly had come from below too, followed suit. The passengers were able to push the raft away at the last minute, and no one stopped rowing – and then women didn’t stop crying – for twenty minutes.

  Adene’s lifeboat, minus Claire, hit the ocean a few seconds later.

  Chapter Forty

  Monday, April 15th, 1912

  Henry

  Henry fiddled with Celia’s comb that was tucked safely in his pocket. He was one of the few passengers who had remained on the Boat Deck while the officers were preparing to launch the lifeboats – most had stayed inside; some still were, preferring the warmth and safety of the Titanic to the open abyss of the waiting ocean.

  Henry didn’t blame them; the wind was rough, biting and whipping his face. He had not wished to join the other passengers in the gymnasium, afraid he would bump into Celia and her family. He needed to catch Cecilia on her own, to assure her he’d kept her hair piece safe, that she needn’t worry, that no one would be the wiser that she had visited him in his suite. A precarious move on Cecilia’s part, all to inform him of her father’s demands, to tell him that she was choosing him, if he would have.

  If he would have her.

  What a ludicrous statement, if Henry had ever heard one. Cecilia had not even been a part of his life for longer than a week, and yet, he felt as if he had known her his whole life. He knew that she liked being called Celia by her family and loved ones; that she did not care for snobbery; that she possessed a curious mind, desperate to learn of things she knew nothing about. Henry had learnt superficial details about Cecilia – her favourite colour (blue), and her intense dislike for smoked herrings – but those things were easy to learn. Everyone had a favourite colour, a food they didn’t care for, a favourite song.

  Not everyone involved themselves in the suffragette movement – however small – and dedicated themselves to learning what they could.

  Celia was the type of woman he had dreamed of marrying but doubted he ever would. Yet, she had chosen him.

  Henry turned to Milton Long, who shared a cabin berth next to his. He and Jack Thayer had become fast friends; in turn, Henry had become familiar with both men. He’d played a few squash matches between the two. “You found your parents yet, Jack?” Henry asked.

  Jack shook his head. “I’m hoping they’ve already boarded.”

  Henry did not want to tell Jack that, while he and Milton had been scuffling around, trying to sight the iceberg, the officers had not been inclined to allow too many men to board, and many boats were leaving not even a quarter full. While he imagined Mrs Thayer would have easily sought passage, should she have wanted it, Mr Thayer would likely not be granted the same. Still, Henry remembered what being a man of seventeen was like. It was hard to fathom a catastrophe of this sort; the mind refused to process the information it was receiving, oft times choosing to straight out reject what they were witnessing.

  Henry knew, from when his family had been evicted from Russia, how difficult it was to accept what lay in front of you.

  Out of the corner of Henry’s eye, he spied Georgiana, standing on the deck, shivering in a nightgown and fur coat, her braided hair tousled, a bewildered look upon her face. “Excuse me, Jack, Milton,” Henry said. “There’s someone I need to speak with.” The two young men nodded. “Best of luck.”

  “And to you,” the boys replied.

  Henry hoped luck, or God, or fate, would intervene.

  He wasn’t sure the ship was as safe as many believed it was.

  The ice that had punctured throwing his porthole, landing on his bed, was proof of that.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Monday, April 15th, 1912

  Claire

  Claire passed a man who was yelling at her – he was dressed in silk pyjamas and a nightrobe – and grabbed Cillian’s arm tightly. She was pleased; she had not wanted to leave without Cillian, and the officer helping them board had not been interested in allowing Cillian to board.

  “Cillian,” she breathed silkily, her voice husky. Cillian pulled back in shock, his eyes wide.

  “Claire! What the hell do you thi
nk you’re doing, then? Why the hell aren’t you in the lifeboat?”

  “I forgot Ma’s hat,” Claire replied, looping her arm around Cillian’s once more. This time, he did not pull away, though Claire could feel his fury at her, coursing through his veins. “I need to go back for it. I can’t leave the ship without it. Ma made me vow before God himself that I would not let anything happen to it.”

