Titanic: The Long Night (18 page)

“Where have you been?” Max demanded, rushing over to Elizabeth. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I wanted to see what was going on,” Elizabeth told Max. She glanced around for some sign of her parents, but didn’t see them. “I guess an iceberg bumped up against us or something. There’s ice everywhere outside. Why were you looking for me? I thought you were mad. Have you seen my parents?”

“It was an iceberg, all right. But I’m not so sure it just bumped us,” Max said tersely, taking her elbow to lead her down the stairs to C deck. “I think something’s going on. On my way here, I saw the captain talking to Ismay, the fellow from the White Star Line. They both looked upset. Something has to be up, but no one’s saying anything yet.”

Elizabeth’s heart pounded suddenly with dread. Max wouldn’t be worried for no reason.

They hurried down the stairs to Elizabeth’s cabin. Many of the people passing them in the opposite direction were dressed in the same bizarre fashion as those they’d seen on B deck. Elizabeth passed two women wearing peach or pink nightgowns under fur stoles. Both had taken the time to don multiple golden chains and necklaces. The jewelry jangled as they made their way up the stairs.

No one seemed unduly alarmed. Elizabeth overheard a woman complain mildly, “Well, it seems an odd time of night to have a lifeboat drill, if you ask me. I was just getting to sleep.”

Elizabeth gasped at the idea of a drill. She glanced over at Max. “A lifeboat drill? Do you think that’s what’s going on?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe your parents know something.”

It became clear the minute Elizabeth opened the door to her parents’ cabin that they did indeed know something. Her father was assisting her mother in donning a white life vest, a cumbersome arrangement that involved straps about the waist. He was already wearing his. They had changed out of their evening wear into warm wool garments. Elizabeth’s mother said frantically, “I wondered where you were. You must change your clothes quickly, Elizabeth. Put on something warm. The suit that matches that cape would be best, I think. And then you must put on your life vest. Quickly.” Her tone of voice was anxious, the expression on her face strained.

“And you, young man,” Martin Farr addressed Max, “would be well-advised to hurry to your cabin and put on your own vest. We don’t have an extra one here. We have all been ordered up to the boat deck. Quickly, now! I don’t want to have to tell your parents you disobeyed the captain’s instructions.”

Max nodded, looking thoughtful. “Be right back,” he told Elizabeth, and left.

When the door had closed after him, Elizabeth said to her parents, “We heard that it was only a lifeboat drill.” She heard the hope in her voice. Reaching out to take the vest her father handed her, she added, “We’ve had them on ships before, remember?”

“Never at this hour of night,” her mother answered grimly, and continued fastening her vest. Elizabeth noticed that her hands were shaking.

It was true that on other ships, lifeboat drills had taken place in mid-morning sunshine or perhaps early afternoon. “Maybe this captain,” she said, hoping to reassure her mother, “just wants to catch the passengers off-guard, as we would be in a real emergency.”

“I don’t believe this is just a drill,” her father said, though he said it calmly. “Do as your mother says. Go and change.”

Her heart fluttering anxiously, Elizabeth did so, wishing Max hadn’t left. His cabin was on D deck. If something really was amiss, he might not be able to get back to her. She wouldn’t know where he was or if he was all right.

Her earlier anger at Max was completely forgotten.

When she had changed into the gray wool suit and a pair of warm boots and taken a pair of black pigskin gloves from the bureau, she went to the large, square porthole and opened it. There was nothing outside that looked at all abnormal. The stars gleamed in a quiet sky of black velvet, the sea was calm, and she heard no cries of alarm. It is a drill, she told herself firmly, it is only a drill. Father is wrong. Max will come back, we’ll all go up to the boat deck, and when the boat drill is finished, we’ll go to bed and the ship will be on its way again.

She was unable to manage the life vest alone and returned to her parents’ cabin for assistance. Her mother’s face was pale. Elizabeth felt a deep pang of sympathy. Why wasn’t her father reassuring her mother?

A deep sense of unease seized her. If there was nothing to worry about, her father would be saying so. He knew his wife often worried about trivial things, exaggerating them until they became monumental in her mind. “Making a mountain out of a molehill,” he called it. And he knew exactly how to calm her down. There had to be a reason why he wasn’t doing that now.

