The Captain's Daughter (6 page)

The girl was shivering, crying as Celeste wrapped another blanket around her. ‘Sit tight, now . . . Be British, be brave, you’re safe here.’ The warmth of human touch in the darkness was all she could offer. ‘We must all stay calm.’

It was while she was nursing the girl that there came another commotion from the water and an arm stretched out, dumping a sodden blanket into the lap of a shaking boy. ‘Take the child!’ a gruff voice shouted. Celeste thought she caught sight of a white beard in the lantern light.

‘It’s the captain . . . Sir! Captain Smith. We can take you aboard,’ yelled a sailor, reaching out to the man in the water.

The arm hovered for a second and then withdrew. ‘Good luck, lads, do your duty.’

Silence followed.

‘Give the bairn to its ma,’ the sailor shouted, and suddenly the bundle was passed down the boat into the girl’s arms, swathed in dry blankets. The girl clung to the baby with relief, suddenly roused from her stupor, groping in the darkness for the baby’s face, fingering her frozen cheek, listening for every breath. She cried with relief on hearing the baby whimper.

God in His mercy had reunited them! Celeste thought. What a wonderful thing to see amidst the horrors of the night. What if this had been Roddy? Thank goodness she had not brought him on her travels. For once Grover was right to withhold his consent. How could she ever have lived with herself if he had been lost?

Celeste strained to see in the darkness, leaning over the boat’s side, knowing so many babies and their families were in the icy water. How many more would survive the night? One thing was sure, after this terrifying ordeal, after what she had just seen, life would never be the same for her again.

May clutched her baby for dear life, barely able to believe, through her stupor, that such a miracle had happened. Now, relief jolted her back into life, the numbness replaced by a stinging pain. In the darkness she could feel the baby was warm, alive, her breathing soft as she slept. If only she could peel back the layers and kiss her downy cheek, but the chill off the Atlantic was too raw for her safely to disturb the blankets.

She smelled of the sea, oil, salt. She looked up to see stars shooting across the midnight-blue sky and thanked God her darling girl had been saved. There was mercy after all.

‘How can such a terrible thing be happening on such a beautiful night?’ whispered the girl by her side, her auburn hair trailing under her black hat. Together they watched the ship rising up in its death throes, silhouetted against the sky like a black finger accusing the heavens of a great treachery. Then came more terrible screams as passengers threw themselves off the vessel, swimming, thrashing, drowning, crying for their mothers, to God, to the saints for mercy. May knew she’d be hearing those voices for as long as she lived.

‘Go back, please, go back!’ the women both cried. ‘My husband’s in the sea . . .’ May insisted.

‘So is half the ship,’ yelled one of their crew. ‘We’ve done our bit. It’s too dangerous. All hope is lost now.’

May turned her back. She couldn’t bear to watch any longer as she nuzzled the baby into her chest, trying to blot out the cries.

‘For God’s sake, help them!’ the woman next to her cried out. ‘Have you no hearts?’

‘Shut up! You’ve got your bairn. We can’t take on any more, we’ll capsize.’

‘Save your strength, lady, it’s going to be a long night,’ a hoarse voice ordered.

The girl in black slumped forward, silently shivering as they watched two funnels of the great leviathan collapse. The ship was snapping in two, one half slipping underwater, the other rearing up like a pointing finger before it slid smoothly into the deep as if it was the most natural thing in the world. May rocked her baby back and forth, grateful for the warmth and comfort of her.

If Ellen was safe there was hope for Joe too, May reasoned. Her heart lightened at this thought.
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil
, she prayed for those lost souls, trusting Joe must be on another lifeboat. She looked up again and strained to listen as the watery screams grew fainter. There followed an awesome silence.

‘They’re all gone,’ whispered the young woman next to her. ‘Their pain is over, but ours is only beginning, I fear. The crew didn’t mean to shout at you. Fear makes us do terrible things. Thank God your baby is safe. Come on, chaps, row us to the other boats. Someone out there must be looking for us.’

‘Aye aye, lady, they will that, and all the boats must stick together,’ shouted the sailor in charge of their lifeboat as the lantern swung slowly across the prow.

