The Captain's Daughter (11 page)

‘How can I thank you?’ May cried, clinging to her. ‘You saved our lives. I shall never forget you.’

‘We’re sisters now.’ Celeste found herself crying too. ‘Sisters of the
Titanic
, bound by what we saw that night. You must write and tell me how you get on in Lichfield. Promise to write and maybe, God willing, I’ll come over with Roddy and we’ll meet again. When I write to you I will think of home. You will be my special link.’

‘I expect you will be very busy with your committees. You don’t have to write, you know. I shall never forget your kindness. Oh, and tell your husband, thank you for letting you be by my side. He must be desperate to see you.’

‘I will write and I’ll send you a photograph of Roderick and you must send me a portrait of Ella and yourself. We must never let people forget what happened to the
Titanic.
You must tell people at home what you saw and heard, all of it, good and bad. It must never happen again.’

They both looked up at the liner and May shivered with apprehension.

Celeste felt herself hesitating. Why did she not want May to leave? ‘You don’t have to go so soon. You can stay on and build up your strength before you face another sea voyage. I know what you are thinking: how can I get on another boat?’

May tried to be brave, and attempted a smile. ‘I just want to go home and get away from here. There’s no future for us here. We’ll manage now you’ve given me an opening. We’re better off in our own country, I reckon.’

‘Here.’ Celeste smiled, shoving a silver hip flask into her hand. ‘Someone gave it to me on board for Dutch courage. Take it. It’ll warm you through and help you sleep. It’s good French brandy.’

‘Thanks, but I’ve never tasted spirits in my life so I’ll not start now. I’ll manage with sweet tea and cocoa.’ May handed it back.

‘You are such a brave woman. I’m proud to have met you. How do you stay so calm?’ Celeste had tears in her eyes.

‘She gives me the strength to carry on.’ May nodded to the sleeping baby. ‘She comes first. We’ll be fine. You’d better go. Everyone’s been so kind but the sooner we board, the sooner we’ll be off. No long goodbyes. Thanks from the bottom of my heart. You’ve been a pal. You needn’t have bothered with me but you did. You saved my life, keeping me warm and awake on that lifeboat. There are no words I can say to thank you for that.’

‘I mean it, May, write to me. Tell me how things are, paint me pictures of my home town. I would be so grateful for your correspondence. I do get homesick sometimes.’

‘I’ll do my best. Never had much use for pen and paper, just lists and stuff like that. I’ve never had anyone to write to before but I’ll give it a try. I just hope this thing floats better than the other.’ May glanced up with a wry smile on her face. ‘I never thought I’d make a joke like that. What’s happening to me?’

‘Change, that’s what. None of us will ever be the same because of what happened. But we survived and we will continue to. Look how brave you’ve been, and so determined, going back over the very ocean that . . .’ she hesitated. ‘Good luck and
bon voyage.’
Celeste felt tears welling up as she kissed the baby and then hugged May tightly. ‘Go on before I make a fool of myself. I will never forget your courage and will to make a new life after such a tragedy. God be with you on your journey. You’ve given me so much to think about.’

May walked away and Celeste stood until she was just a speck in the distance, then lost amongst the bustle of the docks. ‘Will we ever meet again?’ she sighed, turning towards the gate.

Every day since his recovery, Angelo took his well-trodden path to the offices of the White Star Line. Surely someone somewhere had news? He’d heard of mistakes on the passenger lists. The clerk with the furrowed brow and weary eyes looked up and sighed heavily on recognizing Angelo.

‘Not you again, son. Now listen, I’ve told you before, if we had any more news we’d send you a wire. We have your address.’ The clerks had been sympathetic at first, but over the weeks they grew impatient as Angelo pleaded daily for them to recheck the survivors list. ‘They embarked at Cherbourg, your wife and baby but they didn’t make it. The numbers all tally. Sadly they’re not on any list.’

‘But I heard some gave false names.’

‘Rumours and press speculation, that’s all. You have to accept they went down like so many other poor souls on that night.’

‘But look at this shoe . . . My wife was skilled with lacework, like my mother. In our region they make special lace and she told me she was bringing it over to New York to sell. No one else could do this work, no one.’

