by Diane Moody
“I’m so glad we weren’t on the Argentina,” Agatha said. “I heard the seas were so rough, a baby was knocked out of its hammock. Rolled across the floor and back again before his mum could get to him.”
“How awful,” Kate said, glancing down at Joss in the pram. “That must have been ever so frightening. Did the child recover?”
“Just a bad bruise on his head, last I heard.” Agatha arched her brows. “Want to know what else I heard?”
Gigi took the bait. “Do tell. What have you heard?”
“Well, rumor has it the girls on that ship have had to fight off the crew from unwanted attention, if you catch my drift. Apparently those guys have been at sea too long and were starved for female interaction, so to speak.”
“Sounds like my kind of ship,” Gigi teased.
Agatha’s eyes widened. “No, not that kind of attention—against your will? Lots of assaults, from what I heard. Some happened right in broad daylight! They have so many crewmen locked up in the ship’s brig now, there’s hardly anyone left to help the girls disembark once they reach New York.”
Anya stopped in her tracks. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard since we boarded this ship. Who told you such rubbish?”
Agatha stiffened, picking up her pace as she passed Anya. “I have my sources. And every word of it is true. You’ll see. There are scads of news reporters on board with them. They’ll spill the beans. Just you wait and see.”
Anya slowly caught up with the others. “I doubt that seriously. The Army Transport would never put up with behavior like that. You shouldn’t spread such rumors.”
“Anya’s right,” Helen added. “You read the ship’s paper this morning, Agatha. The Argentina is the first war bride ship to sail, which means they’re in a publicity spotlight. My guess is the captain would nip that kind of behavior in the bud before it ever got out of hand.”
Agatha’s ample backside and short strides reminded Anya of a fairy godmother character in one of her favorite childhood books. A little busybody, bustling along, trying to keep up.
“I’m only telling you what I heard.”
“Oh, don’t be getting your knickers in a twist,” Gigi teased. “Probably just some harmless flirting.”
“Look there.” Kate shadowed her eyes and pointed across the starboard bow. “Are those icebergs?”
The rest of them turned to look. “I’ve never seen one before, but what else could it be?” Anya said. “Smaller than I imagined.”
“That’s because all you’re seeing is the top of them,” Helen said. “What lies beneath the water’s surface is massive compared to what you see there.”
“Maybe, but don’t say the name of that other ship again,” Kate cautioned. “No need to court a demise such as theirs.”
“What ship?” Agatha asked. “You mean the Titanic?”
“Shush!” Gigi elbowed the girl’s ribs. “Kate’s right. Even uttering the ship’s name could reap all sorts of peril and despair on us. I’ll kindly thank the rest of you to guard against such thoughtless chatter.”
Agatha snapped a salute. “Whatever you say, Captain Gigi.”
They walked two full rounds of the deck before heading back inside for classes. Kate and Joss joined Helen for the “Raising Children in America” class. Gigi and another girl from their cabin chose the class about American fashion, while Agatha attended the study on British versus American colloquialisms. Anya decided a course on the layout of the American states might be helpful, hoping she might learn more about Chicago. The Red Cross workers made the classes fun and answered as many questions as the brides might ask.
The girls regrouped for the midday meal, dining over a choice of broiled salmon served with a lemon butter sauce or sugar-roasted ham with all the trimmings.
“Mmmm … I’m beginning to think I never truly tasted food until now,” Gigi said. “It’s like my taste buds are only now coming to life.”
“We just forgot. That’s all,” Kate said.
As they ate, they discussed what they learned in their classes. Agatha had them in stitches sharing some of the differences between American English and their own British version.
“Like the expression bugger off. When we say bugger off, it’s like saying leave me alone or stop bothering me! But in America, the word ‘bugger’ is what you find when you dig around inside your nose.”
Gigi spewed the water she’d just sipped, making them all laugh even louder.
