Flowers on the Mersey (12 page)

Daniel became aware of the fog whistles at the same time as he noticed that Rebekah had gone. He swung her father round by the lapels of his coat and brought his fist back ready for the blow that he hoped would finish the fight. Then suddenly he saw, terrifyingly close, the prow of a ship looming up through the fog. ‘Holy Jesus!’ he whispered, crossing himself and taking a step back.

‘Ha!’ exclaimed Rebekah’s father triumphantly through swollen lips, and punched him with the last of his strength.

Daniel staggered back as the ship hit, lost his footing and went head over heels backwards. Momentarily he rested on his haunches, trying to get his breath back. Then he sprang to his feet as the other ship crunched its way through steel and wood along the side of the
Samson
towards him. He turned
and fled from its destructive path, down the nearest companionway. He had to find Rebekah! Thank the Holy Mother she had left! Her father … He didn’t want to think of that. Where they had fought was just a tangled mess.

The lights had gone out and doors were opening. There were shouts. A woman screamed. People were running along corridors in panic, fighting to get past him as he searched and called, went up and down corridors, feeling his way. He realised that what he was doing was crazy. He presumed that Becky had gone back to her cabin but didn’t know where that was exactly.

A light from a torch suddenly shone in his face, half blinding him. ‘Is that you Riley?’ The voice was incredulous.

‘Yes!’ He knocked down the torch with bloodied knuckles.

‘You look a mess. Not that it matters. Come with me!’

‘What?’

‘Yer wanted, mate! In the engine room! It’s flooding down there and there’s a boiler making a funny noise. They need your expertise.’

‘Hell!’ Daniel groaned, and clutched his hair. ‘I have to find someone.’

‘You won’t be finding anyone if you don’t come. That boiler could blow.’

Daniel took a deep breath and told himself to calm
down. The odds were that Becky was all right. There were a heck of a lot of people running around.

‘Well! Are you coming?’ demanded the mate, shining the torch into his face again.

Daniel nodded and went with him.

For a long while Rebekah lay stunned, her thoughts incoherent. She was aware of a crushing weight on her right arm. Then there was a babble of voices outside along the passageway, hurrying footsteps and the sound of rushing water.

Fear was blighting her courage and it took several deep flurried breaths to calm her nerves and enable her to try and move her legs. At least they seem uninjured. She tried freeing her arm but the pain was excruciating and caused sickness and dizziness. Dear God, was she going to die? No, please! What had happened to Mama! She called to her mother but there was no answer.

Lifting her head she stared in the direction where she had last seen her mother and slowly, as her eyes became accustomed to the dark, could just make out the shambles that was her parents’ bunk. She did not want to believe that her mother could not have survived. It was a nightmare. What about Daniel? What had happened? She must get out of here.

She screamed and carried on yelling for help until at last someone did come. The door was forced open
and two men came in. One picked her out by torchlight and came over to her.

‘You all right, luv?’

She laughed weakly. ‘Oh, yes. I’m just lying here for the good of my health.’

‘Glad you’ve still got your sense of humour.’ He turned to his companion who had gone over to the other bunk and was trying to prise it away from the wall. ‘Give us a hand here, vicar.’

The parson delayed several moments and could be heard praying. Then he came over, still in his pyjamas. Rebekah cleared her throat as the two men began to lift the weight from her. ‘Mama’s all right, isn’t she?’

‘Sorry, my dear.’ The parson’s hand was gentle on her cheek. ‘It must have been almost instantaneous if that is of any comfort to you.’

She did not answer but a sob swelled her throat and tears blurred her vision. A few moments later she was free and one of the men was saying that her arm was broken. The parson was wrapping her in a blanket. The other man lifted her and she recognised him as their steward. ‘I have a friend. He’s an engineer. Da – no, Peter Riley,’ she croaked. ‘He’s one of the engineers. He was with my father.’

‘The engine rooms are flooding but they’re getting it under control,’ the steward answered. ‘He should be all right. Ain’t seen no sign of your father, though, miss. But that’s not surprising, the panic everyone’s in with the dark and all.’

She closed her eyes briefly, pressing down
her
panic, and said huskily as he helped her up, ‘What happened?’

