by Diane Hoh
“ ’Twasn’t her,” he muttered.
The noise from the general room directly below them was loud, and he hadn’t spoken very clearly. Katie leaned closer. “Pardon? What did you say?”
“I said it wasn’t her.”
“Then what was it?” But of course she knew now. Still, she wanted him to say it.
He was still muttering. “Bri. Him and that Swedish girl. Caught them kissin.’ ”
Katie heard that and laughed. “You caught them kissin’? You make it sound like a crime. ’Tisn’t a crime to kiss, Paddy.”
“’Tis if you’re supposed to be faithful to someone else.”
The sky above them was clear, the stars guttering like jewels. Though they were surrounded by an empty, endless darkness, here on the ship there was ample light. She found herself wishing their conversing were about something nicer, something sweeter. But first, she had to clear his mind of his foolish notions about her and Bri. “Your brother is my friend, Paddy. I couldn’ta come on this trip was it not for Brian.” She glanced sideways at Paddy, with a hint of a smile on her face. “Me da likes you, but I’m thinkin’ he wouldn’ta trusted me into your care like he did Bri’s. You have yourself a reputation in Ballyford, y’know.”
Paddy didn’t smile.
“We are no more than friends, Bri and me. Never have been. I don’t know why ’tis that you think otherwise, but you’d best stop fancifyin’ about that and be nice to Marta. You don’t want to be partin’ from your brother when we dock in New York with bad blood between you. You might not never see him again, and that’s the truth of it.”
“I’d expect nothin’ less from you,” he said then. He stood up, looking down at her. “’Tis like you to be brave, Katie. And if it’s important to your pride to pretend you’re not carin’ about his faithlessness, I’ll keep me mouth shut.”
He wasn’t listening. Dolt! Katie struggled to hold her temper in check. “I’m not pretending! Are you not hearin’ me? Open your ears. I love Brian like a brother, just as you do, and I’m thankful that he helped me get to New York, but that’s the limit of my feelin’ for him. I never had plans to go to Wisconsin, and I never had plans to marry up with your brother. That was all in your writer’s fanciful imagination.”
His expression, illuminated for her by the ship’s bright lights, was one of doubt. Then his face cleared. “I’m sayin’ no more about it. But my thinkin’ is, you’re protectin’ your wounded pride, that’s what you’re doin’.”
Katie jumped to her feet. “Well, even if that were true,” she said heatedly, “and it isn’t, ’twouldn’t be very gentlemanly of you to point that out for me, now, would it?” She wanted fiercely to add, “ ’Tisn’t Brian in my heart, ’tis you, fool that you are,” but then she remembered all those other young girls gathered around Paddy in the general room, and bit her tongue.
“Acourse,” he said, nodding, “you’re right. Wasn’t thinkin’, was I?” He sat back down. “It’s good that you’re not pinin’ for him. You wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction.” He sounded unconvinced.
“Anyways,” he went on doggedly, “I’d bet this is just one of those shipboard things. I’ve heard it happens. Soon as we’ve landed in New York, Bri will come to his senses. You’ll see.”
Katie gave up. He must have stuffed fat wads of cotton into his ears, for all that he heard what she was saying.
“If he don’t come to his senses,” he went on maddeningly, “you’re sure to meet someone better in a city as big as New York. Someone who’ll treat you fair.”
“That I am.” But she didn’t want someone from the city of New York. She wanted someone from Ballyford, Ireland, someone named Kelleher.
Elizabeth and Lily didn’t return to the restaurant. Instead, Max and Arthur joined them on deck. They strolled in the night air for an hour or so, along with many other couples enjoying the crisp, fresh air and star-studded night sky. It was close to eleven o’clock when Elizabeth stated regretfully that she needed to return to her cabin. She was hoping to see her parents before they called it a night. Time was passing quickly, and while the Titanic was making great progress, she was not.
Max knew why she was anxious to return to the stateroom, and wished her good luck at her door. “Staying calm might help,” he added matter-of-factly.