“If you’re putting luggage into the back of an automobile, we say you stash it in the boot. Americans call it a trunk. And to them, a boot is a shoe similar to our galoshes. ”
More laughter seemed to egg her on. “Oh, but this was my favorite. What do you say when you want someone to wake you in the morning?”
“That’s easy,” Kate said. “You ask them to knock you up.”
“Yes, but in America if some fellow knocks you up, it means he got you pregnant!”
This time, their boisterous laughter drew stares from other nearby tables.
“Seriously?” Kate asked, still chuckling. “You didn’t make that up, did you?”
“No, it’s true! So be careful who you ask to knock you up, ladies.”
After several more examples, Gigi finally stopped her. “Agatha, no more! We’re doomed. We’ll all sound like a bunch of fools every time we open our mouths.”
“Oh, our Yanks will still love us,” Helen added. “Don’t you worry.”
Later, several of the girls attended more classes while others visited the canteen, wrote letters, or roamed the ship to pass the time. Anya decided to skip the afternoon sessions and offered to take Joss for a while so Kate could have a break.
“Oh Anya, that would be wonderful,” Kate said as they entered their stateroom. “I think I’ll miss classes too and just rest here. I’m actually feeling a bit grotty after eating.”
Anya reached for Joss. “Are you all right? Is there anything I can get for you?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Taking Joss for a little while is more than enough.” She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek. “If you think you might take another stroll on the deck, be sure to take her coat and knitted bonnet. And here’s her blanket to wrap around her.”
“I think we might like another walk up on the deck, don’t you, Joss?”
Kate helped Anya put the wool coat on the baby, then pulled the bonnet down over her ears. “There you are, sweetheart. You have fun with Auntie Anya while Mummy takes a lie-down.”
Kate wasn’t the only one needing a break. Anya had never been the sort to need constant companionship, and she ached for some time alone. She wondered if something might be wrong with her, this penchant preference for solitary over social. Not a loner, but surely more comfortable in less cramped and crowded surroundings. As she opened the heavy door and stepped out on the deck, a blast of cold air raced through her lungs again. She struggled to move Joss’s pram through the door, then stooped to make sure the little one was wrapped snugly in her blanket. With her bonnet pulled low, all Anya could see were her sweet, smiling eyes filled with wonder and curiosity.
“Looks like it’s just you and me out here, Joss. Seems we’re the only ones brave enough to chance a walk. Feels good, though, don’t you think?”
Jocelyn wiggled with pleasure, blinking as the cold air watered her eyes.
“We won’t stay long. Maybe just one quick walk around. I wouldn’t want to take you back to Mum all chilled to the bone.”
Anya gazed up at the sky, disappointed to find a palette in shades of gray as far as she could see. Far off the starboard bow a spidery vein of lightning wobbled beneath dark clouds, followed moments later by a deep rumble of thunder. Yes, they could still make one trip around deck before the distant storm blew their way.
A distant storm. She recalled the note in Wisteria’s newspaper about the gale storm that roughed up the seas and delayed the arrival of the Argentina. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case for the Wist
eria.
Undisturbed, Joss babbled happily in the breeze uttering a steady stream of nonsense sung in different pitches.
“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba … baaaaa.”
“You’re a funny one, little Joss.”
“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba … baaaaa.”
“Exactly. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
As they rounded the stern, Anya noticed the bright red, white, and blue of the American flag flapping in the wind and changed her mind, deciding they should probably go back inside. But just as she picked up her pace to push Joss along, something caught her eye. A swath of fabric on the top rail in the far corner, fluttering in the stiff wind. Not flimsy like a flag. Something heavier. Something darker. A dark shade of navy blue or green—
Oh no… oh please no.
A stab of adrenaline shot through her, taking her breath. She turned to rush in that direction then stopped cold. She mustn’t take Joss any closer to the rail. Not now with the wind blowing so hard.
With fresh tears stinging her eyes, she realized it was too late anyway.
40
“I can’t believe it.” Anya heard the quiver in her own voice. “I know in my mind it must have happened, but I just can’t believe she jumped. Why now?”
