Forget Me Not (8 page)

“Under a bench – Bea must have dropped him while we were dancing. By the looks of him, he’s been trampled.”

I brushed Teddy down and pushed him into shape. “Thank you.” I smiled at Hugh and walked to the door that Mr Dunford had taken Bea through. “Excuse me, Evelyn?” I called. “I have Bea’s Teddy.”

Evelyn popped out of the second doorway down a corridor. “Well done, Eve, that will help soothe her.”

I handed over the bear. “How is she?”

“Fine. Your quick actions made all the difference.” Evelyn patted my hand. “Why don’t you find your parents while we settle her?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to leave.”

“The danger has passed, Eve. Go find your parents, and I’ll make sure there is a pot of tea waiting for you all when you return.”

Tears prickled my eyes. “Thank you. For helping.”

Evelyn smiled. “My pleasure.”

Again, when I returned to the hospital’s front room, Hugh had gone. What could have dragged him away this time?

As if to answer my question, Father rushed inside. “Where is Bea?” he asked, eyes wide.

“With Dr Simpson and Miss Marsden,” I said. “I was just coming to find you and Mother.”

“Hugh found us. Thomas has gone to the library to fetch your mother.”

My heart plummeted like a tern dropping to the ocean. Mother would be furious. Worse than furious.

“What happened?” Though Father’s voice was calm, I could tell by his furrowed brow he was concerned.

I wasn’t with her. I was dancing with a stranger while Bea was with Hugh. “I took her to the poop deck to the see the dogs–”

“Mr Gilmore, Bea and I were dancing,” said Hugh.

I hadn’t noticed Hugh’s return.

“You took Bea dancing?” Mother screeched from behind him. Her face was white and twisted. “How could you let this happen, Eve?”

I hung my head.

“Alice, there is nothing to be gained from yelling,” said Father.

“But she took Bea dancing. Dancing with Bea’s delicate health.”

“Mrs Gilmore,” said Hugh, “it’s my fault, not Eve’s. I danced with Bea, though I was holding her. She dropped her teddy. Eve acted with such speed–”

“This is a family matter. Leave.” Mother’s voice was like a stray dog’s growl.

From under my lashes, I sneaked a look at Hugh. He stood straight and tall. “Of course. I hope Bea is feeling better.” He nodded to Father and left.

Mother glared, her eyes cold. “Where did this dancing take place?”

“On the poop deck,” I said to the floor. “Irishmen were–”

“You danced with the steerage passengers?” She said “steerage” as though she was spitting out sour fruit. “Those people are …” Her mouth twisted as she searched for the word. “… diseased.”

“I heard they underwent health checks before boarding,” I said, head raised. “There’s probably more danger to Bea in first class.”

Mother stepped forwards, her hand raised. For a moment I thought she was going to strike me.

“Alice,” said Father, grasping her forearm.

“You are a disgrace.” She pointed her finger at me. “I am ashamed of you.”

“Alice!” thundered Father. “You go too far.”

“Not far enough,” she hissed. “Bea could die.”

“Miss Marsden said the danger has passed.”

I quailed under Mother’s glare.

“Go to the cabin immediately. You will stay there until we arrive in New York.”

A bitter taste filled my mouth. I gathered myself, determined not to let her see how much her words had stung. “As you wish.” I stormed out of the hospital.

The minute I was alone in the cabin, I buried my face in my hands and cried. I didn’t mean for Bea to become sick, I just wanted to have fun. To feel free.

Saturday, April 13, 1912
DAY FOUR

For the first time Thomas noticed the noises that filled the dining room – morning chatter, the chink of china and the rustle of clothes as the stewards bustled around the room. He hadn’t noticed the sounds before due to his family’s usual conversation. But today the Gilmores ate breakfast in silence.

Thomas glanced at Eve, who he hadn’t seen since Mother banished her to the cabin the previous afternoon. Eve would still be there if Father hadn’t insisted she be allowed out. Thomas could only imagine the lectures Mother had inflicted on her last night and this morning.

Eve’s eyes were red and her hands shaky. She poked the fried eggs and ham with her fork.

“Don’t play with your food, Evelyn,” said Mother. She fussed over a pale Bea who was back to her chirpy self.

Last night, in their cabin, Father had told Thomas that Bea had simply become overwrought when she lost Teddy. Dr Simpson said dancing on the poop deck with Hugh had done nothing to harm her.

