Shipbuilder (16 page)

She tilted a shoulder in a small shrug. "I'm afraid I hate to be told what to do. I always have to know the reason, and even then, if I don't agree with it, I don't always do it." Her eyes flicked to Sam for a moment. "This time I paid a steep price. I try to be more cautious, now."

"An odd definition of 'cautious,'" Tom murmured, but he patted her hand and turned back to Sam as they both laughed. "Please continue. You saw Casey next to the tree and then what happened?"

The technical explanation went on for a while. "Look," Sam told him finally, "you really need to have a degree in quantum physics to understand this. Not even Casey gets it and she has a lot more scientific knowledge than you do."

Tom and Casey moved to the parlor while Sam made tea, Tom still struggling to accept the idea of a future world interacting with his. "Tell me about your life," he asked Casey as they entered the parlor.

"My life?" She looked uncertain.

"In the future. Before you came here. What did you do? Who were your friends? How did you spend your time? What was the world like?"

"I was a student at Queens," she started explaining. "I went to classes, I studied, I took karate lessons. I shared an apartment with three other people who were also students. My friend, Colleen, was my roommate. We'd been roomies since freshman year; that's how we met." Casey smiled sadly. "She was so great. We laughed all the time. When I first moved to Belfast, I was so afraid I wouldn't make friends, but she was right there. She was… " She stopped and turned her head away, blinking back tears. "I keep wondering about her. What happened when I didn't come home that night? Do they have any idea where I am, what happened to me? She... she would have had to call my parents and tell them…"

Casey stopped talking altogether and Tom moved to her side, taking her hand, horrified at the scenario she described. "Stop. Casey, stop. I'm sorry." He rubbed her shoulder; somehow it felt natural to touch her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head in frustration. "I've just never really talked about it, Mr. Andrews. We haven't told anyone except Dr. Riley, and he didn't want to know anything." She looked at him, her expression haunted. "I try to forget that I'll never get back. I try to just live in this new life, but sometimes, it hits me. I really will never see any of them again. They'll never know what happened to me. That's…" she took a deep breath. "That's the hardest part."

He slipped his arm around her and pulled her to him, driven by a need to comfort her. He should not give in to it, he knew. With no chaperone, he shouldn't even be alone with her, but he wanted to hold her. He also wanted to know more, but that could wait for another time. "When you're ready to talk about it, you can always talk to me, Casey. But I don't want to upset you. I want to know all about it, but only when you feel up to it."

She nodded into his shoulder and stepped back, giving him a tentative smile. "You may find you regret that once I get started, but thank you."

Sam came in with the tea and Tom moved away from Casey, to sit in a safe chair. The conversation moved to more general topics. The question came up about "changing the past," but this was beyond Tom's patience. "You may think you are changing your past, but I don't see it that way. This is the future. That's all it is for me, for the other people who die, for this city. What happens in 1912 is wide open."

Sam wasn't sure. "Then did it happen at all? Has there been a 2006 yet, where the
Titanic
sinking is history? If it happened once, how do we know we can stop it? What if, in spite of all we do, the ship still sinks? What if we avoid one iceberg, just to hit another?"

Tom felt a headache coming on, as he tried to think it through. Casey threw up her hands. "I refuse to accept determinism, Sam. The universe does not "have it in" for the
Titanic
or for Mr. Andrews or anybody else. There's no point getting up in the morning if that's true."

Tom agreed, but with a caveat. "I do believe in determinism, Casey, but not in the way you and Sam mean." He watched her carefully, wondering how important her atheism was to her. "I believe that God has our lives planned and we can't change his plan. He may have it written that I die on
Titanic
, but I don't know that for certain. I must live as if I've been given a full measure of years. If I'm to die, then nothing I do will make a difference. But I still must try to
make
that difference."

She looked unhappy but said only, "As long as you try. That's all I'm asking."

