Read Titanic: The Long Night Online
Authors: Diane Hoh
He wanted to. There were many things Max Whittaker didn’t know yet, but whether or not he wanted to see more of Elizabeth Farr wasn’t one of them.
The question was, would
she
want to see him again, once they’d docked? Especially if he struck out on his own and didn’t have two nickles to rub together. How would Elizabeth feel about him then?
That was one of the many things that Max Whittaker
didn’t
know. It kept him awake for a long time.
Saturday, April 13, 1912
On Saturday morning, leaving Eileen still sound asleep in her berth, Katie went to the dining room with Kevin and Bridey in tow. She found Paddy and Brian standing in a corner near the bulkhead arguing heatedly. They didn’t see her come in, didn’t notice her approaching with a child attached to each hand. And they didn’t stop arguing.
“…ashamed of yourself,” she heard Paddy say in an accusing tone of voice. “Behavin’ like a rogue, you are. What would Ma say?”
They’re arguing about Marta, Katie thought, and stopped walking, holding the children back as well. She didn’t want to overhear this conversation. It was between the brothers and had nothing to do with her. But if she tried to remove the hungry children from the dining room now, Bridey would pitch a fit. Katie stood perfectly still, trying to shut her ears against their words and hoping they wouldn’t notice that she’d arrived.
But since she had to continue holding on to the children, she couldn’t very well clap her hands over her ears. With no practical way to keep the heated words from reaching her, she found herself listening in spite of her good intentions.
“What are you blatherin’ on about, Paddy? Ma isn’t here, is she, then? I’m on me own, and can pick and choose as I see fit. Marta’s a fine girl. Strikes me that you might be jealous because ’tisn’t you she’s fancyin’.”
Katie’s ears burned. Hadn’t she wondered the same thing herself? She strained to catch Paddy’s answer. But Bridey picked that moment to begin whining loudly that she was hungry, and all Katie heard was, “can’t hold a candle to…” She didn’t catch the name of the girl Marta couldn’t hold a candle to.
“…don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Paddy, and that’s the truth of it. You never did see things the way they really are, with your head in the clouds all the time. Why don’t you ask her how
she
feels? I already know, but you’re too thick-headed to see it.
Ask
her!”
Katie frowned. Why was Brian pestering Paddy to ask Marta how she felt, when anyone with two eyes in their head could see for themselves, plain as day?
It was time to end the argument. Katie marched over to the two of them, saying, “Top of the mornin’ to you both! Are you not hungry, then? I had thought to see the two of you already sittin’ and fillin’ your bellies. You could have been savin’ us some seats. What good are you?”
Brian laughed and led them all to seats. Paddy followed, looking thoroughly disgruntled.
Saturday, April 13, 1912
Elizabeth had no intention of spending all day Saturday in her room, as she had Friday. Hiding was for cowards, something she didn’t want to be. And with every nautical mile covered by the great, swift ship, which by all accounts was breaking speed records across the north Atlantic, they were drawing ever closer to New York and the end of the voyage. She had little time left and she had accomplished nothing.
It was difficult to find time alone with her parents. They were so busy, gone from their stateroom the majority of the time, having long lunches and dinners with friends, playing cards, walking along the promenade hand in hand as if there were no one else in the world but the two of them. Elizabeth had felt like an outsider in her parents’ marriage throughout her life, and this trip was no exception. She had often wished for a sibling or two, just for companionship of her own. She resented their closeness even more now. It was so obvious that they didn’t
need
her, why couldn’t they just let her
go
? To Poughkeepsie, to Vassar, to a new, exciting life. What difference could it possibly make to them?
She dressed and an hour later took the elevator down to F deck for a quick, refreshing swim. She skipped the Turkish bath, which did not appeal to her at all. She had promised to meet Max for lunch at the à la carte restaurant on B deck at noon. He was playing squash in the morning with her father, but had agreed not to mention the luncheon date to Martin Farr. Elizabeth had been very stern about that. If Max told her father, he would tell her mother, who would surely put her foot down. She had said she wouldn’t forbid Elizabeth from seeing Max, but she would never approve an intimate twosome for lunch.