Kate took a seat beside her on the lower bunk and took hold of Anya’s hands. “I suppose none of us ever truly know what might be going on in someone else’s head, Anya. Ruth was such a quiet girl. We can’t begin to know what led her to think it was the only way out.”
“You have to admit she was an odd duck,” Agatha said climbing down from her bunk. “She said she was sixteen, but she looked more like a child if you ask me. And so quiet. Like a church mouse, she was. All pale and sickly.”
“That’s not helping, Agatha,” Helen said. “Have a heart, will you?”
Agatha flipped a wrist. “I have a heart, thank you very much. I’m just saying what all the rest of you are thinking. She was just a child and never should have made the trip. Better off home with Mummy and Daddy.”
Gigi pulled a cigarette from her silver case. “Enough, Agatha. She’s dead. Have some respect.” She stopped to give Anya a hug. “I’m going to the lounge to have a smoke. Be back in a jiffy.”
Agatha smirked. “Fine. If you all want to sit around and mourn someone you hardly knew, then fine. I’m going to the canteen for some chocolate.”
“It’s so terribly sad,” Helen said. “Imagine surviving the war and finding the man of your dreams, then throwing it all away halfway across the Atlantic.”
“All this time, we assumed she was just seasick,” Anya said. “We should have helped her. That first day when we left Southampton, I found her weeping so hard up on deck. She said she’d made a mistake and shouldn’t have come. I feel awful. I should have watched out for her. Paid more attention to her when she got sick and—”
“Stop, Anya,” Kate said. “Just stop. As callous as it may sound, you weren’t responsible for her. You barely had a conversation with her. You couldn’t possibly have known she might do something like this.”
“I know, but to think she felt so utterly alone and hopeless as to jump—”
Kate squeezed her hand. “Second-guessing your actions won’t bring her back. She must have had deeper needs than any of us could have known.” She wrapped her arm around Anya’s shoulder and leaned her head against hers. “It’s horribly sad and so heartbreaking. But it wasn’t your fault.”
She knew Kate was right. Anya barely knew the girl. She glanced over at Ruth’s empty bunk, at the wrapped pastry and orange exactly where she’d left them on her pillow. Anya remembered times when she too felt completely alone and hopeless. She’d been there too, not so long ago.
Later, a team of three Red Cross representatives came to collect Ruth’s belongings. She was touched to see the compassion in their eyes and the respectful way they handled Ruth’s things.
“Might someone notify her husband?” Kate asked as she lifted Joss out of her hammock.
“Yes, the captain wired the Red Cross in Ames, Iowa where her husband lives,” the young man stated. “They’ll send someone to the home to tell them.”
“His name is Eddie,” Anya said barely over a whisper.
“Yes, that’s right. We’re also sending some of our people to visit her parents back in Thorpe Abbotts. It’s a heartbreaking day for all of them.”
Anya could only nod. What if Eddie had already left for New York? The image of a young soldier waiting at the docks for his young bride clouded her mind.
“Thank you for attending to them,” Kate said quietly.
The pretty redhead approached them. “Is there anything we can do for you? I’m sure this is so hard, being cabinmates and all. Especially when it should be such an exciting time in your lives.”
They looked back and forth at each other. Then Helen asked, “Has this happened before?”
“You mean here? On the Wisteria?”
“Yes. Have there been others since we left Southampton?”
“Not that I know of. I certainly hope not.” She paused, glancing at Anya. “But obviously it’s a large vessel. To be honest, if you hadn’t seen the remnant of Ruth’s coat on the rail, or hadn’t recognized it as belonging to her, we might not have known she was missing at this point.”
“So in other words, there could be others no one has noticed yet to be missing?” Anya asked.
“Yes, I suppose, but we shall hope and pray that’s not the case.”
“What about the Argentina?” Helen asked. “Do you know if they lost anyone?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the other two, then lowered her voice. “No, but we were told someone tried to jump during that horrid storm they encountered. Thankfully, her friends pulled her back to safety in the nick of time.”