‘This other ship came out of the fog and hit us. It’s ripped this side open, but there’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re in no immediate danger.’ His voice sought to soothe.

‘No. I’ve got nothing to worry about.’ she whispered before bursting into tears. He patted her shoulder and the parson told her that she would be all right. They would see that she was taken care of.

The passenger alleyways were still in darkness. ‘Why aren’t the lights on?’ she stuttered.

‘Water’s short-circuited the dynamos,’ said the steward cheerfully, flashing his torch. ‘We’ll take you on top. Don’t worry.’

She wished he would stop telling her not to worry. What was happening to Daniel? Where was her father?

The decks were crowded with people in various states of dress. Some were crying. One man sat calmly playing solitaire, sitting on a lifebelt. An elderly woman was putting up her hair. It was still foggy and the ship’s whistles played a mournful tune. The doctor came and put her arm in splints and a sling; gave her a couple of tablets. She asked him about the water coming into the engine rooms and he said he knew nothing about it. She looked round for a sign of someone she recognised and a few feet away saw
a white-faced Brigid with a blood-stained bandage tied round her bright hair.

Rebekah struggled to her feet and stumbled
light-headed
over to her friend. She slumped down next to her and put her free hand through Brigid’s. ‘Mama’s dead and Papa’s missing.’ She barely recognised her own voice. ‘Are you badly hurt?’ Brigid shook her head. ‘Keith?’ asked Rebekah. There was no answer but the Liverpudlian’s eyes were filled with tears.

‘Oh God,’ whispered Rebekah, and gently drew Brigid’s head down on to her shoulder.

She did not know how long they sat there while the deck started to empty. Mr Eaton came up to them. ‘Miss Rhoades, will you and the other lady come with me, please? We want to get you off the ship.’

She stared up at him in a daze. ‘Off the ship?’

‘Yes. It’s sinking. But you don’t have to worry,’ he said quickly. ‘It’ll take some time and the wireless operator’s wired for help. There are several ships on the way. It shouldn’t be long before you’re picked up.’

Rebekah nodded and took a deep breath. ‘Daniel O’Neill … no, Peter Riley! He’s one of your engineers. Is he down in the engine room?’

His smile fixed, he said reassuringly, ‘Yes, he is. It’s a bit fraught down there with the pumps being worked overtime, but I don’t think any of them are in danger. There was a bad moment I believe when the
boiler could have blown, but Riley managed to turn some valve or other and prevented it happening.’ He hesitated. ‘He said when I found you – that he’s sorry, but your father didn’t see the ship coming. I presume—’

‘He knows I’m all right?’ Rebekah whispered.

He moved his shoulders in a gesture that revealed his discomfort. ‘Not yet.’ He offered her his arm and she accepted it with gratitude.

‘What happened to the other ship?’ she stammered.

‘What?’ He seemed distracted but answered, ‘She drifted off, but we’ve had a message from her. Her bow’s badly damaged but she’ll keep afloat.’

‘Was there anybody hurt?’

‘Several of the crew were killed.’ He hesitated. ‘I’m sorry about your parents.’

‘Thank you,’ she said woodenly. They both fell silent.

It was no simple task getting on her lifebelt. Neither was it easy or pleasant having to climb down the ladder into a small bobbing boat.

Rebekah and Brigid cuddled up to each other because it was freezing cold. The fog lifted a little, and although their boat had been rowed away from the
Samson
they could still see the great rip in her side. She was listing badly to port and Rebekah felt taut with apprehension. It began to rain.

People moaned and groaned, and Rebekah felt
she had never felt so miserable in the whole of her life. Time passed slowly and pictures from her childhood drifted through her mind. It occurred to her that now her father was dead, he could not stop her seeing Daniel. She tried to draw comfort from the thought even as she wept.

It grew lighter, and although there was no sign of the sun, several people said they felt better. After what seemed hours someone said the crew had begun to leave the ship. That it could not be long before the
Samson
went down. An exhausted and soaked Rebekah peered through the rain, trying to make out the faces of the figures climbing into the boats. Water was washing the ship’s decks and some of the men jumped into the sea. A cheer went up suddenly, and the sound of the ship’s whistle and siren were heard. Distracted, she turned and saw a steamer looming up through the downpour. When next she looked at the
Samson
there were only two figures clinging to her rigging. She presumed one of them was the captain. The next moment they were in the water – had gone under – came up. Under – up. They were swimming for the nearest lifeboat. There was a great cracking and a gurgling sound as the
Samson
sank, and for a while the sea was a great churning mass.