Soon they made a silent flotilla of bobbing boats strung together like toy ships on a great millpond. Slowly the dawn was breaking. May had never felt so cold. Somehow the baby slept on. Hours went by when there was nothing but ice and the lapping of the oars on the water. She felt the chill numbing all sensation in her limbs. It was hard not to drift into sleep. In her mind’s eye she could see Joe swimming, being lifted into a lifeboat, alive out there just as she was, searching, praying they would soon be united. She clung to this hope like a life raft.

‘Keep awake, everyone. Don’t go to sleep or you might not wake up,’ a warning went out. It was hard not to surrender to sleep, to blissful ignorance, but May was on guard, watching for any change in her baby’s breathing. Every time her head nodded she jerked it back. Then suddenly there were shouts of a light on the horizon, a real light this time, not a false dawn, and a rocket arced into the night sky.

‘They’re coming! Look over there; a ship is coming! Wake up! We’re saved!’

Celeste tried to coax her frozen limbs back to life. For a few precious minutes she’d held the baby girl for the mother while she rubbed her icy hands and tried to thaw them. How could a baby sleep through such drama? She had no idea what a miracle child she was. Had it really been the captain who’d saved her? He had made no attempt to rescue himself.

‘About bloody time!’ shouted an old lady with a shawl round her head that ‘she’ no longer bothered using to conceal the beard on ‘her’ chin: another spineless wonder who had jumped ship to save his skin, Celeste thought, sickened. How she despised such cowards, along with the woman who edged herself away from the mother and baby as if she suspected they had fleas.

Celeste watched the chunks of iceberg all around them, transfixed by the beauty of the growlers. As the sun rose they sparkled like jewels, among them the monster that had caused the disaster. How cruel was nature in bringing them so low with such magnificence.

The sea began to swell and toss them from side to side as if to challenge this rescue attempt. The ship was coming closer. Celeste wrapped her own dry blanket round the baby. How had it come to this?

‘Are you all right?’ she whispered to May. ‘Shall I take the baby?’

‘Thank you, but no. You have been so kind. I don’t even know your name.’

‘My name is Celestine Parkes. I was on my way home. And this little one?’ she asked, touching the baby’s arm.

‘This is Ellen and I am May Smith. My husband, Joe, will be on another lifeboat. We’re heading out to the Midwest and he’s got the address and everything.’

The poor girl was not taking in what had happened to them at all, Celeste realized. The chances of her husband being picked up would be slim. ‘How will you manage?’

‘We’ll get by,’ May Smith whispered to the baby in her lap. ‘We’ll be all right.’

Only as the dawn light brightened and the ship on the horizon loomed large did May relax her grip of the blankets that swaddled Ellen so securely. She was so tiny, she thought, as if she had shrunk in the water, and still she slept on. Better not disturb her. When Joe met up with them she’d have such a story to tell him: how she was dragged from the water half dead and the baby rescued not five minutes later. She felt so tired and weary and her whole body ached as she shivered. One glimpse of her daughter would bring her back to life.

As the light flooded into the lifeboat she pulled back the blankets framing her tiny face to see if she was awake.

The eyes staring back at her shone like coal. Eyes she’d never seen in her life before. Ellen’s eyes were blue. Swallowing the scream that rose in her throat she pulled the blanket back down over the face again to blot out the discovery, her heart thumping with horror. This isn’t her, she thought in horror. It’s not my baby!

No one was taking any notice of May; they were too busy cheering on the rescue ship. She looked again, only to see those strange eyes peeking out from a lace bonnet, piercing her soul. She examined the baby’s face minutely to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. From what she could see of its clothes under the swaddle of blankets, they were different from Ellen’s too.

May sat back shaking as the great ocean liner steamed towards them. This wasn’t right. This was not how it should be:
The Lord gives and the Lord takes but not from me. Is this His idea of a joke, this gift of life from the sea? Was this the captain’s last act of courage, to put a stranger’s baby in my lap? Where is my own baby? I want her back.