Golden ribbons of light streamed through the huge glass dome over the Grand Staircase when, warmly clad in a long skirt and matching jacket of scarlet wool, Elizabeth went up on deck for a breath of fresh air before making her way to the restaurant.
He was waiting for her just outside the restaurant, as they’d agreed. He looked very handsome in a tweed jacket, and smiled when he saw her approaching. “I was going to invite Lily and Arthur to join us,” he said, “but I thought better of it. Do you mind if it’s just the two of us?”
Elizabeth laughed as they took their seats. But all she said was, “No, I don’t mind at all.” She might tell him later that she’d had the same thought. Or maybe not. Admitting that she wanted to be alone with him might be too forward.
There you go again, Elizabeth, she scolded mentally as she picked up a menu. Why are you following silly rules that make no sense to you? Why shouldn’t you tell Max you wanted to be alone with him?
But when she spoke, it was to ask him who had won the squash game.
She wasn’t surprised by his answer. “Your father, of course.” He grinned at her over his menu. “What kind of fool do you think I am?”
“You mean you didn’t score points against him because you wanted to score points
with
him,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “Isn’t that dishonest?” But she was secretly pleased. He had quite a few years on her father, and was thinner and lighter on his feet. He probably could have won. If he’d lost deliberately, it was because of her. She liked that.
Putting his menu aside, Max leaned across the table, though he didn’t attempt to take Elizabeth’s hands in his. “I’m not all that sure I could have beaten him. He’s good, and he’s in great shape. But if you’re asking me if I gave it my all, the answer is no.” His deep blue eyes were serious as he added, “Do you think I don’t know that your parents are only tolerating me because of
my
parents? Elizabeth, I want to keep seeing you after we get back home. Everyone—your parents, my parents—everyone is going to hit the ceiling when I tell my parents I’m moving out to live on my own. Your parents won’t even care that I’m a Whittaker then, because I’ll be a
poor
Whittaker. So I need all the points in my favor that I can get. Losing a squash game won’t get me many, but it’s a start.” He smiled again. “Your father seemed pretty happy. He actually called me ‘Max’ instead of ‘Whittaker.’ ”
“He likes winning.” But Elizabeth was sobered by the prospect of Max becoming alienated from his parents. Max was right about one thing. The only reason her mother hadn’t forbidden Elizabeth to see him was his status as the son of wealthy friends. If Enid and Jules were so angered by Max’s defection that they cut him off from the family, he would no longer exist for Nola Farr. He’d never set one foot inside the front door of the Farr mansion. It would be impossible for Elizabeth to ever see him again.
Because that thought was so unpalatable, she tried to persuade him during lunch to reach a compromise with his parents. Even when she realized by the set of his mouth that he was becoming annoyed with the turn the conversation had taken, she persisted.
“You could go to college and paint between classes. That way, you’d be getting what you wanted, but your parents would, too.”
“I don’t want to finish college. I had two years of it, and I was bored to death. I took business classes, because my father insisted. Have you ever taken an accounting class? The pages of a calendar are more exciting than an accounting textbook. I’m not interested in becoming a businessman, Elizabeth. I thought you understood that.”
“I do. But would it be so terrible to take a few classes if it meant keeping peace in your family?”
Max set his glass on the pristine white tablecloth and fixed a level gaze on Elizabeth’s face. “Keeping peace? Don’t you mean, seeing to it that they don’t cut me off without a penny?”
Elizabeth studied the snow-white tablecloth, “It’s not the money. It’s the
idea
, Max. As long as you’re still within the family fold, my parents won’t stop me from seeing you. But if you go off on your own entirely, if you make your parents so angry that they disown you, my mother will never tolerate a friendship between the two of us.” Her fingers nervously played with her fork. “I wouldn’t be allowed to see you again.”
“Then I guess you’d have a choice to make, too,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “You would have to decide if you were willing to defy them for my sake, wouldn’t you?” He watched her for several seconds, then added quietly, “I’d like to think that you would.”
Elizabeth’s laugh was harsh, bitter. “Max, I haven’t even decided how defiant I’m willing to be for my
own
sake. And if I do manage to accomplish what I want, I might not have any energy left to fight for you.” Her eyes met his again. “Lily would, I guess. But I’m not as independent as she is.”
