Titanic Affair (27 page)

‘I heard it was the
Carpathia
,’ said a man.

‘I wish they’d hurry, whoever they are,’ said one of the women pathetically. ‘My feet are so cold.’

There was water in the bottom of the boat, and it was icy.

‘And there are no supplies,’ said one of the men. ‘If we’re adrift for any length of time we won’t survive.’

Emilia thought of the piles of bread she had tripped over on the deck, which had never been put aboard the boats.

She remembered Pansy saying there was usually a lifeboat drill on the first Sunday of a voyage. Why Captain Smith had decided not to hold one on this voyage she did not know, but it had left the passengers and crew ill prepared for an emergency. The boats had been lowered slowly and only half filled. There had been no provisions put on board. Passengers had not known where to go or what to do. But it was too late to worry about it now.
Titanic
had gone. Captain Smith had gone. She shuddered as she thought of the last view she had had of him, being washed off the bridge by a wave.

‘Perhaps they just told us there was a ship coming to reassure us,’ said one of the women, voicing everyone’s fears. ‘Perhaps no one’s coming for us. Perhaps we’ll float here without food or water for days. Perhaps we’ll never be found. Perhaps —’

‘The
Olympic
’s coming,’ said Emilia firmly, hearing the rising panic in the woman’s voice. ‘I heard the Captain tell the First Officer that the
Olympic
was on her way. He might lie to the passengers to reassure them, but he wouldn’t lie to the officers.’

She had not heard him say any such thing, but she knew it was vital to keep up everyone’s spirits. Out in the middle of the ocean, in the freezing cold, with icebergs all around them, if they did not keep up their spirits, they would not survive.

‘True,’ murmured one of the men. ‘He wouldn’t lie to a fellow officer.’

‘What would be the point?’ agreed another.

The panic began to subside.

It was replaced by a despondent air. They were adrift in the Atlantic, miles from land. They were cold and wet and frightened. They could do nothing to help themselves.  Now all they could do was wait.

It was a long night. But after what seemed like an age, the day at last began to dawn. As the sun streaked the horizon with shades of red and gold, Emilia began to feel renewed heart. Although the view was desolate, it had a beauty all its own. Everywhere she looked there was ice. Huge chunks of it floated on the surface of the vast ocean, coloured in shades of red and pink and yellow by the early morning sun. In the distance was the towering iceberg that had sunk
Titanic
. It looked peaceful, serenely unaware of the damage it had wrought. Its craggy slopes glowed in the sunshine, sparkling like diamonds where the facets caught the light.

Beyond the ice there was nothing. Not a scrap of land in sight. There was nothing but the ocean and the great mass of ice. And, despite the beauty, they were afloat without food or water, and numb with cold.

The boat began to rock gently. At first she found the movement soothing, but then realized that the sea was starting to grow rough. It had been calm overnight, as flat as a piece of glass, without a breath of wind to stir it. But now waves were starting to appear, and they were growing bigger. The fragile boats could not last in the open if the weather should turn.

There was no conversation. Everyone in the boat was too tired and too worn out by the events of the night to speak. But then one of the woman facing Emilia broke her silence.

‘A ship.’ She spoke with rising joy. ‘Look! Over there. It’s a ship.’

Emilia hardly dare turn round.

At last she did so, slowly, and saw a wonderful sight. There, coming towards them, was the unmistakeable black and red stack of a ship.

‘We’re saved!’

The cry ran round the little boat.

But then the ship stopped.

‘What’s she doing?’ asked one of the men. ‘Hasn’t she seen us?’

‘She can’t get any closer because of all the floating ice,’ said one of the sea men. ‘We’ll have to go to her. Pull those oars.’

Men and women both took hold of the oars and began to pull with all their might.

‘It’s
Carpathia
,’ said one of the seamen as they drew closer.

Emilia pulled her oar with renewed strength. Slowly but surely the small boat neared
Carpathia
. It was not the only one. There were other boats approaching the ship. They came from all directions, carrying the survivors of
Titanic
. Perhaps Carl was amongst them, Emilia thought.

She pulled on her oar, as her spirits began to rise.

The boat drew closer still to
Carpathia
. She could see figures now, climbing up the side of the ship from one of the lifeboats which had drawn up alongside.  They were climbing up a rope ladder which had been let down from
Carpathia
. Next to them were figures being hauled on to the ship by way of a bosun’s chair. Mail sacks, too, were going up and down. To begin with, she didn’t trust her eyesight, but then she realized what the mail sacks were for. Babies were being put into them so that they could be pulled on board.

The light continued to grow, and with a last heave of the oars, Emilia’s boat reached the side of the ship.

She let go of her oar with relief. Her arms were aching, and her back felt like it was breaking. Her palms were blistered and the wound beneath her thumb had started to bleed again. But none of it mattered. She had reached the
Carpathia
. She was safe.

Even now, some of the other survivors from her boat were climbing up the rope ladder. She stood up and reached out to take hold of it, but her hands were so numb she could not grip it. She tried again.

‘Here,’ said one of the sea men in her boat. ‘Take the bosun’s chair.’

