Forget Me Not (4 page)

“Hugh Worthington. I took work in my father’s law practice in Richmond, Virginia. This is my sister Meggie. We’re travelling back to America after holidaying in France.”

American, yet there was something else in his accent Thomas couldn’t place. “My family are moving to America to join my uncle in Charleston.”

“Truly? Father’s partner, Mr Dobson, moved to Charleston eighteen months ago. We visit him regularly and I’m to work with him next year,” said Hugh. “Charleston’s further south than Richmond so the climate is milder.”

“That’s the idea,” said Thomas, relieved to hear the climate described as mild.

“You’re fortunate,” said Meggie. “When we immigrated we didn’t know anyone in America.”

“You’re English?”

Meggie nodded. “From Manchester. You’ll love America. We do, don’t we, Hugh?”

“It’s a fine place.” He turned to face the ocean. “Isn’t this the smoothest vessel you have travelled on?”

Thomas didn’t like to admit it was the only ocean liner he’d been on. “Indeed.”

“Hard to imagine there’s a hive of activity downstairs keeping it so,’ said Hugh.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many stewards and sailors.”

“Gosh, if you think they’re busy, you should see the black gang.”

“They’re the stokers in the boiler room, shovelling coal,” added Meggie, as though understanding Thomas’s confusion. She screwed up her nose. “It’s loud and filthy down there. Hugh and I were there before breakfast.”

Thomas couldn’t hide his surprise that the two of them had ventured so far already.

“Haven’t you been to the orlop deck?” asked Hugh.

Heat spread up Thomas’s throat. He shifted in the deckchair. “Not as yet. I intend going later today.”

“I could take you now.”

“Thank you, Hugh, but I have to care for my sister.” Thomas gestured to where Bea skipped up and down the deck with her new friends.

“Oh,” said Hugh.

Why shouldn’t he explore? “Would you excuse me a moment?” Thomas walked to where his parents sat. “Mother, Father, may I go for a walk with my friends?”

Mother leaned around him to look at Meggie and Hugh. “Those two?”

“Yes. We’re going to …” Thomas wracked his brain for a place Mother wouldn’t object to him visiting. “… the barber shop.”

“What on earth for?”

“It’s also a souvenir shop. I should like to look for a token for Uncle Hubert, for when he meets us in New York.”

“Splendid idea,” said Father. “Tell us what you find.”

Mother glared at Father. “What about Bea? Your father and I were about to take the air on the upper deck.”

“Boat-deck,” corrected Father. “Eve must have finished her letter by now. We’ll ask her to look after Bea on the way.”

“Thomas, mind you do not leave until Eve arrives,” said Mother.

As Father and Mother walked to the stairs, a surge of excitement buzzed through Thomas. Bea would be fine alone only for a few seconds. He walked back to where Hugh and Meggie waited.

“Shall we?”

Friendship penned these lines
May virtue hold them dear
And memory often bring to mind
The friend that placed them here
.
Charlotte Rose, Southampton, 5/04/1912

11 April, 1912

My dearest Clara and Mary-Jane
,

It seems like an age since we parted on the docks at Southampton, not one day. Thank you for your generous gift. I will be sure to collect many signatures, though none will be as important as yours
.

So far life aboard the
Titanic
is rather dull. It all looks spectacular, but Mother won’t let us do much at all. How I’d love to explore the ship without her
.

Can you believe there is a swimming pool on board? And a gymnasium, Turkish baths and even squash courts? All for first-class passengers, so I suppose I shan’t be visiting them. But I would like to see them
.

Thomas and I met one of the musicians, an old chap with a huge moustache, and today I happened upon a most annoying boy, who has the most insolent green eyes. He is quite tall I suppose with dark, wavy hair, like Matthew Somerville’s, only darker. I hope I don’t come across him often, it would be far too vexing. I swear he is American. Perhaps Mrs Somerville is correct and Americans are uncouth
.

Father is his usual gregarious self and chats to anyone who will listen. Mother is even pricklier than she has been the last few months. Her ill temper makes me feel … oh, girls, I shall be honest. But you must promise not to tell a soul
.

I’m filled with the worst feeling – it’s like a black tar that clings to me. Everyone says this is the safest, most luxurious ship in the world, but something about it is extremely unsettling
.