“Only because you haven’t had the opportunities she’s had.” Max leaned across the table again, and this time he did take Elizabeth’s hands in his. “Don’t sell yourself short, Elizabeth. You’re as strong as Lily any day. All you need is a chance to prove it to yourself.”
Elizabeth glanced around nervously, fearful that someone might see Max holding her hands and gazing at her so intently.
Though the restaurant was filled to capacity, Elizabeth saw no one she recognized as being a shipboard acquaintance of her mother’s.
Sudden defiance filled her. Angry with herself for being nervous about being seen with Max, she sat up straighter in her chair, still holding his hands. I like the way he sees me, she told herself, and rewarded him with a brilliant smile. I
want
to be strong and independent like Lily. My parents think I can’t be, but Max thinks I can. I’d rather believe him.
If Max were around all the time, maybe after a while she’d see herself the way he saw her.
Then her back stiffened again. No. She wasn’t going to get her sense of who she was from someone
else
, not even from someone as nice as Max. It had to come from
her
, or it wouldn’t mean anything.
Still, it was nice to have someone encouraging her. That was more than Alan would ever do. He had no wish to see her strong and independent.
She and Max were still mildly arguing about the meaning of compromise when Lily and Arthur arrived and joined them. Because they weren’t getting anywhere in their discussion, neither Max nor Elizabeth objected. The lunch interval hadn’t turned out quite as they’d planned. If they couldn’t spend this time together without discussing family, they might just as well let friends join them.
After lunch, they played shuffleboard on deck. The air was becoming increasingly colder, and someone mentioned the possibility of icebergs in the area. Elizabeth peered off into the distance, but when she saw nothing but the horizon, she dismissed the threat of huge chunks of ice floating in the sea. However, a strange shiver went over her.
Her parents strolled by once, and although Nola failed to smile in Max’s direction, she didn’t demand that Elizabeth leave the group.
When they had passed by, Lily asked, “She does not like you very much, Max, Elizabeth’s mother? What is it that you did to offend her?”
Not wanting to talk about her mother, Elizabeth left the group and went to the rail to stare out across the water. It was as smooth as a black satin comforter. The
Titanic
caused hardly a ripple. Remembering the mention of icebergs, she scanned the sea again, but there were no bulky shapes looming out of the darkness.
Lily joined her at the rail. “You are sad, Elizabeth?”
“No. Not sad. Just…frustrated.” She glanced down upon the third-class open area, watching as the pretty Irish girl she’d seen loading from the tender at Queenstown, the two brothers who had accompanied her on board, and a laughing girl with blond hair played catch with what looked like a child’s rag doll. People sitting on the sidelines cheered them on. Elizabeth envied them. They were third-class passengers, so they had a lot less money than her family or Max’s, yet they seemed to be having far more fun than Elizabeth.
Saturday, April 13, 1912
Kevin and Bridey, contentedly full of rabbit pie and baked potatoes, lay on benches in the general room after dinner, playing with handmade pinwheels given them by a crew member. Katie played the piano and sang, hoping all the while that Paddy would join her on the bench. But each time she glanced around the room in search of him, she found him flanked by a cluster of young women. If he noticed that she was hitting the keys increasingly harder until she was fairly pounding out each note, he gave no sign.
She didn’t see Brian and Marta anywhere and assumed they’d gone for a walk. Eileen was ignoring the children and her betrothal to Sean to flirt outrageously with a tall, blond Norwegian.
Katie had her back turned to the general room. Suddenly, she was interrupted in mid-refrain by a child’s shriek of terror. When she whirled in alarm on the piano bench, the first thing she saw was Bridey falling, headfirst, from the very top of a tall tower of wooden crates. There was no one standing beneath her to catch her before she crashed to the bare floor.
Voices cried out, shouting a warning. Kevin shouted in panic for Eileen, who was too far away in a dim corner to be of any use. As everyone watched in horror, Bridey continued her headlong dive.
And then Paddy seemed to appear out of nowhere, not so much running as flinging himself forward, his feet barely touching the bare floor, his arms outstretched. There was one terrible, breath-stealing second when it seemed he was too late, when it looked like he was not close enough, and Bridey’s headlong descent would continue uninterrupted all the way to the floor.