  “It’s a hat, Claire,” Cillian snapped. “You’re so stupid, you know that? It’s a hat. You must know your mother would not wish you to keep your vow if it meant your life. You’re her last child, Claire. She didn’t make you take that vow on pain of death. It’s just a hat.”

  “No, it isn’t Cillian. It’s Ma’s hat, the one she was married in. It’s not like there’s any real trouble, there are still plenty of lifeboats left, and I remember the route the steward took. Besides, you’ve taken it thrice, so you’ll know it better than I. Plus, I do not know if I wish to leave the ship without you. You promised,” she said, and she could feel him softening. “While waiting for Adene, you promised you’d come with me. You didn’t even try and get in. There were plenty of men in the lifeboat, Cillian. You didn’t keep your promise.”

  “Claire … I’ll help you down, and I’ll get you to find your Ma’s hat. I swear it. But then, you must enter a lifeboat. You promise me?”

  “Only if you’re beside me.”

  “I won’t take a woman’s seat, Claire,” Cillian replied. “I’m no coward. If there’s a seat for me, I’ll be right beside you, but I won’t take a seat that isn’t mine.”

  “I didn’t say you were,” Claire said, wanting to swat him. Men could be so daft. She didn’t understand why they had to be so theatrical at times, as if they had to prove they were better than other men somehow. She hated that men accused women of hysterics, yet, women on the Boat Deck appeared calmer than their male counterparts. They were stoically refusing to board without their husbands, resulting in, at times, being forced into a lifeboat by an officer, while the men had begun to turn into scrambling rats, desperate to flee. “I asked you to board with me. You promised.” Claire looked away, so he would not see the tears welling in her eyes.

  Cillian hesitated. “If they’re needing a man, then yes,” he answered. He stopped walking, pulling Claire in front of him. She noticed a sign saying that second-class passengers weren’t allowed to access the rest of the deck, though that rule long seemed not to matter, and she watched as more than one man threw deck chairs into the ocean. She tried not to think of what the action might mean; perhaps the men had just lost their minds. It was clear that some had. “I love you, Claire. I’ve loved you for so many winters past, Claire Bear. I’ve wished that I had a portrait of you that I could have kept with me, after your Ma and Da banished me. Every night we spent apart, I spent my nights before sleep trying to recall each feature of your handsome face. In prayers, I begged that God would reunite us, and He found it fit to do so. In dreams, you were always singin’ that song I like, The Last Rose of Summer. Even when we’ve been separated, you’ve never not been with me. Whether or not I get in a lifeboat with you, you will always be the only woman I’ve ever loved. I swear that if a seat be offered, and no woman or child is present, I shall take it. But I will not take it from a woman. There’s no honour in that, Claire, and you cannot expect me to live without honour.”

  “That’s a good enough vow,” Claire replied. Men were so dramatic. What did Cillian honestly think would happen to such a great ship? Claire believed him when he’d told her he’d woken to a wet berth floor, but she did not believe a ship so large – and so easy to be lost within – would sink so quickly. They would likely have breakfast before all the passengers were safely ferried off. Claire didn’t mind that idea; while her stomach was not yet used to the rich and abundant foods, she was not ready to forfeit such delightful meals. Having breakfast before getting into a lifeboat would be preferable, she could not help but think. Still, men fared better when placated, and Claire did not wish to push the issue. “I will keep you to it.”

  Cillian sighed, opening the door to the second-class aft entrance. “We’d better be quick, Claire Bear. I don’t want you down below any longer than you need to be.” Claire rolled her eyes, but Cillian must have caught her as he snapped, “And if you don’t keep your damn promise, I’ll throw you into a lifeboat meself.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Monday, April 15th, 1912

  Eliana

  Albert had insisted the family remain outside, much to Eliana’s dismay. It was freezing out on the open Boat Deck, and though she had dressed warmly in preparation, yet she could still feel the sheer brittle cold through her layers, and her face felt as if it had turned to ice. Despite her initial annoyance, Eliana felt sympathy for Georgiana as she watched her sister shiver, hugging her arms around herself. Normally Eliana would wish to gloat, parading around the fact that Georgiana was suffering because she had not taken the time to dress herself appropriately, but despite the light mood around her – people were chattering, some nervously so – and the band was playing Three Dances of Henry VIII, a beautiful song, but still, there was something else lingering in the air. Something she could hear in everyone’s voices, the thing no one was saying.