Casey walked him to the door, while Sam took cups to the kitchen. He paused before leaving, needing to say one more thing. "Casey, you've had to make an incredible adjustment. I can't even comprehend what it must have been like for you." He took her hand in both of his. "You need friends, Casey. You can't spend your life working, or sitting in this house. There's a whole world out there. I know it's not your world, but you need to let it become yours. May I help you do that?"

She blinked back tears and against all propriety, he pulled her into his arms again. "I mean it, Casey. I want to be your friend." More than your friend, he thought, but he said only, "I want you to meet my friends, too, and my family. You should have lots of people around you and lots of things to do."

Her voice was small. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Andrews."

He squeezed her gently then put both hands on her shoulders, looking teasingly into her face. "Now, that won't do at all," he told her. "I'm still calling you Casey. You must call me Tom. Please?"

She took a deep breath, nodding. He nodded back, pleased, then kissed her hand and left.

Chapter 16

February 1907

One would think that being told the date and manner of one's death would be frightening and depressing, especially if the date were just a few years away. Yet Tom felt light and hopeful.

First, of course, was his sincere belief that whatever happened in his life was in the capable hands of God. And God had seen fit to give him a warning of what might be ahead. He believed he could try to prevent it.
Indeed Tommy,
he told himself as he shaved the next morning,
you're obligated to prevent it. You're not the only one who dies.

He stared thoughtfully into the mirror, hearing Sam Altair’s voice again. “You need to keep that ship afloat for at least five hours. It’s four hours before the first rescue ship arrives.”

As a managing director of the firm, he was responsible for the integrity of any ship the firm built. Despite the horror of the accident Casey and Sam described, Tom felt confident that he could design the ship to withstand it. He always said that once you understood how a ship could sink, you could design it to float.

The second reason for his hope was Casey. The thought of her made him feel light and giddy, and whatever else he was thinking about, thoughts of Casey intruded. He was drawn to her peculiar mixture of strength and vulnerability. At some point he had decided to believe her story, and he hurt for her. She had lost everything in a single moment–her family, her friends, her plans, her very world–yet she had persevered, tenacious enough to build a new life. But how lonely she must be! He was quite serious when he said he wanted her to meet his friends, and he was already thinking of a night of music and dancing on Saturday. It had occurred to him, however, that one or two friends might be competition for Casey’s affections. Maybe he should just introduce her to his married friends for now.

He had a moment of deep enjoyment when he told Ham about his adventure. He skimmed over his reasons for deciding to see Casey and said nothing of her story, but with a great deal of satisfaction, he described seeing her for the first time and what she looked like. He could see that Ham was kicking himself for not thinking to go first. Ham was also amused that Tom planned on courting her.

“That’s going to get the whole place going again, you know,” he told Tom, who shrugged it off.

“I suspect the payoff will be worth it,” he said, and then he put his hand over his heart. “I must see her again, Ham. I am simply overwhelmed.”

“Well, then, I wish you good luck, sir,” Ham replied, moving to his own desk to begin the scheduling. “You must keep me apprised of your progress!”

Tom laughed. “I’ll do that. I just hope it’s all good news.”

~~~

The Belfast City Council had made it a priority to modernize Belfast, and huge strides had been made in recent years to provide electricity and telephone service throughout the city. Tom, always looking for better ways to build ships, was usually one of the first to try a new invention of any kind, and a telephone was no exception. As well, his parents were not afraid to keep up with the times, and had recently installed a telephone at Ardara House, the family home in Comber. He and his mother had developed a pleasant habit of speaking to each other nearly every night. They had always been close, and Tom often confided in her. But he was somewhat reticent to tell her about Casey. He couldn’t tell her everything, and he suspected she would not be as amused as Ham had been.

She wasn’t.

“I hope you consider what you are getting into, Tommy.” Mrs. Andrews expected her children to put family honor ahead of other considerations, and her voice through the phone sounded sterner than usual. “The girl is an American. You know nothing about her family. She has been the instigator of a great deception, however amusing it was. You must make sure that she is a suitable match for you. Don’t let your emotions cloud your thinking.”

She was right, based on the information she had.
I wish I could tell them everything. I could show them the “cell phone” and the “calculator.” It would be better if they knew the truth.
Yet his thoughts gnawed at the fear his parents would never believe the story. And he had no right to break the trust Sam and Casey had placed in him.

 “I understand your concern, Mother,” he said at last. “I realize I need to know her better, but I did spend several months working with her. Even accounting for her deception, I believe she is honest and trustworthy. I know that she is kind and cares for others. I suspect she was well brought up, whoever her parents were.”

“I hope so, dear.” Her tone was warmer. “You have always been a good judge of character and I do trust you to make the right decision. I look forward to meeting the young lady and her guardian.”

“I promise to bring them around for dinner, soon,” he told her, and she left it at that.

