He just smiled and kissed her.
~~~
The small details recorded about Titanic continued to happen exactly as if changes had never been made to the timeline. Sam dutifully recorded them in his journal, and fretted. Was anything they were doing going to make a difference? He would be happy even if something of no consequence happened in a different way. He would have thought that anything he or Casey did would cause a change, since neither of them had been born when Titanic sailed in the original timeline. But even Casey unwittingly contributed to one of legends on an innocent shopping trip in March.
Sam was setting up an experiment in his lab, bent over his wires, so he didn’t look up when the door opened. A smothered giggle and “hush!” made him smile, as he wrote a figure in his notebook before turning to greet his visitors. Flushed with the March wind, Casey and Penny stood in the doorway, Jamie anxiously jumping up and down to see what his surrogate grandfather was doing.
“This is a surprise.” He grinned down at Jamie. “Come to see what your future job will be, kiddo?”
“We brought you lunch!” Jamie informed him, rushing to clamber onto a stool so he could see better. “But I want to see! I won’t touch,” he added before any of the adults gave him the tiresome instruction.
“We were at the market and brought you some meat pies,” Casey offered, handing him a bag. “Feel free to share them out if you’ve made other plans.”
“No, this is great. Thanks! Have time to join me?”
They did, and everyone wandered into Sam’s office. Casey picked up Terry, leaving the pram in the hallway. Co-workers came by and admired the children, nearly all of them adding a comment or question about the upcoming Titanic departure. Casey answered in as few words as possible, trying to be polite. She cheered up when she remembered an encounter at the market and told Sam about it.
“I ran into Charles Joughin while we were shopping. He’s the chief baker on Titanic. He mentioned how much he enjoys sailing with Tom. He said he wanted to do something special for him, so he asked me what Tom’s favorite bread is. I gave him the recipe for the cornbread Tom loves so much, and he promised to fix it for him on the ship! It’s a surprise, so don’t mention it to him.”
Everyone promised to keep the secret and Casey seemed especially pleased. Sam was glad she found some enjoyment in the chance encounter, so he never told her that the surprise loaf of bread was one of the many anecdotes about Tom that was told to school children in Belfast, when they learned about the ship.
But how did it happen before, when Casey was not part of Tom’s life in the original timeline?
~~~
The wind woke Tom about four o’clock. First of April, 1912. Swallowing against the fear in the pit of his stomach, he turned and put his arms around Casey. She was awake already, listening to the wind they had known would be blowing. Her heart was racing. Tom kissed her head, massaging her shoulder and neck. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing him thoroughly. Her hands made passages along his back, providing urging he didn’t need. He took his time, memorizing anew each inch of her. If he could, he would spend the next twenty-four hours making love to her.
He couldn’t, of course. Even with the extra day, there was enough work still to do, that he could work for the next twenty-four hours. He also had to show up as if he thought they’d be leaving today. He dressed, then with Casey by his side, he stopped by the nursery to kiss his children. Just in case.
~~~
Lord Pirrie was out recovering from surgery, so Tom and the directors met on the bridge with Captain Smith and the pilot. The wind tore through the channel, and even in the dock, the ship was in constant motion. With the narrowness of the channel, they didn’t dare try and take her out. Their decision was unanimous. The sea trials and subsequent departure would be put off until tomorrow. Tom gave up trying to shake the strangeness of it all. The next fifteen days of his life had been documented almost in detail in Sam and Casey’s time stream. Déjà vu was going to be his constant companion for a while, and he needed to get used to it. He felt like they were all following a script.
Joe Bell, who was chief engineer, had reported a coal fire in boiler room five. Sam had warned Tom about it, and he had tried to keep it from starting. But this was another thing that they weren’t able to change. The fire continued to smolder at the bottom of a pile of coal. It was not a problem at this point. The coal had to be removed, which they were doing, but any real progress would have to wait until Southampton and a full crew. Until then, it would have to smolder. Joe thought the bulkhead would be okay and it wouldn’t be necessary to report the fire to the Board of Trade inspectors. And it probably would be okay, under normal conditions. Tom had no doubt that in the other timeline, the weakened bulkhead had given out when flooded, and contributed to the ship’s rapid sinking.