“If things get rough in there, just remember this, okay?” and he bent his head and kissed her, a long, slow kiss, warm and tender. She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, completely forgetting that her parents might come along at any moment. Even if she’d remembered, being that close to Max made her feel she could handle anything.
As the kiss ended and they eased apart, he smiled at her and said, “Remember, count to ten.”
“I’ll try.” She watched as he turned and went away down the corridor, a tall, rangy figure so important to her, it was impossible to believe she hadn’t even known him when she boarded the Titanic on Wednesday.
Chapter 17
Sunday, April 14, 1912
Elizabeth fell asleep Saturday night waiting for her parents to return to their stateroom. She was terribly disappointed when she awoke sometime during the night to find herself lying on her bed fully clothed, icy air streaming in through her open porthole, and realized that she had never talked to her parents as she’d planned. The evening had accomplished nothing.
She buried her face in her hands, willing herself not to cry. Buoyed by Max’s loving kiss, she had been so prepared for the confrontation with her mother and father. But they were out when she entered their stateroom, and she’d tired of waiting on the chaise lounge. She’d gone into her room thinking only to change into a robe before returning to wait for them, for hours if necessary. But she had made the mistake of sitting down on her bed to slip her aching ankle out of its shoe. Fatigue had overtaken her and she’d sunk back into the comforting pillows, telling herself she would rest just for a few minutes.
And now it was the middle of the night. Her parents would be sound asleep by now.
When she awoke Sunday morning, the air entering through the porthole seemed much colder than on other mornings. Elizabeth remembered yesterday’s comments about icebergs in the area. Was it possible? It seemed cold enough. But Captain Smith was an experienced seaman. He would be an expert at steering around any large objects in the sea.
Closing the porthole, Elizabeth dressed hurriedly in a navy blue skirt and jacket, suitable for Sunday services. The service was held at ten-thirty in the first-class dining room. Elizabeth was surprised to see the red-haired girl from third-class there, the girl named Katie, along with a tall, blond girl. Both were gazing around in wide-eyed awe at the furnishings and decor in the salon.
Nola Farr said, “I suppose with Captain Smith conducting the service they felt it was only right to let third- and second-class passengers attend. Makes it rather crowded, doesn’t it?” Her tone of voice hinted that she found it more than just crowded, she found it distasteful.
Elizabeth glanced around for Max, found him standing off to her left. He smiled at her and waved, then faced front as the captain began to read from the shipping line’s company prayer book.
Her stomach felt queasy. She had no idea what she was going to say to her parents after breakfast. Perhaps they could compromise. She might be willing to endure the debut, if her mother would let her out of the marriage. That seemed fair. But then there was college, too. She wanted that as much as she wanted her engagement broken.
If only Max would face them with her. He could keep her calm, help her count to ten.
But this was her problem, not his. He had his own parents to deal with when he returned to New York. She would have to handle this one alone. And this time, they would have to listen.
If she could ever get her family together in one room to listen. Throughout the day, Elizabeth was repeatedly thwarted in her efforts to accomplish this.
Max found her in the writing room shortly before dinner. “Where have you been al
l day? I’ve been looking all over the ship for you. Lily said she hadn’t seen you. There’s ice about,” he said as he took a seat opposite her. “I was sending my grandmother a Marconigram and saw a few messages warning about ice fields ahead. That probably means icebergs, as well. One of the crewmen said bergs in this area are often as big as houses.”
“Big as houses? Who were the messages from?”
“From other ships in the area.” Max frowned. “Have you been out on deck? The temperature is diving considerably. So the idea of ice ahead makes a lot of sense.”
Elizabeth thought about that for a minute or two. If there really was ice ahead, wouldn’t the captain have to slow the ship? Perhaps even stop for a while until morning? It couldn’t be sensible to travel through ice at night, could it? If the Titanic stopped for the night, she would have more time.