‘Maybe someone bought it from her on the ship, one of the passengers. Maybe it got stolen. There are all manner of possibilities,’ the clerk replied, deliberately turning to the mountain of paperwork on his desk and thereby signalling to Angelo that he considered the conversation closed.

People behind him started tutting impatiently. Angelo knew his dishevelled appearance – the days’ worth of beard growth, his wild-eyed stare – made him look deranged. He could quite see how he would be mistaken for a madman. In truth he questioned his own sanity. He turned round to show the little shoe to the other folk in the queue.

‘Who would steal a baby’s shoe?’ he asked them.

‘There are passengers who’d steal the fleas off a dog, given half a chance,’ muttered a man behind him.

‘I’m sorry,’ said the clerk. ‘Go home and write to your folks, wherever they live, that the news is bad.’

‘How can I tell her mamma that I caused her daughter’s death? It was me who said it would be a good life here. It will kill them to discover this.’

‘Look, sonny, face facts. They’re gone and you have to break the news as best you can.’

‘What if they are wandering the streets looking for me?’

The clerk took off his horn-rimmed glasses and wiped them, shaking his head. ‘You Italians have your own newspapers and shops. They’d find you.’

‘I’ve stuck cards everywhere I can: in the church, lodging houses, on billboards, even on the sidewalks. I have this feeling. I must keep looking just in case someone knows something,’ Angelo pleaded. He couldn’t give up, not now. He was haunted by the thought of Maria and the child stuck in the city somewhere, alone in a foreign land, unable to make themselves understood.

‘Your effort does you credit, but we’ve also done everything we can at this end. Talk to your priests and city folk, but you have to face the truth.’

‘What is true? They say that the ship went down with only enough lifeboats for half the passengers, that Third Class were left until it was too late . . . I’ve heard rumours, people shot on deck. Can you imagine what my wife went through and with no one to help her?’ He was shouting now.

‘Calm down, rumours won’t help you. What happened happened, and that is what the public inquiry is for, to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.’

Someone listening interrupted. ‘And how many steerage men have been called to bear witness? Only three out of hundreds, I’ve heard. It was mass slaughter. How can this boy ever get justice? It’s a disgrace!’

‘I am not judge or jury. I’m just doing my job. So don’t take it out on me. You have to get on with your life. There’s many worse off than you.’ The clerk was rattled by the support Angelo was getting. ‘Any more of this and I’ll call the manager.’

There was nothing more to say, but Angelo pulled out the tiny shoe once again, showing it to the audience. ‘I will have to live with this for the rest of my life. I killed my baby,’ he whispered. ‘And I didn’t even get to hold her. She was born after I left.’ He pulled out a tattered photo. ‘This is all I have, this photo of my Maria and Alessia.’

‘Such a pretty name,’ said a woman pityingly.

‘It was my grandmother’s name,’ he said, crossing himself.

‘Now go and find yourself a stall, have a coffee and calm down,’ the clerk said. ‘You can’t keep taking time off work to come here.’

‘How can a man work when he’s lost his world? Why did this have to happen to us? What did they do to deserve such an end?’

‘Beats me, son, beats me. What sort of an Almighty lets some live and some die? I’m sorry but you must go. There’s others waiting in the queue.’

As Angelo turned to leave the clerk hesitated. ‘Good luck! Maybe one day the truth will out.’

Someone patted him on the back. Another squeezed his arm. None of it comforted him.

Fingering the shoe in his pocket Angelo bent his head and pulled his cap over his face to hide his distress. He would never stop looking for Maria and Alessia. But first he needed more than strong coffee if he was going to write a letter home that would break all their hearts.

The journey back to Akron was a sullen affair. Celeste stared out of the window while Jack Bryden chattered on about the Wells family who’d lost both their men in the sinking. They were now five days later than planned, partly out of Celeste’s defiance and disappointment that Grover hadn’t rushed to New York to greet her. It might have made their reunion easier if he had been waiting, full of concern for her safety. All those cries of raw emotion she’d witnessed brought home how unmissed she had been, how life in Akron went on smoothly without her. Even Roddy sometimes saw more of his nursemaid, Susan, than he did of his mother. All that must change. All she’d got was poor Jack waiting in his mackintosh as if she was a mere client visitor to the Diamond Rubber Company. She’d wanted to scream at him but you didn’t shoot the messenger. What was she thinking? Where was this fierce rage coming from?