Before heading for home, Tom made one more round of the boat deck, reveling in the number of lifeboats. Enough for everyone. Almost no room to walk though, and there had been a few complaints from first class passengers about the crowding on the Olympic, but Tom had managed to prevail. Ismay was unhappy, but by putting the extra boats on Olympic, they had placed the Board of Trade in an awkward position. People were beginning to ask why the rules were so out of date.
~~~
Despite the work, he went home a bit early. The children were napping and Tom coaxed Casey out of the garden and into the bedroom. He really did intend to make love to her as many times as possible before morning.
Afterwards, she held his hand and kissed each finger, then his palm. She started to speak, but hesitated. He lifted her head to look in her eyes. “It will be all right, Casey.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “You don’t know that, Tom. It’s your own choices that I’m afraid of.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sam and I have talked a lot about what happens on the ship that night. But no one knows... Sam says there’s always been speculation about why you didn’t get in a boat or at least, wear your life belt. Some people said it was because you loved the ship. You felt like the ship was your child, and I know you feel like that about them.” Her whisper was agonized. “But I need to know that you’ll really try to live this time.”
Anger surprised him. He sat up, face burning. “That’s bunk, Casey,” he said. “It’s bunk, do you understand? I’ve talked to Sam, too. I know that I had a family in that other time. Do you think for one minute, that one of my ships is more important to me than my children? Than my wife?” His voice shook and he reached for her shoulders, pulling her to sit beside him. “I can tell you why I didn’t get in a boat, because I would do the same thing now, if the situation were the same. All those women and children who did not have a seat, Casey. All those men… how many men put their wives and children in boats and stepped back to die, or stayed to die when they had families at home, waiting for them? What right, how could I, of all those people, have possibly taken a seat on a boat?” He buried his hands in her hair, holding her head tenderly, feeling the preciousness of her. “If there were not enough boats, now, I could not make myself get into one, Casey. You have to know that. But there are enough boats. And I swear to you, Casey, I will be in one if there is any way possible. I swear I will have on a belt. I will do everything in my power to live, Sweetheart. I promise you that with all my heart.”
~~~
They gave Penny the night off and spent the evening with their children, eating with them and playing games, reading to them. Tom called his parents and had each child talk to them, especially their Granda, who was not feeling well. Sam hung around for a while, playing three-way catch with Tom and Jamie. After a while though, he pulled Tom aside to say good-bye.
“I wish I had some pearls of wisdom for you, lad,” he said, before heading upstairs. “But I guess I’ve told you everything I know, along with a hell of a lot of conjecture.” They both laughed a little, then Sam shook Tom’s hand and ended it with a hug. “We’ll see you in a cou
ple of months, Tom.” Sam shook his head helplessly. “Good luck, son.”
Tucking the children into bed was one of his favorite tasks, and Tom tried to memorize each moment as he and Casey dressed them in nightclothes. He sat on Jamie’s bed, holding his son in his lap as he read a story, and Casey nursed Terry. He noticed how Terry played with a bit of her mother’s hair while she nursed, and how she fell asleep holding the strand in her little grip. He read the entire story, even though Jamie was sound asleep before he was done. It was almost as if he was looking at the scene from outside his body: the nursery seemed encompassed in a glow, like an out-of-focus picture. In his mind, he took the picture, then tucked it into a figurative pocket, to keep with him while he was gone.
He made love to Casey again, even though she wept the entire time, holding on to him desperately. How could he leave her? Was he a fool to walk away from this and force her to face his death?