She stared behind her to all that was gone, to the murderous sea so calm and treacherous and then at the face staring up at her, wide-eyed, questioning: Who are you? This baby was all there was, this child of the sea, someone’s daughter or son.

What do I do? Oh, please God, what do I do now?

Celeste watched the ship racing towards them with mounting excitement. She sighed with relief that their ordeal was almost over. If she lived for a hundred years she would never forget what she’d seen this night. Her escape had been smooth, plenty of time to pile on warm clothes on top of her nightdress, a walk over planks into a descending lifeboat. They’d been warned early by the stewards in First Class, handed life jackets and ushered quickly to safety. She had seen the look in the stewardess’s eyes that made her obey her orders, a grimace of a smile and that hesitancy when she asked what was happening.

But what she had just witnessed was obscene, unspeakable suffering. This was the greatest ship on earth on its maiden voyage and yet a hazard of nature had ripped it apart. Amidst the horror had she really seen a baby restored to its mother’s arms by the captain? She’d seen a silver beard and white hair – was it really him? Poor man, whoever he was. How could she ever forget him tugging away the arms that would have rescued him? And those final words?

Thank God she hadn’t brought Roddy. How she longed to have him in her arms now but he’d be back home, tucked up in his bed, with his nursemaid, Susan, in the next room. Grover would be in his office burning the midnight oil or out on the town somewhere. With God knows who, she thought grimly.

The sea began to swell again, throwing them from side to side. For a brief second she felt panic, to be close and yet so far from safety. Would she ever see her little boy again? She watched the girl next to her hugging her child, moaning from the chill, calling out the name of her lost husband over and over again. Pain was etched on her stricken face.

At least Celeste’s new coat was keeping them both warm, and the fox fur tippet was now wrapped around the girl. She’d pinned her purse into her coat lining alongside her rings and the photos of Roddy she’d brought to show to Papa. How futile possessions seemed now, she reflected.

She looked at the pathetic procession of lifeboats. Why were so many only half full? She’d assumed earlier that other passengers had been on the other side of the ship being loaded up, following behind them but now she realized just how few survivors there appeared to be. So many must have been trapped, so many of the Third Class passengers left to fend for themselves. It wasn’t right.

At least their crew had eventually had the heart to linger, pulling out three swimmers before the poor girl whose agony tore at her heart. The young mother was about her own age, a tiny thing, her accent northern. It would be Celeste’s duty to see them safely aboard the rescue ship. She would also see that she got good treatment for her frozen hands. A clergyman’s daughter knew her responsibilities. It would take her mind off her own sad thoughts.

Mother’s funeral seemed far off now. At least she’d been laid to rest with dignity, unlike all those poor frozen souls thrashing in the ice until they thrashed no more and gave up in despair. She hoped what they said about drowning was true, that it was like sleep in the end.

The steerage passengers had been called up too late, anyone could see that; one rule for the rich and another for the poor. It was shameful.

What were her meagre problems now compared to the women who had watched their husbands drown? She must grit her teeth and return to Akron, to the smell of its chemical factories, back to darling Roddy, back to Grover and the difficulties of their marriage. Her brief respite was over: a funeral and a shipwreck, not much of a holiday.

She had been spared for a purpose. She must swallow any discontent and fear for herself. Shocked as she was, she knew she must bear witness to what she had seen and ask for answers. Why had this disaster happened? How many had died needlessly? Who would be accountable for all this slaughter? But first she must take these two survivors under her wing. It was the proper thing to do and would take her mind off an unholy thought growing inside her.

Celeste looked back to where the
Titanic
had sunk. If her husband had accompanied her, he would now be resting fathoms deep under the ocean. Grover liked to think he was a gentleman. Would he have stepped back like the other husbands and done his duty? She couldn’t be sure. How could she be thinking such a terrible thought at such a time? But it was there in her mind and would not be dislodged.

‘It’s the
Carpathia
! She’s come for us.’ A weak cheer went up as the big liner steamed to their rescue. Soon they would be safe. Celeste turned to her companion, wondering how on earth they’d get the children and the injured up the ladders to safety. She knew she would stay with her two charges until they did.