“Well, that seems to be all for now,” the older gentleman said. “Our deepest condolences for the loss of your friend. Please let us know if there’s anything we might be able to do for you.”
The redhead offered a sympathetic smile then followed the men out the door.
That evening, Anya picked at her food and noticed Kate doing the same.
“Are you feeling all right, Kate?”
She pushed her plate aside. “No, not really.”
“Still nauseated?”
Kate rested her head atop Joss’s who was sitting on her lap. “Yes, I guess. Do you feel the boat rocking more?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want to mention it.”
Helen pushed back her chair and stood. “I’m feeling rather awful myself. I think I’ll go for a bit of a lie-down.”
“But wait—aren’t you all coming to the concert tonight?” Gigi twirled a lock of her hair. “You can’t all bail on me. I’m singing a solo with the chorus tonight. We’ve have a rehearsal in a few minutes.”
“You sing?” Agatha asked.
“Yes, I do. And tonight I’m singing a popular American song. Gregory asked if I’d give it a go.”
“Gregory?”
“The Red Cross chap who directs the chorus. Quite a musician, that one. And, I might add, easy on the eyes.”
Anya and Kate shared a look. “There she goes again,” Kate mused.
“Now, now,” Gigi chided playfully. “I’m behaving myself. Nothing wrong with some last-minute flirting before we dock, and I commence on the straight and narrow. Nothing more, girls.”
“Well, then,” Kate said. “And not a minute too soon.”
“So you’ll both come, won’t you? To the concert?”
They stood, shuffling trays to help Kate with hers. “We’ll be there. Something to put our minds on, don’t you think, Anya?”
“We’ll be there, Gigi.”
At first it felt strange, gathering for a concert so soon after such a sad day. A shudder passed over Anya as she dismissed the image of Ruth floating in the frigid waters. She glanced around at the bubbly crowd of women all smiling and enjoying themselves and wished she could summo
n that kind of carefree abandon.
“Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma.”
Joss’s murmurs snapped Anya out of her malaise.
“Did you hear that?” Kate cried, her eyes sparkling. “Did I imagine it or did Joss just say Mama?”
“Yes!” Helen said. “I heard it too!”
“Oh, please,” Agatha groaned. “She’s just babbling. Babies babble. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
“Whether she does or doesn’t, it’s a beautiful sound,” Anya said.
Kate beamed. “Yes, and either way, I shall choose to believe she’s cooing my name. So there.”
“Kate, might I hold her a while?”
“Of course you can, Helen.” She lifted the child into Helen’s arms. “Let’s hope her nappy stays dry.”
“Not a problem. Good practice for me.”
As the curtain opened, the all-girl orchestra played a jaunty tune, introduced by the handsome director as a tribute to the American flag. Behind the chorus, an enormous replica of the Stars and Stripes covered the back curtain.
You’re a grand old flag,
You’re a high-flying flag,
And forever in peace may you wave.
You’re the emblem of the land I love,
The home of the free and the brave.
Every heart beats true
‘Neath the red, white, and blue,
Where there’s never a boast or brag.
But should auld acquaintance be forgot,
Keep your eye on the grand old flag!
It was impossible not to feel the energy and excitement filling the ship’s theater as the snappy tune continued. Anya relaxed and smiled at the sight of the girls in the chorus, curious where they’d found so many red, white, and blue dresses. Gigi stood at the center of the front row, her blonde hair coiffed in a stylish victory roll like most of the other singers; her scarlet lipstick a perfect match to her form-fitting dress.
The concert continued with a string of unfamiliar American songs, each wooing their hearts for their new homeland. As the orchestra played the introduction for the evening’s final number, Gigi made her way to a standing microphone beside the director and began to sing. The program listed the song as “God Bless America,” a slow and impassioned prayer-like melody beseeching God’s blessings on their new country. At first, Anya thought it a strange choice of songs for Gigi who seemed better suited to something more upbeat. As beautiful as the melody was, it was the purity of Gigi’s voice that left Anya breathless.