~~~
In the end, leaving came down to putting one step in front of the other, no matter how difficult or heavy the step seemed. Staying behind came down to the same thing. Casey wandered through the day, as if she had lost something, but wasn't sure what it was, or where she should look for it. Sam watched her with mounting concern, staying nearby rather than going to work. He felt guilty about not being on the ship with Tom, but Tom's word had been final. Whether or not he had an answer for each of Sam's objections, he flatly refused to allow Sam to come. So Sam stayed and did what Tom asked him to do: be there for Casey.
Toward evening, Casey seemed to waken and Sam heard her unspoken communication. Leaving Terry with Penny, they took Jamie, and climbed the hill behind the house, watching as Titanic came back down the Lagan after her trials. There would be a transfer of mail and workers, and the ship would leave straightaway for Southampton. Casey explained to Jamie that his Da did not have time to get off the ship at all; that was why he had woken Jamie early this morning to say good-bye. But they could watch the ship for a while and send him their love by waving as hard as they could. Jaime added a few shouts of "Bye Da! I love you!" just in case, he said, "the wind carried the sound, too."
Chapter 40
14 April 1912
Titanic–North Atlantic
At 9:30 p.m., Tom made his way to the wireless room. As Casey and Sam had described, Jack Phillips and his assistant, Harold Bride, were swamped with messages to transmit. Phillips was polite, but short. The wireless had been broken, he'd just gotten it repaired, and he had a hundred messages to send out. If Mr. Andrews had a message to send, it would not be going out until morning. Tom assured him that he was only checking on things. On his way out he paused next to the box marked "Bridge." There were several slips of paper in there, and he felt a chill that went through his entire body as Casey's voice echoed in his head.
"The wireless operators had several ice warnings that they just never turned over to the captain. They were too busy…"
He turned to Harold Bride, his hand hovering over the box. "I'm on my way to the bridge. How 'bout I take these for you?"
Harold's eyes flicked briefly over and he shrugged. "Sure, that'd be great. Just ice warnings. Nothing the Cap'n doesn't know."
Tom was gone in an instant, notes in hand, quickly flipping through them. Only four were about ice, with latitude and longitude given for berg sightings, including descriptions of a large ice field.
He put these together with the three warnings Captain Smith had received earlier, struggling with the idea of approaching the captain. He was enough of a seaman to understand the inviolability of the captain's position. I'm not even a member of the crew. I have no right to offer unsolicited advice.
But with seven warnings, just today, and several others since Friday, could he suggest that the Captain at least slow down? Could he convince him to change course further south?
He had to do something. He was at the bridge, the captain and officers working efficiently inside. Tom shivered. Lord, it was cold, tonight! No wonder, as Casey had said, the passengers had not wanted to wait on deck or get into lifeboats. He entered the bridge, returning a nod from Second Officer Lightoller, and waited for the captain to finish his log entry before approaching him.
Captain Smith was happy to see him. "Tommy, my lad! Wonderful bread the baker prepared for you, tonight. Thank you for sharing."
"Oh my pleasure, Captain. Wouldn't do to eat it all myself, you know." They both laughed. "I still have work to do tonight and I'm hoping to get a letter finished to my parents. You know my father is poorly, these days. I'm anxious to get to New York and hear some news." He held out the wireless slips. "I was just in the wireless room. Poor lads are earning their keep tonight. I told them I'd bring these along with me to the bridge."
He held his breath as Captain Smith looked through the notes. The captain shook his head, lips pursed, as he turned to beckon Lightoller to join them. "More ice warnings. Have Mr. Murdoch calculate our position relative to these sightings. Maintain course and speed, but keep a sharp watch; sounds likes there's a large ice field ahead. I'll be off duty. If it becomes at all doubtful, let me know at once."
He turned to Tom. "Thank you for bringing these by, Tom. We don't want to take too many chances, do we? These warnings almost never pan out, of course, but we'll keep an eye out. We've changed course a bit farther south to avoid most of the ice, but we want to keep to our schedule, if possible."
That's what you did before! Tom tightened his lips against the outburst. "The ice is further south than I've ever seen it, this early in the year," he said. "It won't be such a bad thing if we have to change course further."
