Titanic: The Long Night (11 page)

Everyone around them laughed.

The food could have tasted like sawdust, and still Katie would have been impressed. She felt as if she were dining in a fine restaurant, and tried very hard not to feel self-conscious. If she was going to spend her life entertaining in public, she really would have to become much more sophisticated, she decided. She would begin practicing now, by behaving in a ladylike, grown-up manner and not exclaiming over every wonderful thing that she saw, as if she had never in her life before seen anything wondrous. Which wasn’t exactly true, because she had seen one or two castles in her lifetime, and anyway, the rugged coast of Ireland was a thing of beauty all by itself.

But she couldn’t help exclaiming over the food. Not only was there enough of it on her plate to feed herself and two others, but the sausage was wonderfully spicy, the mashed potatoes hot and creamy, the apple-and-rice side dish perfectly seasoned, at least to her palate. She hadn’t eaten much during their long trip to Queenstown, and it had been a long day for her. She was starving. It seemed to her as the table became laden that she had come to exactly the right place.

Once or twice during the pleasant meal, she wondered again why Paddy thought it was Brian’s job to look out for her, but each time the thought occurred to her, Paddy was deep in an animated conversation with someone else at the table and she didn’t want to interrupt.

When she was full, Katie lay down her fork and smiled widely. She felt warm and safe and satisfied. Her da had been right. Traveling on the
Titanic
was a wonderful way to get to America.

Thursday, April 11, 1912

After dinner, Max insisted they all go next door to the Parisian sidewalk café. “Of course,” he added with a smile, “there is no sidewalk and it is not, technically speaking, outdoors. But it is decorated to resemble a café, and the waiters speak French, so we can imagine the rest, can’t we?”

Elizabeth protested that it wouldn’t be as warm and cozy as the lounge. Lily laughed and tossed her long, dark hair, saying, “Ah, Elizabeth, comfort should not always be the most important thing. Is not fun important to you also?”

“It’s hard to have fun when I’m cold,” Elizabeth answered, but her tone was pleasant enough. She was determined not to ruin the evening. And the fact that her parents had not yet arrived served to maintain her good mood.

The Farrs appeared in the doorway just as the quartet was leaving. Nola was laughing at something her husband had just said, and her cheeks were high with color, proving that she, too, was having a good time.

She’ll be in a pleasant frame of mind later, Elizabeth told herself happily. And because she is, Father will be, too. I would be wise to take advantage of that. I’ll have to make a point of getting back to the cabin before they retire.

But Nola’s smile disappeared when Max appeared at Elizabeth’s elbow. She was barely civil as she greeted them.

“Whew!” Max said under his breath to Elizabeth as they entered the Parisian café. “She really isn’t one of my fans, is she? Have I done something to offend her?”

Yes, Elizabeth thought, you defied your parents. She was glad Max had noticed her mother’s coolness. Perhaps now he would understand why she was so anxious about her own future. But she didn’t want to discuss that now. She was here to have fun, as Lily had said. “I think it was your haircut when she first met you,” Elizabeth answered smoothly. “Even though you’ve had it cut since, she disapproved. It didn’t meet her standards. But then, almost nothing does.”

“Will she forgive me?”

“Probably not. But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Max fixed a skeptical eye on Elizabeth as a waiter, conversing in French with Lily and Arthur, ushered them to a table. When Max asked in a low voice, “Why am I getting the feeling that if your mother
did
like me, you wouldn’t be here with me now?” Elizabeth just stared at him.

They sat down, Max beside Elizabeth, Arthur’s and Lily’s barrel-backed rattan chairs side by side. Greenery trailed up white trellises along the walls, a whimsical but attractive detail. The round, heavy tables were crowded with passengers, all of whom seemed to be having a good time. But Elizabeth was focused on Max’s strange remark. “You think I’m here to spite my mother? That if she approved of you, I wouldn’t? You think I’m that vindictive?”

He shook his head. “No, not vindictive. But the thought crossed my mind that you might be using me to get back at her. I saw you watching the doorway all through dinner. As if you were hoping she’d show up and see you sitting with me.”