“Have dinner with me,” he urged as they got up and prepared to leave the writing room.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I need to eat with my parents. I haven’t seen them alone at all. I’ve already made sure they have no dinner plans with other people. And I can spirit them straight back to the stateroom afterward. I won’t let them go into the lounge, and I won’t let them out of my sight.”
“So you’re going to kidnap your own parents?” Max was smiling. “I’d like to see that.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I have no choice.”
Dinner was a quiet, tense affair, and Elizabeth knew it was her fault. Her parents were both in good spirits, but she was so anxious about confronting them, she barely ate a morsel of food. Which her mother commented upon, which made Elizabeth even more tense. Count to ten, she kept repeating silently, count to ten. One…two…three…four…
Max was right. It did help.
She almost did have to kidnap her parents to get them back to the stateroom. On the way out of the dining salon, her mother stopped to chat briefly with Madeleine Astor, who was expecting a child, and then her father had to say hello to Mrs. Brown, who clapped him on the back and shouted an invitation to a card game. Elizabeth held her breath until he expressed his regrets and moved on. In the reception room, her parents stopped repeatedly to speak to friends. To Elizabeth, the trip from the table in the dining salon to their stateroom on C deck seemed to take hours.
When the door finally closed behind the three of them, she gave them just time enough to sit before announcing, “I would like to talk to both of you, please.”
Her father frowned, and her mother sighed, but they made no move to leave.
Elizabeth, still standing just inside the door because she was too anxious to sit, began talking. She had said all of these things before, but never so seriously. The time spent in the writing room had proved useful, as her thoughts were now so organized in her head she was able to present them calmly and logically. She explained that she did not wish to enter into a loveless marriage, and she did not love Alan Reed and never would. She added that she would be willing to go through the entire season of debut parties if her parents would at least consider sending her to college the following autumn. She kept her voice level and spoke quietly.
It seemed to work. Her parents listened without interruption, though her mother was tapping one foot impatiently against the wood trim on the chaise lounge. Neither got up and moved about, neither got up and left the room. Grateful for that much, she finished her carefully reasoned argument. And waited for their reaction.
Her mother’s came first, as she had known it would. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about marrying Alan,” she said, smoothing the folds of her pale yellow gown as she spoke. “You might have told us sooner.”
Elizabeth held her breath, feeling a kernel of hope spring alive within her. “I’m sorry. I thought I had. I realize it will be embarrassing for both of you when the engagement is canceled, but I’m sure Alan will understand.”
“Canceled?” Elizabeth’s mother looked up from her position on the chaise. “Oh, my dear, the engagement won’t be canceled.”
The kernel of hope died a swift but painful death. “But you said—”
“I merely said that you might have told us of your feelings sooner, so that we could have attended to them. We are not heartless, Elizabeth, though you apparently think otherwise. But we won’t be canceling anything. Not the engagement, not the debut season. This is why you have parents, darling, to lead you in the proper direction. To stop you from making foolish decisions. We love you very much, and we want the best for you. Seeing that you get it is our job.” Glancing at her husband, Nola Farr said, “Wouldn’t you say so, darling?”
Elizabeth had one last faint hope left. That her father might take her side, as he occasionally had in the past. If he did, the two of them might be able to sway her mother, just enough to at least cancel the engagement.
That hope lasted while her father seemed to ponder the question for a moment, but it, too, died as he nodded and answered, “Yes, I would say that is our job.” To Elizabeth, he said calmly, “Of course, we don’t expect you to understand that just now. Children never do. I myself didn’t when, at seventeen, I wanted to sign on a ship and travel the world. My father forbade it. I was angry, just as you are now. But he knew what he was doing, and I must say I’ve been grateful for some time now. My plan was ridiculously foolish. But I was too young to see that.”
Elizabeth tried to count. One…two… three…four…But it was too much. They were allied against her and together they made one formidable foe. “How do you know that?” she cried. “How do you know it would have been a foolish thing to do, if you didn’t do it? Maybe it would have been wonderful. Maybe you were just a coward!”