~~~

Sam had his own misgivings. He’d seen Casey angry, sad, hungry, any number of things. He had never seen her in love. But there was no doubt the girl had gone completely over, and he was worried. Edwardian society had its own rules for things, and for her protection, he felt she had to know those rules.

He broached the subject at dinner the night after Tom had been over. “We’ve never really developed a story about your family, Casey,” he told her. “It’s possible that some people will want to know more information about your upbringing, to determine how you might fit into this society. What will we tell them?”

Casey looked resigned, as if she had known this was coming. “We tell them the truth, Sam. My father was an engineer, my mother was a doctor. We lived in Berkeley, I was an only child. Isn’t that a decent upbringing?”

“It is, Casey, it is. But some people might want details. Names, addresses. References, even. Death certificates. Something.”

Casey sighed. “But Sam, we’ve covered that. We have a story we tell people when they ask for information. Don’t change it now. And anyway, who wants to know, all of a sudden?”

He leaned back in his chair. “No one yet. But you have to understand this, Casey and you won’t like it. You’re falling in love with a man from a powerful family. They’re good people, don’t get me wrong. But they aren’t going to let their son marry a waif from the streets of Belfast. I’m just concerned that this may not turn out well.”

She stared at the table for a minute, and then whispered, “But I’m not a waif from the streets of Belfast.” She looked up at him, her eyes angry. “We were poor for a while and it was a struggle to get by. But we got through it. Do people hold that kind of thing against you, around here?”

“Maybe.” He rubbed his eyes wearily. “They might. I don’t know. But it’s not just that. It’s a class issue. This society is completely stratified, Casey. People very seldom marry outside of their class.”

“But Sam, Americans don’t have a stratified society. Europeans marry Americans, so there has to be a way around it…” she trailed off as Sam laughed at her.

“Don’t be naïve, Casey. Americans may try to say they don’t have a class society, but they do, they really do. Your parents would not be considered gentry unless they had lots and lots of money. Yes, they were educated and would be considered very well off, and you might be able to get away with that. But you and I are most definitely not part of the gentry of this society, and money has nothing to do with it. You’re born into it. I suppose you can only try, but you needed to be aware of this. The Andrews family simply may not approve of Tom being involved with an American girl, especially considering the circumstances.”

She stared sullenly at the table, not answering. Sam took a deep breath and plunged in with his
fait accompli
.

“Have you considered that in the original timeline, Tom marries someone else?”

Slowly, she raised her head to look at him. “What?”

“There’s another woman in Belfast who’s supposed to become his wife, Casey. I can tell you her name, age, who her family is, how many children they have…”

“No!” She stood, slapping the silverware off the table and against the wall with a great clatter. She glared at Sam. “You’re preaching determinism, again! I don’t care who he married before. He died before! I’m going to stop that; I’ll stop the other, too.” Defiance brought her chin up. “He didn’t know me before, but he knows me now. He’s interested in me, not someone else! And I will do everything I can to keep it that way!”

She left the room and he heard her bedroom door slam, as he dropped his head onto his arms.