Elizabeth laughed. “If that’s what you thought, you’re not nearly as smart as I gave you credit for. It was just the opposite. I was dreading their arrival. I knew she’d be watching me like a hawk every single second. In fact, she said as much when I was leaving the cabin. She’s very afraid rumors will get back to Alan.
I’m
not, but she is.”

Lily and Arthur stopped talking suddenly, and all Max could say was, “Really? That’s the truth of it?”

“That’s the truth of it.”

He looked satisfied then, and since neither Lily nor Arthur was impolite enough to ask what they’d been talking about, the conversation turned to the delightful atmosphere of the café.

When their pleasant interlude in the Parisian café came to an end, Arthur invited Lily to stroll the promenade with him. Max suggested that he and Elizabeth go up to the boat deck for a last look at the stars before retiring for the evening.

“How do you know there are any stars out tonight?” she teased as they moved on up the staircase to A deck. “It could be cloudy.”

“It’s not. I promise.”

He was right. The sky was clear, the stars sparkling overhead in a vast, velvety sky that seemed endless, as did the flat expanse of sea surrounding the ship like a dark carpet. The sweet strains of a waltz sounded faintly from somewhere below, and although the air was cold, Elizabeth’s red-beaded jacket was heavy and lined with silk. She wasn’t cold.

But Max must have thought she was because, as they reached the rail and stood there looking out, he put an arm around her shoulders. Elizabeth did not dislike the idea, but her immediate response was, If my mother came upon us now, heads would roll. Mine and Max’s. Still, she did not shrug off the arm, or comment on his boldness.

“Look,” he said as they both stood gazing out across the dark water, “if I sounded unsympathetic when you first mentioned wanting to go to college, I’m sorry. I guess it’s harder for girls to do what they want. I don’t really know why that’s true, but I think it is. Am I right?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. Do your parents bother you constantly about finding a good wife?”

“No, not really. Just a stable, financially rewarding career.”

“That’s what I thought. It’s different for boys. Your parents
want
you to go out in the world and make your mark. Marriage seems to be the
only
thing my parents ever talk about. Their only child, their daughter,
must
find a good husband. As if that were the only option open to me. As if I weren’t capable of anything but marrying.”

“Now, why do I think that isn’t even close to the truth?”

“I don’t know. You don’t know me very well. My parents, on the other hand, have known me all my life. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m
not
suited for anything but marriage.”

Max laughed. “You’re right about one thing. They
have
known you all your life.”

Elizabeth didn’t laugh. “What if they
are
right?” She sighed heavily. “What if wanting to get an education is just a silly dream? What if I try it, and fail? That would be so humiliating.”

“You won’t fail.” His voice was firm, allowing no argument. “And if it’s what you want, you
should
try it.” He slipped his arm off her shoulders and turned toward her. “Elizabeth, look at me.”

When she did, the expression on his face was one of earnestness, and his eyes were serious. “If you don’t try, you’ll wonder for the rest of your life how different things might have been.”

“If I were happy in the marriage, I wouldn’t.” Though she couldn’t imagine herself ever being that happy with Alan Reed. When had she ever seen him laughing?

Max shook his head. “I don’t see how you can be happy if you’re not doing what you want. I just don’t see how that’s possible.”

She lifted her chin. “And what about you? Are you going to do what you want? You’re going back home. Doesn’t that mean you’re giving in? The minute you’re back in your parents’ Manhattan town house, aren’t they going to expect you to do what they want?”

He turned back to the rail. “Oh, I’m not going back there. Did you think I was? I’m getting my own place. It won’t be much. I can’t afford much, and I’m not taking any more money from my grandmother. But it’ll be my own, and that’s what I want. I’ve decided to study art in earnest. That’s why I left Paris. Because I know what I want now.”

“If you really want to study art, isn’t Paris the perfect place to do it?”

“No. The people I met there are already artists. They may not be selling yet; most of them aren’t. But they already know how to do what they need to do. Me, I’m just an amateur. I need a lot more study, and there is a man in New York who has agreed to teach me. In return, I’ll run errands for him, fix things in his apartment—yes, I
do
know how to fix things, thanks to my grandfather. He knows how to fix everything, and taught me some of what he knows. The man who will be giving me art lessons is a well-known artist who takes on few students.” Max smiled. “And he is
not
a friend of my parents, in case you’re wondering. He’s never met them. He’s taking me on because of some work I sent him.?

