Once We Were (8 page)

“
Well, I can't say that I didn't expect you to say that, but I would have you at least reconsider nullifying our contract. You will need legal guidance if things get heated in public.”

“
You know I have nothing against you, Mr. Spruce. You've served my father for years and are right good at what you do, but I won't change my mind,” Ioan informed him.

“
For your sake, I pray you do instead of throwing away your inheritance and good name. Of course, you're only thinking about what's in your head now. You're still a strong and capable man but what about your future? What happens when you retire from this sailor business? Is a measly officer's compensation going to satisfy all your needs? You won't be young forever. Your father may have been wrong in a list of things, but he was an excellent businessman. Of his assets he held a tea and coffee shop in Massachusetts, a beautiful rural estate in Wales, a luxurious invaluable Victorian house here in New York, not to mention the noted Artisan hotel, a slate mine, and a steel mill in Wales. They are all run by exceptionally skillful managers. All you have to do is sit back and reap the benefits.”

“
I've earned my own way around. I appreciate it more because I worked for it. In London, I couldn't get a bite to eat. I had nothing but dreams. They were accomplished without my father or his influence. I know I'm a lucky one. Sometimes it just doesn't happen. You may wander the streets forever without one break. Who's to say there's not some lad out there who could use a scrap to eat. My arse of a father's money would go to a better purpose. Imagine the children left after this tragedy. The orphanages and soup kitchens need it now more than I do.”

“
And what do you expect to do when you walk out here? Go back to Titanic?” Mr. Spruce questioned. “You risk your life at sea for what purpose? It's a complete waste of living.”

“
Yet, I'm happy. I'm not staying here in America. That's certain. I'll make my way back to Wales and catch another liner. Get back out to sea. That's all I need.”

“
And for a moment, the sea decided it didn't need a fool like you.”

“
It merely shaped this fool's forbearance.”

“
Of course it's all a game to you.”

“
I understand the financial pressure my decision puts on you, Mr. Spruce. You've served my family for so long. I'm sorry. I can't be who my father was. Nonetheless,  I'll be sure to write you a glowing recommendation,” Ioan told him.

A jubilant shrill echoed through the hall. Ioan glanced through the door to see Cora run into the arms of an aging man. He knew him only as Mr. Harlow, but he hardly recognized him. His face was frightfully exhausted compared to last he saw him. Mr. Harlow was the last person he expected to see in the hall, and frankly, he was the last person he
wanted
to see outside his door. Not that he had it in for Mr. Harlow. He thought him a good man and father, but his showing up at the hospital could only mean one thing. No doubt he saved every penny to get here and wouldn't leave without what he came for.

Mr. Spruce watched Ioan carefully. The young man was unaware that his fears escaped his eyes. “She's lovely, isn't she?” Mr. Spruce remarked.

“I'm sorry. I didn't hear you.”

“
The young lady, Cora. Her face is so elegantly structured that even Queen Victoria would admit to clumsy cheeks. Her chestnut waves artistically complement her green eyes. She does casts an alluring spell on the lighting in the room.”

“
You're a bit old to be talking about Miss Harlow that way,” Ioan said critically.

“
It's just a pity, you know. Her father wants to put a fathom between her and the sea, and you want to be as far into it as possible. How ill fated.”

“
It's not my business what Miss Harlow does,” Ioan commented. “She's playing a bad hand. She needs a good husband.”

“
And you need a good wife to buckle you down,” Spruce commented.

“
I'm a sailor. I can't compete with him, whoever he is.”

“
Because you were no competition to begin with, if only one rethinks throwing one's life away and accepts responsibility. You were born a gentleman. Not a sailor begging to make a living for himself. Privilege is in your blood. If you want her, that girl is yours.”

“
It's not right to bung the things I want.”

“
Then you'll never have her.”

“
Then I won't have her. I will not be like my father.”

“
You don't have to be your father. I doubt you ever will. However, a heavy pocket is not so burdensome a thing to have. Even an honest man won't tell you different. It is the key to luxury.”

“
If I were a material man.”

“
Every man has his prize.”

Ioan watched Cora dry her eyes with a handkerchief as she whispered things to her father. “There's some rule, isn't there?” he asked. “She can't follow me back into your society even if she did marry me. Why would you  suggest it?”

“We call it compromise,” Mr. Spruce said. “You stay in America and assume your father's legacy, and I look the other way when she takes on your name. Think on it, Mr. Saier. I shall return with the car in the morning.”

*
              *              *

“Look here please,” the doctor instructed as he inspected Ioan's eyes. “Follow my finger, here and there. Very good. You're looking better, Mr. Saier. Do you have any questions? Any complaints?”

“
No, sir.”

“
You're eyes are a little bloodshot,” the doctor said. “Is that due to the insomnia Miss Harlow told me about?”

“
Women find fault in everything.”

“
She's deeply concerned. You can't blame her for having motherly instinct. I promised her I'd look into it. Any pain while sleeping?”

“
No.”

“
Trouble breathing?”

“
No.”

“
Night sweats.”

“
No. Clearly, I'm alright.”

“
What about nightmares?”

“
I'm not a child.”

“
It's quite normal in grown folks. After such catastrophes, patients may suffer relapse memories. They are usually fueled by stress and panic. Considering what you've gone through, I wouldn't doubt it.”

“
You think I'm loopy?”