  The ship’s list was more significant now. The first boat had left with only twenty-eight passengers; not too many were keen to leave the ship’s side. However, a tight knot grew within Eliana’s stomach as she wondered whether staying on the Titanic was the right thing to do. She no longer felt the certainty she had earlier, and she could feel despair swirl inside her.

  Part of Eliana did not wish to leave the warmth of the ship – especially when they could not be in much danger, with another boat nearby; Eliana had seen their lights – but part of her felt the steepening tilt in the ship. She felt the slant, as if someone had pressed a giant finger on the bow, though the boat slanted a little port. George seemed unreasonably irritated, as if he knew a great secret the others didn’t, and was beginning to behave as if finding a seat on the lifeboat was a matter of life or death.

  Eliana found herself wanting to snap at him, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She was glad that there were swarms of people around her, keeping her on her best behaviour. The last thing she needed to do was chastise her husband when she already needed to beg his forgiveness.

  And, in her own weird way, she was determined to get onto a lifeboat, which scarcely made her different from George. She did not know why – it was a silly fear to have, moving from the ship to a life raft – but if things worsened, the more unruly passengers might become violent, and they’d already had one surge of steerage passengers making their way above. Eliana had two young ones with her, as well as the babe in her womb. Eliana could not afford to be selfish; she had to think of her little ones. Their well-being depended on her. The ship wouldn’t sink, but Italians became rowdy, especially if they’d taken to drink. They were “passionate”, or so they declared, which meant they’d likely behave ungentlemanly, scrambling for life rafts. More than one officer had fired his weapon throughout the night, including the handsome young officer who had already boarded a life vessel. Eliana thought it was a shame that the Italians couldn’t behave more like gentlemen. The handsome young officer had threatened to shoot some steerage Italians, and while that had been alarming, she had admired the man’s courage. It was a shame he’d already left, because she’d found the officer oddly calming; he seemed quite adept at his job, secure in his knowledge. Handsome, as well, which always helped when a man donned a uniform.

  If they let the steerage up here, it might be worse, she reminded herself. Eliana certainly did not wish to board with anyone of such lowly status, likely riddled with disease and lice (and Italian), especially if she had to share a boat with them. She shivered, imagining the diseases she and her children could catch. The Captain really hasn’t thought this through, she thought. I think I’ll file a complaint with the White Star Line if this nonsens
e escalates. It really was absurd.

  She turned to her mother and said, as forcefully as possible to hide her quaking fear, “Mama, I think we should board a lifeboat now.”

  Albert nodded; he looked whiter than he had previously, perhaps a little grim. “I think that would be wise. I fear we’ve waited long enough already, in the hopes dear Celia would turn up.”

  “Why?” Eleonora asked, looking shocked. “And you can’t mean that. I’m not leaving without Celia. I won’t; the very notion is absolutely ridiculous. You can’t be serious, Albert. We’re not leaving the ship.”

  “Surely there isn’t reason yet, is there?” Georgiana asked, bewildered, gripping at William’s shirt. “The ship is perfectly safe; and there’s that other one, there, in the distance. See? The Captain’s already called for help; he keeps using that dreadfully loudspeaker to remind us. If there was anything to worry about, Captain Smith would tell us. He would be out here, seeing to the order of things. Mr Ismay’s here and so is Mr Andrew, but I’ve barely seen the Captain. If the ship were in true danger of foundering, he’d be here, alongside Ismay and Andrews. That must mean all is well, right, Papa?” Eliana wondered if Georgiana heard the desperation in her voice.

  Albert opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, but it was Mr Ismay, who was lurking nearby that interrupted them, who began answering Georgiana’s questions. He had been helping other passengers – mostly women and children – board the nearby lifeboat, marked with a fifteen on it, next to the White Star Line’s insignia. It held a great many number of steerage passengers, having been brought from below above by some steward.