Smith nodded. "We'll see what Murdoch says when he's checked our position. 'Night, Tom. 'Night, all." He left the bridge, leaving Lightoller to follow the last set of orders.
Frustrated, Tom left as well, glancing at his watch. 9:50 p.m. Nothing new had been done, even with personally handing Smith the warnings. Sam had already told him about the course change. They needed to go further south, or better yet, stop for the night. He faltered for a moment before the enclosed promenade, looking hard at the ocean. Where was that berg? What about others? Sam had said there were several out there. He moved forward to the crow’s nest and called a greeting.
“Ho, there! All clear, then?”
The lookout responded laconically. “All clear, Mr. Andrews! Cold night, eh?”
“Bracing’s, what I’d call it!” At their laughter, Tom reached into his pocket. “You lads have your binoculars?” he asked. “I have an extra pair here, if you need ‘em.”
They conferred, then answered, “Why, that’d be great, Mr. Andrews. We seem to ‘ave misplaced ours.”
Tom made his way up the ladder and handed over the pair. “You know about the ice warnings the captain’s received. Seems we’re approaching an ice field and he’d like to avoid it. Keep sharp, lads!”
“Aye,” they answered. “Thanks for the touch-up, sir.”
He left the nest and paused once more on the deck. The chill in his bones had nothing to do with the temperature. What else could he do? His half-baked idea to sabotage the engines came back to him, but he had to keep in mind Sam’s doubts about that. They needed to be able to maneuver the ship.
He could wait a while before deciding. Best wait and see what happened once Murdoch had figured their position and, hopefully, noticed they were surrounded by ice. He’d wander back up to the bridge about 10:30 p.m. and see what was up.
~~~
Dunallon–2:00 a.m.
Casey sat in bed, fully dressed, and stared at the clock. With the four-hour time difference, it was ten p.m. on the Titanic. Every bit of her soul longed for a telegram from Tom, or better yet, a phone call. If she could hear his voice again…
Neither of those would happen, of course. Even if Tom sent a telegram, it would not be delivered until morning, and phone calls were impossible. If she wished hard enough, could she put herself on Titanic and see what he saw? Could she be there to help?
She
slowly rocked herself, back and forth, face resting on her bent knees. His name filled her mind, her body tense with the desire to have him safe. The minutes ticked by.
Titanic—10:30 p.m.
Wrapped up tight against the cold, Tom moved out to the Boat Deck and over to port. The night was still pitch black, the sea still calm. The only breeze came from the movement of the ship as she raced through the water, her engines thrumming evenly. Looking over the rail, he could hardly hear the water splashing against the hull, far below.
He hailed the lookouts. One waved, the other was looking through the ‘nocs as the ship moved ahead. He turned to stare at the lifeboats, his mind rehearsing the steps to follow to most efficiently release them.
He realized what he was doing and closed his eyes. Dear Lord, I’m acting as if it’s actually going to happen. I’ve got to stop it from happening, not just give up!
After a minute, he walked to the bridge.
First Officer Murdoch and Sixth Officer Moody were discussing their position when Tom entered. Both were surprised to see him, but greeted him cordially enough. “You’re wandering around late, sir,” was Murdoch’s casual inquiry.
“Aye,” Tom said, “just checking on a few things.” He looked curiously at the map. “Looks like you’ve found some ice?” he asked them, noting himself that the pin marking the ship was indeed surrounded by areas marked as icebergs.
They nodded and Murdoch answered. “At least according to the messages. Some of those are a couple of days old, of course. We’ve no accurate measurements.”
Tom shook his head in dismay, but tried to keep his voice light and easy. “You know, I’ve built you a good ship, gentlemen. But she will no’ appreciate a rubbing from a berg.”
They agreed, laughing a little. Then, as Tom continued to stare at them, Murdoch cleared his throat. “Cap’n said to let him know if we had any doubts. Hate to wake him, but he’ll be interested in our position.”
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