Eve cut her ham into tiny squares.

“Evelyn,” snapped Mother, drowning out the sounds around them.

“Alice–”

Mother turned on Father. “Don’t defend her. She has behaved in a depraved manner.”

Thomas couldn’t remain silent another moment. “Depraved? She was looking after Bea, Mother, on your orders.”

“How dare you,” Mother gasped. “Evelyn acted–”

“Acted quickly and sought immediate attention. You should be praising her, not punishing her.” Thomas hadn’t spoken to his mother in such a harsh manner before.

“And how would you know?”

“Hugh told me. He said Eve knew exactly what to do, and that she had Bea to the hospital in less than a minute.” Hugh hadn’t said that last bit, but last night while they were exploring the squash courts he had told Thomas that Eve had been calm and acted with speed.

Mother glowered. “Edward. Reprimand Thomas for his rudeness.”

“Thomas is correct, Alice,” said Father. “It wasn’t Eve’s fault Bea became ill. I am proud of Eve’s sensible and quick response. However,” his voice deepened, “Eve, in future, I expect you to confine your exploring to the second-class areas of the ship.”

Eve hung her head. “Yes, Father. I’m sorry, Father.”

“And, you are both forbidden to mix with those brazen Americans,” said Mother, her voice an angry hiss. “They are nothing but trouble.”

“Forbidden?” The volume of Thomas’s voice made Bea and Eve jump.

“That’s correct.” Mother glared at Father, daring him to say otherwise. He remained quiet.

Mother sat straighter in her chair. “And that is my final word on the matter.”

Thomas’s teeth grinded against each other. Under the table he sought out Eve’s leg and tapped her shin with his foot. She didn’t look up, but Father did. He raised his eyebrows. Thomas lowered his gaze.

“May I pay a visit to the hospital, Mother?” Eve’s voice was a whisper. “I’d like to thank Miss Marsden and Dr Simpson for their help yesterday.”

“Splendid idea, Eve,” said Father. “Of course you may go.”

Mother fidgeted in her seat, her lips pressed together.

Eve stood and left the dining room.

Thomas watched her go, wishing he could find a way to bring back the bright and brave Eve.

I have your album in which to write
I’ve turned to a leaf that’s pure and white
I dip my pen into the ink
I knit my brow and try to think
I think, I think, I think in vain
At last I think I’ll sign my name
.
Miss Margaret “Meggie” Worthington,
RMS
Titanic
, 11/04/1912

Outside the dining room I sighed with relief and shook my body as though I was a wet dog. I imagined all Mother’s harsh words flying from me like water drops.

Yesterday, after Mother had banished me to the cabin, I’d cried until I had no more tears, then changed into my night attire. By the time Mother returned, huffing and puffing, slamming doors and drawers, I was in my bunk, pretending to sleep. She didn’t attempt to wake me for dinner, for which I was grateful as I didn’t want to eat and I certainly didn’t want to face her. Later that night when Mother tucked Bea into bed and ordered her to sleep, I wondered what it would be like to have a mother who sang soothing lullabies.

When I did sleep I had more disturbing dreams about boats. This time Bea’s teddy bobbed on the ocean out of reach, then Mother appeared, her face growing larger and larger until it loomed over me like the
Titanic
’s funnels. I woke to Mother shaking my shoulder, and from that moment she started.

Depraved. Brazen. Disgrace. Embarrassment. Disgusting.

What would she say if she knew I had been dancing with a stranger when Bea fell ill, and not just any stranger, but a
steerage
stranger?

Just when I felt sure I would either lash out at Mother or burst like a soap bubble, Father knocked on the cabin door. The sight of his face was such a relief, I had to force myself to remain calm. He insisted I be allowed out to eat breakfast, and that I not be confined for the rest of the journey, which made my legs go sludgy with gratitude. Father is such a dear man. Wherever would I be without him?

Outside the
Titanic
’s hospital door, I straightened my blouse and hair before knocking and entering.

Evelyn was sorting through bottles in a cupboard behind the desk. She smiled when she turned. “Eve, how lovely. How is Bea today?”

“She is much better, thank you.” I clasped my hands in front of me.

“I made you tea yesterday, but you had gone.”

“I’m sorry.” I hung my head. “Mother sent me to our cabin.” I pressed my thumbs against each other and looked back up at her. “Evelyn, thank you for your help.”