Elizabeth’s hands felt clammy and cold.

While her mother adjusted her wide-brimmed black hat in the dresser mirror, Elizabeth asked her father in a low voice, “Have you heard something, Father?”

“We have hit an iceberg, my dear.” His voice was as quiet as hers. “Or perhaps I should say it has hit us. Captain Smith himself informed me. But I’m sure they’ll repair the problem quickly. In the meantime, we must follow instructions.”

Elizabeth was stunned. The iceberg had
hit
them? It hadn’t just brushed by, leaving shavings on the decks? What kind of problem was it that required “repairs?? And how could her father be sure the damage, if there truly was any, could even
be
repaired?

If Max didn’t return soon, they would have to go up to the boat deck without him. She didn’t want to. If all of the passengers were up there, as her father had said they’d been instructed, she would never find Max in such a large crowd.

What was taking him so long?

In her third-class cabin in the stern, Katie sat quietly for fifteen minutes or so, waiting for Eileen to return. When she didn’t, Katie wasn’t sure what to do. Out in the corridor, she heard someone open a cabin door and ask a steward what was happening. “Not to worry, Mum,” came the reply. “There’s no danger. We’ll be gettin’ on soon.”

But when Katie stepped out into the hallway, she found many of the third-class passengers heading for the open deck. Men, women, and children, all carrying boxes and packages and worn suitcases.

“Where are you goin’, then?” Katie called. At first no one answered. But then Mrs. Toomey, with whom Katie had chatted at dinner, passed by with her three young ones in tow, and called out, “You’d best be gettin’ on up above, Katie. We’ve hit somethin’, and the ship is ailin’!”

When the crowd had passed, the hallway fell silent again.

Katie went back inside, her stomach churning with fear. The great ship
Titanic
had hit something? How could that be? What was there to hit on such a vast, empty sea? It couldn’t be true. Why hadn’t Brian and Paddy come for her? They would know what was going on. They could tell her.

And if Eileen ever came back, she’d be given a piece of Kathleen Hanrahan’s mind, that was for certain! Shame on her, runnin’ off like that, leavin’ the two wee ones behind.

Uncertain of what to do, and fighting unsuccessfully the fear that had overtaken her, Katie sank down on a berth beside the sleeping Bridey to wait, although she wasn’t at all sure what she was waiting for.

To Elizabeth’s profound relief, Max returned just as Martin Farr was locking the cabin door behind them. “No point in having anything stolen while we’re above-decks,” he said as he turned the key.

“There’s talk we’ve hit an iceberg,” Max said. His life vest was on, and he was breathing fast, so Elizabeth knew he’d hurried to return to her. “Is it true, sir?”

“Never mind,” Elizabeth’s father said crisply, darting a concerned glance at his wife. “I’m sure Captain Smith knows how to deal with the problem. Let us just do as we’ve been asked for now. To the boat deck, then.”

They were climbing the stairs to B deck when Mrs. Farr, walking with her husband ahead of Max and Elizabeth, stopped suddenly. Her face had gone bone-white. Elizabeth heard her say in a whisper, “Martin, the stairs…”

He nodded, his expression sober, but said nothing. Taking her elbow, he urged her to continue climbing. Behind them, Elizabeth took a step up and understood what her mother meant. Her stomach rolled over, and she caught her breath in fear.

The stairs were no longer precisely level.

The difference was almost imperceptible, and had they been standing at the foot of the stairs looking up or at the top looking down, they would have noticed nothing out of the ordinary. But looking at something was very different from feeling, and now that she was
on
the stairs, Elizabeth could
feel
the slight slant, as if a giant hand beneath the ship was tipping it gently toward the bow, perhaps as a prank. “Oh, God, Max,” she murmured as they all began moving again, “something
is
wrong.”

He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Don’t forget, this ship is unsinkable. That’s precisely why my grandmother booked passage for me. Unsinkable. Keep that in mind, okay?”

Elizabeth felt a little better. If the people who had built this amazing ship had built it not to sink, then it wouldn’t, would it? They knew what they were doing. Building ships was their business.

But when they reached the boat deck, the first thing she saw was a group of people gathered around two of the lifeboats. The canvas cover was being peeled off one boat like the skin of an orange, while the other boat was being lowered until it hung level with the deck.