Perhaps I’m just fearful for Bea. Whatever will happen to her if this move to America doesn’t improve her health? Or maybe Mother’s ill temper is rubbing off
on me. Whatever the cause, I feel simply dreadful
.

Yes, I can hear you both. I’m just fretting over leaving home and my friends. And you are correct, but it’s more than that
.

An American lady dressed in a linen shirt with lace trim has just bustled in here to “write a note before we reach Queenstown”. I can just hear Mrs Sommerville saying, “Why must Americans be so loud and confident?” Do you think I will become like them? Announcing every little thought to strangers?

Mother has arrived
.

I promise to write again the moment we dock in New York
.

Farewell for now, my dearest friends
,

Evelyn Alice Gilmore

Hugh led the way down the stairs from the second-class promenade to the saloon deck. “There are about six boiler rooms I think,” he said. “Not that we saw all of them.”

“Are the boiler rooms on the orlop deck?” asked Thomas, hoping it wasn’t a silly question.

“The orlop deck, at the very bottom of the ship,” said Meggie.

With each deck Meggie, Hugh and Thomas descended, the noise of the engines grew until it drummed against Thomas’s skull. In an area marked “crew only” the walls were metal and dotted with rivets. At the end of the corridor, Hugh pointed to a closed door, with what looked like a wheel for a handle.

Hugh cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “That will take us into the boiler room.” He spun the wheel handle. When he opened the door the roar of the engines and the hiss of steam rolled out. Hugh stepped onto what seemed to be a metal landing.

Thomas hesitated, but when Meggie stepped around him, he followed.

Thomas gasped. The room and the boilers were massive and dwarfed the men. One look at the coal and ash mingling with sweat staining the stokers’ faces and clothes, and Thomas understood why they were called the black gang. Most of the men shovelled coal from the floor into the furnaces, the insides of which glowed orange. As fast as the men fuelled the fires, more coal tumbled from chutes onto the floor. Other men pushed barrows and still more men poked long metal poles to stoke the flames.

“Oi, you lot,” shouted someone with a rough voice. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

Hugh tapped Thomas on the shoulder. “Time to go.” He sprinted out the boiler room door. Thomas and Meggie raced after him, not stopping until they reached a staircase.

“What shall we explore next?” asked Hugh. “The swimming pool on middle deck, or the gymnasium on boat-deck?”

As Thomas caught his breath, he realised the stairs were more ornate than those he had climbed earlier. Instead of just wood, the balustrade was made of iron too, and opposite it were two elevators. “Hugh, I think we are in first class.”

“So we are.” Hugh ran his hand over the handrail. “Isn’t this staircase spectacular? Shall we?” Hugh climbed the stairs.

This time Thomas didn’t hesitate to follow. Thanks to his daring new friend, he knew he was going to see every inch of the splendid
Titanic
.

Here’s to the train that runs on wheels
And never runs into danger
Here’s to the girl that’s true to one boy
And never goes out with a stranger
.
Queenie Dobson, Southampton, 6/04/1912

Mother stood over the writing desk. “Time you were done, Eve. Up to the promenade with you to care for Bea.”

“Why can’t Thomas do it?” I asked, folding my letter and placing it in the addressed envelope.

Mother glared.

Without another word, I walked from the library, only stopping to leave my letter with the steward to post.

Why did Bea have to be my problem? What if I had other things to do? On the promenade deck, frustration simmering beneath my skin, I searched for Bea and Thomas. Bea was squatting with the two girls she’d befriended the previous day, but Thomas was nowhere to be found. I slumped in a deckchair near the girls.

Bea rushed towards me, holding a doll with long lashes. “Evie, isn’t Nina’s doll beautiful?”

“Very,” I said, my voice flat. “Where’s Thomas?”

“He went for a walk with his friends. Come and meet Nina and Winnie.”

How could Thomas have made friends so soon? I heaved myself out of the chair and settled on the deck beside the girls. Mother’s voice flashed into my head, “An unseemly way for a lady to sit”, and I tucked my legs under my skirt. A woman wrapped in a coat, standing by the ship’s rail, smiled and nodded. I returned the greeting.