“Max, that’s wonderful! You really
are
going to be an artist!”

“We’ll see. I don’t know that yet. All I know is, I’m going to try my best. I have to.” He reached out to place a hand on Elizabeth’s cheek. Holding her eyes with his own, he said, “And I think you have to try, too. Whatever it takes, Elizabeth. Or you’ll spend your entire life unhappy and wondering.”

His touch was warm on her cold cheek, and gentle. He had just lectured her, and she wouldn’t have accepted that from anyone else. She was wondering why she was willing to accept it from him, and she was also thinking how close his lips were, just inches away, when her mother’s voice cut into the night air like a knife.

“Elizabeth! What do you think you’re doing?”

Thursday, April 11, 1912

“What were you thinking?” Nola Farr cried. “You were practically
kissing
him! In public!”

They were back in the Farrs’ stateroom, mother facing daughter, father rising from the desk where he had been penning a note to a friend in New York. He was frowning in irritation at this latest discord. “Kissing whom? What’s happening here?”

Elizabeth’s face was scarlet. “She embarrassed me in front of Max Whittaker, that’s what’s going on! Max and I were just talking, that’s all.” She whirled toward her father. “And the next thing I knew, she was dragging me down the stairs by my sleeve, as if I were a criminal.”

“You were acting like one.”

“Kissing is not a criminal offense, Mother. And I wasn’t kissing him, anyway. I told you, we were just talking.” But I wanted to kiss him, she almost added. She thought better of it at the last moment. As it was, there would be no discussion about her college plans on this night, not with her mother so angry. Unless her father—

“Elizabeth, your mother is right,” he said, dashing what little hope she had left. “You know how people on a ship gossip. Alan has friends on this voyage. You don’t want to ruin your life over some little shipboard flirtation.”

Until that moment, Elizabeth had never intended anything more than that with Max. He was interesting to talk to, he did seem to listen when she talked, and she liked the attention she got from other passengers when he was with her. It would be fun to stroll the promenade with a handsome young man at her side. But Max was planning to defy his parents. That would leave him poor, at least until he became a famous painter, which could take years. How could he be of any help to her if he was struggling himself? He couldn’t. So there could be nothing serious between them.

“If he wasn’t the son of friends,” her mother said, turning toward the mirror to unpin her hat, “I would see to it that you did not spend another moment with young Whittaker again during the remainder of our voyage. But if Enid heard about it, she would be deeply offended.” Dropping the hat on the bed, she turned to face Elizabeth. “I shall be keeping a close watch on you, for your own sake. I only wish to protect you from yourself, Elizabeth. You are headstrong, and I will not stand by and see you ruin your chances of a good, secure life over the likes of Max Whittaker. He is going to be very poor, you know. Biting the hand that feeds him, foolish boy. He will rue the day he turned his back on poor Enid and Jules, and I will not have my daughter suffering along with him.”

“Oh, Mother,” Elizabeth said, “it should be
my
choice if I wish to suffer, not yours.”

Nola Farr laughed, the sound trilling through the room like music. “Darling, do listen to yourself. You do not know the first thing about suffering. Nor do you want to, I promise you that. You would not be good at it.” Her voice hardened suddenly. “I mean what I say, Elizabeth. I won’t stop you from seeing him, but I had better not come across a scene like the one I witnessed up on deck a few moments ago, do you understand me?”

She didn’t add, “If you disobey…,” but Elizabeth heard the threat implicit in her words. If you disobey, you have no chance of ever going to college.

Not that the chance was there, anyway. It probably wasn’t. Her mother seemed determined to see her daughter married to Alan Reed.

Do I really want to give up every chance I have, however small, for someone I hardly know? Elizabeth thought.

Max couldn’t be
that
interesting.

She made one last try. “That really isn’t fair, Mother. Max and I weren’t
doing
anything.”