She placed a glass stopper into a bottle and sat on the edge of the table. “Why, it was a pleasure, Eve. Your mother should be very proud of your quick thinking.”

I looked down, tears blurring my vision.

“What a relief it was that your friend found Bea’s teddy. That made all the difference to her.”

“Hmmm,” I said, unable to meet her gaze.

“I was about to make a cup of tea. Will you join me?”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose.”

“I insist.” Evelyn led the way down the hospital corridor. While she made tea, she chatted about her adventures as a ship’s nurse. “Truly, Eve, I meet the most amazing people. Milk? Sugar?”

“Just milk, thank you.”

Evelyn placed a cup marked with the White Star Line logo in front of me.

“Are you feeling more comfortable on the
Titanic
now?” Evelyn watched me over the top of her raised cup.

In truth, that feeling of dread had all but disappeared yesterday, but today, after Bea’s illness, Mother’s fury and last night’s dream, it again simmered beneath my skin. I traced the edge of the saucer with my finger. “I suppose I’ve been too busy to dwell on it.”

Evelyn smiled. “Too busy exploring the ship with that handsome friend of yours.”

I felt myself blush. “And with his sister, Meggie, and my brother, Thomas.” I stared at the saucer. “Yesterday Hugh danced with Bea on the poop deck, for fun …”

“It’s difficult to stay still when you hear an Irish jig.”

“I wish Mother understood that.”

Evelyn placed her cup down. “I’m sure she does.”

“I doubt she’s ever done anything fun and frivolous.” My face felt hot. “Evelyn, forgive me, I shouldn’t speak about my mother in such a way. It’s just … she blames me for Bea becoming ill.”

“Eve, your mother is proud of how you acted yesterday, she just can’t show it.” Evelyn leaned forwards and patted my hand. “I have a feeling your mother has suffered much sadness.”

Mother’s words yesterday about losing another child rushed back to me. I lifted my head. “I think you might be right.” I wondered if I should go any further. “Mother said something strange yesterday about not losing another child …” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I see,” said Evelyn, sitting back in the chair.

I wished I could. I sipped my tea, savouring its warmth.

“Perhaps the child had lung problems like Bea.”

It was as though curtains had been drawn back in a darkened room, allowing the sunlight to pour inside. Mother’s moods and worries all made sense. No wonder she was so frantic about Bea.

“I would suggest she is just as fearful for you and your brother as she is for Bea.”

I stared at the teapot on the table in front of me until it blurred.

Evelyn poured more tea into my cup, then hers. “So, Eve, a nurse. After watching you yesterday, I’m convinced you’re well suited to the profession.”

“Really?” I said.

“Definitely. Finish your tea and you can help me around here for a while.”

“Thank you, Evelyn. For everything.”

She patted my hand.

Though the late afternoon was still, the air was chilly. Thomas held Bea close to his chest. “Are you sure you are warm enough, Bea?”

Bea glared. Her brown eyes were the only part of her face visible after Mother had wrapped the scarf around her nose and mouth to “warm the air” she breathed. “I’m hot, if you must know,” Bea said, her voice muffled. “And you’re crushing me.”

“Better I crush you than Mother crushes us both,” said Thomas. “I wonder how far we are from ice?” He scanned the endless ocean.

“I think it’s still too warm for ice,” said Father. He had returned from a lap of the promenade with Mother. “I don’t expect we’ll encounter icebergs until we draw nearer the Newfoundland coast. Sometime tomorrow, perhaps.”

Mother shivered. “If that’s the case, you will be staying below deck, Bea.”

Bea moaned. “But I want to see icebergs.”

Mother had already turned away, her face all hard angles. “Where is Eve?”

Thomas stifled a groan. “She’s just there, Mother, watching the children on the poop deck.”

Before Mother could move to check, Eve walked around the corner accompanied by the nurse who had helped Bea the previous afternoon.

“Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Gilmore,” said the nurse, her smile warm. “How are you feeling today, Bea?”

“Better, thank you.” Bea pulled the scarf down from her face.

Mother pushed it back up. “Thank you for your assistance yesterday, Miss …”

“Marsden. Evelyn Marsden, and if it hadn’t been for Eve and her friend, Bea might not be so well. I hope you don’t mind that I detained Eve for so long this morning. She was an invaluable help around the hospital. She will make a wonderful nurse.”