Brigid sobbed, clinging to Rebekah, who clung to her just as desperately. Had Daniel got off? How could she find out? Dear God, please let him be safe. 

Within half an hour they were taken aboard the S.S.
Reliant
and wrapped in rough warm blankets. Rebekah’s teeth chattered so much against the rim of the cup of hot sweet tea that she spilt it. Her head felt as if it was splitting and her throat felt raw. She fought to keep burning eyes open for sign of Daniel. Then she saw Shaun.

Three times she had to call his name before he showed any sign of hearing her. Then he sauntered over, cup in hand, blanket about his shoulders. Close up, she could see the strain in his face.

‘Is Daniel all right?’ she stammered.

He scowled. ‘Didn’t you see him in the water?’

‘No.’ She felt as if her heart was being squeezed and she feared his answer. ‘He was rescued?’

There was a pause. ‘If he was, I didn’t see it,’ said Shaun with a tight smile. ‘He could be drowned. All I do know is that he’s not on this ship.’ Without another word he turned and walked away.

Rebekah stared after him. She felt as if
she
was drowning in a sea of misery, pain and discomfort. It couldn’t be true! It just couldn’t be true! He was meant for her. God couldn’t take him away. That wasn’t fair. She loved him, needed him, wanted him above anything else in the world. She would die without him.

‘I don’t know if I can bear it.’ Brigid’s voice was low. ‘Keith, your parents, Daniel. I think I’ll kill myself.’

‘Don’t say that!’ Rebekah eased her throat and
attempted a smile. ‘I think I’m going to die anyway.’

A corner of Brigid’s mouth lifted wearily. ‘I won’t kill myself if you don’t die on me.’

‘Is that a promise?’ A cough was tickling her throat.

‘Cross my heart,’ Brigid’s voice wobbled.

‘Right. That’s it,’ murmured Rebekah. ‘We stay together.’

Brigid nodded and the pair of them sat on, sipping their tea with the tears dripping into the cooling liquid.

A doctor came and spoke kindly to them. He examined their injuries and told Rebekah to follow him. Brigid went with her.

Rebekah watched as he sprinkled plaster on strips of bandage then dipped them in water before wrapping it around her broken arm. She was a mass of aches and her throat and head felt worse. Her heart felt like a lump of stone. After the plaster set they were taken to a cabin and given warm clean nightwear, a hot milky drink and some tablets.

The last memory in Rebekah’s mind before the tablets took effect was of Daniel saying, ‘I love you, Becky.’ Then it was overlaid by the grey
rain-splattered
scene of men struggling in the water while Shaun’s words ran through her head.

Rebekah woke in a small room to a conversation going on in the distance. Her head turned on the
smooth cool pillow and for the first time in what seemed forever there was no pain in her chest or her head. Where exactly was she? Who was talking? The memory of her arrival was hazy but she did remember that she had seen Brigid since coming here. Was that her she could hear talking? She tried to call her friend’s name but her voice was only a whimper.

There was a glass of water on the cabinet by the bed but it was an enormous effort to hold it, and then another to lift it to her lips as she sagged across the bed, her broken arm held awkwardly against her chest. She sipped slowly. That was better. She cleared her throat. ‘Brigid’. The voices stopped abruptly and there was the sound of heavy footsteps and lighter hurrying ones moving towards the door.

Rebekah squinted at the door, trying to recall who had brought her to this clean blue-painted room. One of the voices had said something about nearly dying. Were they talking about her? She had been having terrible dark dreams. Daniel and water … the ship … Mama and Papa! It was as if there was a blizzard in her head. A moan issued from her lips and her face turned into the pillow.

The door opened. Rebekah’s wet cheek rubbed against the white cotton before she twisted to see who had entered.

‘How are you, Miss Rhoades?’

She made no answer, staring at the man. He was familiar but she could not place him.

‘Becky, Mr Green says he wants to take you back to England.’

‘Who? What?’ Rebekah’s gazed shifted to Brigid’s pale thin face.