Elizabeth was sorry immediately. Her father flinched as if she had struck him, and her mother cried out, “Elizabeth, how could you!”
But wasn’t it true, just a little? He had wanted to go to sea, and he hadn’t gone.
She wasn’t going to follow his example. She wasn’t. One…two…three…four…it was no use. This was much too important to her to back down, and speaking logically and calmly hadn’t worked. They weren’t giving an inch. “You won’t even think about a compromise? I said I would go through the entire debut season. But I won’t, I will not marry Alan. And you can’t make me.”
Nola raised an eyebrow at that. She turned her head to look at her husband. “It’s that Whittaker boy,” she said, her voice perfectly calm. “I knew it. I should have forbidden her to see him, but I was afraid of offending Enid and Jules.” Turning back to Elizabeth, she said, “This is nothing more than a shipboard flirtation. I realize the young man is better-looking than Alan, and closer to your age. But Elizabeth, that boy has no future. He wants to be an artist, for heaven’s sake! You simply cannot be serious about him.”
“Oh, but I am. And he feels the same way. And I don’t care if he’s poor, I really don’t.”
“Well, now I am forbidding you to see him again,” Mrs. Farr said. “There will be no more talk of college, and during the remainder of this trip, you will not see or speak to Maxwell Whittaker, do you understand me?”
Tears filled Elizabeth’s eyes. But her voice was soft when she spoke. “No, Mother. That’s the problem. I don’t understand you. And I never will.” She wanted to keep fighting, not to give up until they had agreed to give her at least something of what she wanted. But it seemed so futile. It was futile. They had all the power. She had none.
“I’m not marrying Alan Reed,” Elizabeth said, still softly, and then she walked to the door to her room, opened it, went inside, closed the door behind her…and locked it.
Chapter 18
Sunday, April 14, 1912
At the service on Sunday in the first-class dining room, Katie couldn’t believe her eyes. She had thought the dining room in steerage was a sight to behold. But this room, so beauteous, its woodwork so new and shiny, even its ceiling embossed, its long, arched windows made of smoky glass was like nothing she had ever seen before. How fine it all was!
If only Pad
dy had agreed to come with her and Marta. Father Byles had said it was all right for them to attend the service, though it wasn’t Catholic, as long as they also attended his Mass in third class, which Katie had done. But while Marta had eagerly embraced the notion of seeing with her own eyes a first-class facility, Paddy had refused, saying, “Why would I want to be around them people that stared at us like we was freaks?” Brian, too, had refused, saying he had scheduled a game of cards in the smoking room.
So Katie and Marta had joined a small group from third class, mostly women, who thought it a fine idea to get a look at the huge room where the “tony people” ate.
“Not in my wildest dreams,” Katie whispered to Marta as the captain began reading, “would I imagine such a room as this. ’Tisn’t it fine, then? To think that somethin’ so wondrous would be on a ship. ’Tis just a ship, after all.”
“No,” Marta disagreed, also in a whisper, “it is not just a ship. It is the Titanic, and everything on it is like nothing ever seen before. I will be so happy to tell my mother and father what I have seen here.”
The pretty girl who had argued with her mother on that awful morning in third class was in the crowd, dressed in a navy blue skirt and jacket that looked to Katie to be made of the finest wool. She was standing between her parents. All were so nattily attired and well-groomed, they made Katie think of an advertisement in a magazine. The three made a lovely picture. Any artist who might paint them standing like that would surely title his work “A Happy Family.”
When the last hymn had been sung, Katie was reluctant to leave. She wanted to stay a while, sit in one of the fine chairs and try to imagine what it must be like to be surrounded by such luxury. The girl in the blue dress must travel in this way all the time. Fortune had smiled on her. How lovely it must be to never have to trouble yourself about the future.
Reluctantly trailing along behind the other third-class passengers returning to their quarters, Katie wondered if that girl knew how lucky she was. Could be she didn’t. If you’d never had troubles, you wouldn’t know what they were, and so you wouldn’t give them a thought. Or so it seemed to Katie.