 “That went well,” he told the silverware.

~~~

Tom was coming to dinner on Thursday and as the time approached, Casey’s emotions refused to settle on anything. Having him over the other night, knowing he was seeing her as a woman for the first time, had filled her with an erotic ache. He had actually held her, something completely against the rules. She couldn’t wait to see him again. To be with him now, to eat and talk and laugh with him, was almost more than she could bear. But Sam’s warnings moved like a murmur underneath her joy. It could all come to nothing, for the simple reason that she was an American and not from a wealthy family.

But when Tom arrived, bearing chocolates, Casey didn’t even try to keep her emotions in check. When she opened the door, he smiled and offered the candy, at the same time, glancing down at her dress. Her body throbbed in response to his gaze, but she managed to raise an eyebrow quizzically when his eyes again reached her face. His smiled widened into a teasing grin. “Just checking.”

She laughed. “I probably deserved that. Point to you.”

He laughed with her. “I promise I won’t wear the joke to death. Just until you’ve paid me back for all the teasing the men put me through.”

“That will take a while, I imagine.”

He patted her shoulder, and his next words sent a thrill charging through her. “I hope to spend several years at it.”

After dinner, she and Sam showed Tom their time travel journals and described how they were attempting to keep track of any changes they made in the past. Tom had brought a notebook in which he had recorded their observations about the
Titanic
. They all agreed to continue with the journals and compare their notes regularly as time went by. They spent a couple of hours writing it all down, including sketches that Sam tried to duplicate from memory. Tom was astonished at the things Sam knew, from being able to sketch a rough draft of a ship that had not yet been designed, to information about a coal fire that burned for two weeks and probably contributed to the quick sinking, by weakening a bulkhead.

As Sam and Casey talked about the building of the ship and the disaster itself, Tom made notes, quickly categorizing their memories by placing a symbol next to each item. He would later add a section to the notebook for each symbol. This is where he would work on the detail. They had an intense debate about whether Tom should take the book to work or leave it with Casey and Sam. Although he acknowledged the danger of having it at work, Tom was adamant that he needed to have it with him. He would keep it locked in a drawer, and not even Ham would have a key.

~~~

Saturday afternoon, when Tom finished work for the day, he invited Casey for a walk in the Botanic Gardens. The day was cold, but clear, and the treetops moved in a high breeze. It was too early for flowers, but the park's greenery was flourishing, and there were several groups of people taking the fresh air. Tom met Casey and Sam at the entrance to the park, Casey smiling with excitement at the prospect of a walk. She looked wonderful, in a simple brown skirt and jacket. She wore a green scarf around her throat, and a flowered hat. Her eyes seemed to pick up the color from the scarf, looking even deeper green than usual. She held his arm as they walked, and he felt as if there was no other time or place in the world except for this one.

They left Sam reading on a bench near the entrance, and as they strolled away, Tom explained that he had a certain motive for the walk. "You had all those months, working at the yard, getting to know me, while you knew that you were a woman, not a boy. I need a chance to catch up." He stopped and looked at her quite seriously. "What parts of Casey the boy, are true for the woman, as well? What was an act?" He smiled, but it was a troubled smile. "Who is Casey Wilson?"

She returned his smile, with tears in her eyes. "Well now, that's a very fair question. I don't know that the answer is a short one."

He patted her hand and resumed walking. "We have all afternoon. Start anywhere."

She laughed a little, and then paused as if to gather her thoughts. "I want to be completely honest with you," she said, and he frowned. He expected her to be honest, why would she say that? She squeezed his arm. "What I mean by that, is that I might need to tell you more than you expect to hear about the time I'm from, to give you reasons for what I did or said. You see, once I started getting to know you, I knew that I would never lie to you about anything else, ever. No matter what the cost to me."

She fell silent, unable to continue for a moment. Tom rubbed her fingers. "Casey, I have forgiven you for that deception. I understand your reasons, even more now than before. Please don't let it stay between us."

With a deep breath, she nodded, and then gestured widely. "Well, it may surprise you to hear that, for the most part, Casey the boy–the way I acted and talked and worked while at the yard–is pretty much me. In a way, the woman who wears these… costumes," she indicated her hat and clothes, "is more of an act than the boy."