Those meetings with Margaret Brown and her friends had filled her with zeal. She must continue her campaigning no matter what, and then there was the
Carpathia
reception to organize. She had telephoned Grover two nights earlier with their change of plan. He informed her that a welcome home soiree in her honour had now had to be rescheduled. He was clearly far from pleased about this delay. There would be a car waiting for them at the train station.

Celeste thought once again of May on the high seas and hoped her journey back was trouble free. How brave she was to trust herself to another ship. How would she find life in the Midlands? Would she settle there? She shook her head to clear her mind, her thoughts spiralling. She must concentrate on her duties. Only the thought of Roddy’s welcome warmed her heart.

As they drew into the driveway of the large house off Portage Hill, its ivy-clad turrets in each corner making it look more like a fortress than a home, she wondered what sort of reception would be waiting for her. Looking up, she saw Grover staring at her from an upstairs window, and she shivered.

The maid was standing at the door. ‘Welcome home, Mrs Parkes. We are so glad you are safe.’

‘Thank you, Minnie,’ Celeste smiled. ‘Where’s Master Roddy?’

‘Out with his nurse. We didn’t know what time the train would arrive. The Master told Susan to take him out into the sunshine. I’m sure they won’t be long.’

Celeste felt bitter disappointment stinging her.

‘The Master’s in the study. He’ll see you in there when you’re ready.’

Celeste’s heart sank at this command. She was in disgrace. Everything had its price, and staying in New York would be viewed by Grover as defiance of the first order. With leaden feet she climbed the wide oak staircase to his study like a child before the headmaster. Her new-found courage was fast deserting her.

‘At last. Close the door.’ Grover strode across the room from the window. The look on his face would melt steel.

‘How dare you arrive so late? I gave Bryden strict orders to bring you straight home, and you defy me,’ he roared, his florid face growing even redder.

‘I know, I’m sorry, but there were people I needed to help, survivors. It was terrible, Grover. You wouldn’t have believed your own eyes. I couldn’t desert them.’

‘I don’t want to hear your excuses.’ He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. ‘You were able to desert your own family for weeks.
That
didn’t bother you.’

‘My mother died. I had to go back.’

‘You took your time to return. Go and get changed. We need to leave soon.’

‘I want to see Roddy first. I’ve missed him so much.’

‘He’s out with Susan. She’s more a mother to him than you are. He’ll barely even notice you’re back.’

‘How can you say that? I wanted to take him with me to England but you wouldn’t let me. My mother never even got to see him. Now it’s too late.’ She was close to tears. She was arguing and she knew that was unwise when Grover was in this mood.

‘Do as I say and get those drab things off. You look like a common shop worker.’

‘I’m in mourning.’

‘Not here, you’re not. Black doesn’t become you.’

‘It suits my mood after what I saw, what I’ve been through,’ she snapped.

The blow to her shoulder knocked her sideways into the bureau. She staggered.

‘I will not stand for disobedience in this house,’ Grover roared. ‘You ignore my instructions, my driver, my timetable. You know what happens when you do that.’ He was standing over her with flint in his grey eyes. Celeste tried to stand upright.

‘I nearly drowned and you expect me to dress up for a party? Grover, please . . .’

‘You should be grateful. My mother has been preparing this soiree for days. The cream of Akron society will want to hear your story first-hand.’

Celeste touched her shoulder, which hurt terribly. She felt dizzy and disoriented with the speed of her fall. ‘I’m tired. I don’t feel like celebrating anything.’

‘What you feel and what you want is of no importance,’ Grover barked.

‘Please, another night,’ she pleaded.

‘Go to the bedroom. You need to be taught a lesson, one you won’t forget in a hurry.’

Celeste saw the furious gleam in his eye and knew what was coming next. ‘Oh, not now, please. Can’t you see I’m hurt? For the love of God, don’t take me now.’

‘You are my wife and I won’t be denied my rights. Get to the bedroom before I drag you by the hair. I would’ve thought by now you’d know who is master in this house. I will not be made to look foolish by a disobedient wife.’