“That’s Nina’s Aunt Jessie,” said Bea.

While the girls chatted and played with their dolls, I watched the other passengers on the deck. Gentlemen played quoits, ladies rested in deckchairs with rugs over their legs. Couples strolled, the sea breeze lifting their hats. Before long, I needed to stretch. I went to the rail overlooking the deck at the stern of the ship, where children galloped like ponies and played jumping jacks.

“Aren’t the children enjoying the sea air?”

I jumped at the voice. A woman, wearing a cap and white apron over a black dress, stood beside me. She looked down at the galloping children. I wondered if she was a stewardess or was perhaps employed on the ship in some other way.

“Yes, they are,” I said.

“Are you travelling with family?” she asked.

“My parents, brother, sister and I are going to America. To live.” My voice cracked a little.

“A tricky business.” The stewardess’s accent was hard to place. “I left my family behind when I moved to England.”

My heart skipped. Leaving your family would be worse than just leaving your home and friends. “Where do they live?”

“A very different country to England – Australia. South Australia to be exact, just north of Adelaide.”

“Do you miss your family and friends?” As soon as I uttered the words, I regretted it. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

“Not at all,” said the stewardess. “I miss them very much, but I have made wonderful new friends. You will too.”

Something about this stewardess made me feel at ease. She extended her hand. “My name is Evelyn Marsden.”

“Evelyn is my name too, though most people call me Eve.”

“Lovely to meet you, Eve,” said Miss Marsden. Her openness was soothing.

“Am I correct in thinking you are a stewardess, Miss Marsden?”

“Call me, Evelyn,” she said. “I
am
a stewardess and a nurse for first-class passengers.”

I glanced back at Bea playing with the girls. “Is there a nurse or a doctor for second class?”

Miss Marsden looked from me to Bea. “Is someone unwell?”

“My sister, Bea’s lungs are …” No one had ever explained or named her condition to me. All I knew was that the Southampton climate was bad for her. “We’re moving to America because Dr Browning said Bea’s lungs need a better climate.”

“If she’s at all ill on the journey, Eve, ask for me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“I insist. Any steward will know where to find me.”

For the first time since the
Titanic
sailed, the awful feeling of dread lifted. “Thank you, Evelyn. I appreciate it.”

“What is the book you’re holding, Eve?”

I’d forgotten about my autograph book. “My friends gave it to me before I boarded.”

“May I?” Evelyn took my book and leafed through the entries. “I’d love to add my signature, too, if that is suitable. Perhaps you could visit me at the ship’s hospital so I could sign it?”

“I’d like that,” I said. “Evelyn, may I ask, have you sailed before?”

“Oh, yes. On the
Olympic
, the
Titanic
’s sister ship. Not as impressive as this one, but a fine vessel just the same.”

“Do you believe what people are saying? That the
Titanic
is …” I could see the word “unsinkable” written in large print, but couldn’t say it.

“Eve, the
Titanic
is the grandest, safest ship ever to sail the ocean. It will carry you safely to your new life, which I know will be wonderful. Mark my words, one day you will be telling your children how you were among the first passengers who sailed on the finest vessel ever built.” Evelyn handed me the book. “I’ll look forward to seeing you later today.”

“It was lovely to make your acquaintance, Evelyn. Thank you.”

Evelyn had only just taken the stairs, when a wall of noise thundered towards me. Thomas! The sight of him laughing made me steam with anger.

I stormed over, intending to berate him for leaving Bea alone but when I recognised his companions, my words were swept away by the breeze. It was the boy from the tender, the one I had crashed into at breakfast, and his sister. My face felt hot. I stood as though glued to the deck.

“Eve, there you are,” said Thomas, oblivious to my feelings. “Let me introduce my friends, Hugh and Meggie Worthington. This is my sister, Eve.”

“Miss Gilmore. We’ve met.”

“I remember,” I said. “Hello, Meggie.” I wondered if my face had turned as red as it felt.

“How did you meet?” asked Thomas, looking from me to Hugh.

“I bumped into your sister at breakfast,” said Hugh. “Again, my apologies, Miss Gilmore.”

“If I recall, I collided with you.” I would not allow him to make me feel silly. Again.