All of the comfort she’d taken in Max’s words evaporated like the little clouds of breath that hung in the air whenever anyone spoke on this coldest of all nights. Elizabeth already felt the chill, and was amazed to see passengers on deck still wearing nightclothes under their coats. Why had they not taken the time to don warmer clothing? Did they expect to return quickly to the warmth and safety of their own beds?

One woman, standing alone near the entrance holding what looked to be a giant wad of cotton in her arms that turned out to be a fluffy white dog, was in her stocking feet.

The sight of those unshod feet chilled Elizabeth further. Was the danger so imminent that the woman was afraid to take an extra moment to slip into a pair of shoes? What did she know that Elizabeth didn’t?

“Have you seen Lily or Arthur?” Max asked. He was still holding Elizabeth’s gloved hand. His own fingers were bare, and she felt a sudden flash of irritation that he hadn’t dressed more warmly. He should have listened more carefully to her father’s instructions.

“No.” Elizabeth glanced around. More and more passengers were arriving on the boat deck. The rapidly increasing crowd was quiet and orderly for the most part, though there were those who continued to joke and laugh among themselves. They were the people Elizabeth focused on, because watching them lifted her spirits. She wanted to believe, as they seemed to, that this was a lark. Nothing to worry about, nothing to take seriously.

But then why were the lifeboats being uncovered?

It wasn’t just the bitter cold that was chilling the blood in her veins. The thought of perhaps having to enter one of the lifeboats and leave the security of the huge, safe ship for that vast, black emptiness surrounding the
Titanic
was terrifying.

“I think,” her father said, turning toward Elizabeth and Max, “that what they intend to do is have us leave the ship just long enough for the repairs to be made. Then they’ll bring us back on board and we’ll be underway again.”

“Oh, Martin,” his wife complained, “I’m not going out there on that cold, dark sea while they fix the ship! Why can’t I just go back to our stateroom and lie down until they’re done? That seems much more sensible.”

“I don’t think they’ll allow that, dear. Perhaps they need everyone off the ship before they can make the repairs. Why don’t we just wait and see?”

The waiting was difficult. It was so cold on the boat deck, Elizabeth’s toes began to feel numb, in spite of her warm boots. The woman in the doorway was still there, still shoeless. How numb her toes must be by now! She wore a bewildered expression on her face. She clutched her dog to her chest as if the small ball of white fur might somehow save her from whatever was happening.

She looks, Elizabeth thought, the way I feel. Is that same expression on
my
face? Just a few short hours ago, the worst thing in my life was disagreeing with my parents and with Max. Now I would give anything just to go back to my stateroom and crawl into my nice, warm bed, with no bigger worry on my mind than whether or not Max would forgive me. Which he certainly seems to have done.

No one was mad at her anymore. It was as if the iceberg had swept away everyone’s anger at Elizabeth Farr as it brushed by the ship.

Below, Katie could wait no longer. It was far too quiet out in the hallway. Something was very amiss. A second noisy group of people had passed her cabin, and she had wanted to go along. But the children were still asleep, so she had stayed with them.

Why hadn’t Eileen come back? She wasn’t even dressed properly!

Katie was afraid that if she waited much longer for someone to tell her what to do, she and the two children would be left all alone. The thought was so frightening, it made her eyes water with unshed tears.

If there was something wrong, why hadn’t Brian or Paddy come for her?

You said you could take care of yourself, she scolded silently, remember? ’Tïsn’t that what you told Paddy whilst you were up on your high horse?

But she couldn’t take care of herself and two wee ones. Not without some help.

“Wake up, Bridey, Kevin!” she cried, tossing their coverlets aside and shaking them gently. “We’re goin’ up on top to see what’s happenin’. Hurry now, we’re goin’ to go find Eileen.”

Bridey cried the whole time Katie was dressing her in warm clothing.

Monday, April 15, 1912

Somehow, Katie managed to get the two sleepy, protesting children dressed in coats, caps, and gloves. She threw her own worn, dark coat on over her woolen navy blue dress, and was about to leave the cabin when a crewman dashed by, calling out, “Life preservers on, everyone, get your life preservers on!”