“
Possibly shell-shocked. It's usually only temporary until you've made amends and moved on. We should accept that we grieve and are affected. We're human, after all.”

“
Sometimes ships go down,” Ioan told him. “It's part of the business.”

“
I don't mean to offend you, Mr. Saier. I'm just taking precaution. Under tension, our minds play tricks on us and we make rash decisions. The consequences can be devastating.”

“
I assure you, doctor. I am of sound mind.”

“
Good. Nonetheless, if the insomnia should continue, I recommend valerian root tea. I will also give you something for your nerves.”

“
I'll need it if Miss Harlow keeps diagnosing me. Where is she?” Ioan asked.

“
I haven't seen her since this morning. She asked me to see you off to Mr. Spruce if she wasn't around.”

Ioan's heart sank. No doubt Mr. Harlow finally convinced her to leave. She'd be in Massachusetts by now. Here he was waiting for he like an abandoned puppy.

“Just like her, isn't it?” he muttered. “No decency for goodbyes. ”

“
I'm sure she'll be along,” the doctor assured him. “Your representative, Mr. Spruce, arrived five minutes ago. Keep your head low. Don't answer any questions. You don't owe anyone an explanation. You have your right to privacy like any other passenger.”

Privacy was beyond request.  The crowd waiting outside in the rain demanded  crucifixion. Journalists took notes, interviewing families who cradled pictures of third class fathers, husbands, brothers, and children lost to sea. Ioan met a woman's tearful eyes through the window. Her gaze singed him in hatred and damnation. The door opened and the mob swamped inside.

“Ioan Saier, is it true you served as an officer in training on the maiden voyage of Titanic?”

“
My patient will not be answering any questions at this time!” the doctor guarded his dependent.

“
Tell us what happened the night of the sinking! Did you see the iceberg?”

“
Is it true Titanic's crew knew about the approaching ice field but still chose to charge across the Atlantic in order to make headlines, causing the death of so many souls aboard?”

“
Why won't White Star Line give us an official report about this tragedy? Are they hiding something?”

“
What have you to say about White Star Line's refusal to reimburse all of the losses suffered by Titanic patrons? How is the company dealing with the ongoing threat of legal proceedings?”

Ioan stood frozen and dumfound. He wanted to say something to the women and children. Their relentless hatred left him motionless. He could say nothing.

“Has White Star Line paid you for your silence?”

“
My patient deserves his right to silence as any other survivor! He merits the respect due to all after this tragedy!” the doctor bellowed.

“
What about the rights and respect of the hundreds of third class passengers left to drown in the hull of the ship?” someone demanded. “Is it true the officers ordered the stewards to lock the gates so third class passengers could not make their way up to the lifeboats? Is it true the boats were reserved for first class passengers only?”

“
Many are calling White Star Line and the crew aboard murderers for ignoring danger signs and handling the situation like unwittingly. Is it true that more than half of the lifeboats were not filled to capacity? What have you to say of these accusations, Mr. Saier?”

“
Murderers?” Ioan growled. Blood throbbed fiercely in his ears. “I can't speak for a lot of things, but I will not have you tarnish the gallantry of those officers and crew who are not with us. The men who stepped away from a lifeboat when it came time to save themselves. How many of
you
would have done the same? How many stood beside the band members, or the engineers, or the electricians, or the cooks, or the seamen, or the officers who were never recovered? This tragedy doesn't belong to one family. We all suffer. A woman didn't get her husband, and a girl will never see her father again because he did what was right in his last hour. Pain, loss, despair are indescribable. It hurts like hell to lose someone who means every measure of breath to you. Call it what you will. Whatever version you choose to believe, there is one truth that will always stand and those men demand your respect.”

A small boy shoved Ioan back. His chest heaved fiercely. “Murderers!” he shouted through tearful eyes. He spat at Ioan's shoes. His mother yanked him away. Pens scraped fiercely against notepads. No one used the wretched word again, but continued to smother Ioan for answers.

Cora brushed through the crowd. “Step aside!” she ordered. She stood guard in front of Ioan. Her eyes dared anyone to come close. “Stop this, all of you! This behavior is unacceptable toward any human being!”

“
Madam, are you a White Star Line representative?”

“
Are you his wife?”

“
Did you serve on the Titanic?”

“
What have you to say about this tragedy?”

“
Cora, I wish you hadn't got yourself into this,” Ioan said into her ear. She clasped his hand tightly in hers. “I'm here in your corner, Ioan.”

The car stopped behind the mob. Mr. Spruce charged out. “Out of my way! My client won't answer anymore of your questions!”

“I'm not leaving you here,” Ioan said to Cora. “Get in the car. I'll see you off to your father.” He made certain she was safely in the car before getting inside. Mr. Spruce turned crimson as he continued shouting down the crowd. He dived into the passenger seat. “Drive, Mr. Knightly. Get him far away from this place.”

“
I don't need to go far,” Cora said. “If you could leave me at the station, my father is waiting there.”

“
Mr. Spruce, I believe the station is that way,” Ioan informed him.

“
We'll get to it,” Mr. Spruce remarked. “We're just taking a little detour.”

“
We aren't going anywhere near it,” Ioan protested. “I won't keep Miss Harlow any longer.”

“
It won't take too long,” Mr. Spruce assured.

“
I'm actually quite refreshed, thank you,” she defended herself.