It had been lowered again. Emilia sat on the seat and held on to the ropes as best she could, then with a jolt the chair began to rise. The sea grew further and further away from her as she was pulled up to
Carpathia
, and at last she was safely aboard. A blanket was wrapped round her shoulders and someone put a flask into her hand.

‘Drink this.’

She took a sip, and spluttered. It was brandy.

‘And again,’ the voice said.

She took another sip.

The brandy was like fire in her mouth, but it quickly began to warm her through. It put some life back into her, and although she was exhausted she was able to move.

‘There’s a hot meal waiting for you downstairs,’ said one of
Carpathia
’s officers.

‘I have to find Carl,’ she said, turning to him entreatingly. ‘Do you know if he’s been brought aboard? Mr Carl Latimer.’

‘I can’t tell you, miss,’ said the officer sympathetically. ‘We’ve a lot of
Titanic
’s survivors on board, and more boats are coming in all the time. I don’t know if Mr Latimer’s amongst them. But there’s a hot meal waiting for you downstairs,’ he said again.

‘Later,’ said Emilia.

She could not eat, could not think, until she knew if Carl was alive. She handed the flask back to him and then she went round the deck looking for Carl. There were many survivors on board, all bearing signs of shock, but Carl was not among them. She went over to the rail. More boats were approaching. Carl, she told herself, would be in one of them.

She refused to face the possibility that he might not have survived.

Mrs Gisborne was sitting in one of the first class staterooms on board 
Carpathia
sipping a cup of tea. To look at her, no one would have guessed she had just been involved in a terrible disaster. She was immaculately dressed in an Empire-line gown with low-heeled shoes. Her hair was artistically arranged in an elaborate, loose chignon, and she was calm and composed.

She sipped her tea delicately then put her cup back into the saucer.

‘It must have been dreadful for you,’ said Patricia Braithwaite sympathetically.

Mrs Braithwaite was one of Mrs Gisborne’s society friends. She was a statuesque woman with black hair and blue eyes, and was dressed in the latest fashion. She had been travelling on
Carpathia
when news of the disaster had reached Captain Rostron. The Captain had immediately turned the ship around and set out for
Titanic
’s last known coordinates. Knowing that Mrs Gisborne was on board, Mrs Braithwaite had awaited her friend on the deck, and had taken her to her stateroom as soon as she had boarded the ship.

With them was Dolly Frampton, another of their society friends, a graceful woman with red hair who had been travelling aboard
Carpathia
with Mr and Mrs Braithwaite. They were sitting clustered around a console table on which was a silver tray with a pot of tea with three cups and saucers. A plate of biscuits was next to it.

‘It was awful,’ Mrs Gisborne agreed.

Despite the tragedy, she was in remarkably good spirits. She had been in one of the early boats to escape
Titanic
, and had avoided the scenes of panic that had become prevalent later when it had become clear that the ship was going to sink. She had been warmly dressed, and had even had a blanket for her knees, so that she had suffered none of the terrible exposure of other passengers. There had been plenty of seamen aboard her boat, so that she had not had to row and, in addition, her husband’s flask of spirits had kept out the worst of the cold. Not even the cries of the drowning had shaken her for long. She had never empathised with other people’s sorrows, and she had congratulated herself on escaping the disaster rather than feeling for those who had not been so lucky.

‘How terrible to lose everything. I don’t know what I’d do if my jewels were at the bottom of the sea,’ said Dolly, fingering her pearl necklace.

Mrs Gisborne arranged her shawl around her shoulders. The shawl was her only concession to the fact that she had spent the night in a lifeboat instead of a warm stateroom, and was now feeling a little chilled.

‘Fortunately, we took everything of value with us,’ she said. ‘I heard the Captain talking to Mr Andrews just after the ship  hit the iceberg. Mr Andrews said the ship would sink. I didn’t believe it at first, but when I saw his eyes I knew it was true. I alerted Thomas and we returned to our stateroom, putting on an extra layer of clothing and collecting our valuables. Janice picked up blankets for our knees and pillows for us to sit on, and we made our way back to the deck. We left in one of the first boats.’

‘There must have been a terrible rush for the boats,’ said Mrs Frampton.

‘Not at all. No one wanted to get in. The crew told everyone there was no danger, and no one believed the ship would sink.’

‘So that’s why your boat was only half full,’ said Mrs Braithwaite. ‘And why it had so many gentlemen.’

Mrs Gisborne nodded.

‘It was women and children first, of course, but once there were no more women and children in sight - or at least, no more who would get in - the gentlemen were allowed to embark.’ She frowned. ‘The thing I am vexed about is that Carl Latimer did not get in a boat. I saw him on deck with that little kitchen maid, but he went below for his mother and I never saw him again. I only hope he caught a later boat.’

‘No, he didn’t,’ said Mrs Braithwaite.

‘No?’ Mrs Gisborne sighed heavily. ‘Then it is the ruination of all my plans, and the ruination of my poor, dear sister, Susan, and my dear niece, Isabelle.’

‘Not necessarily,’ said Mrs Braithwaite. ‘Although he didn’t manage to climb aboard a boat, he was pulled out of the sea after
Titanic
went down. He’d been in the water a long time. I saw him brought on board
Carpathia
. He was unconscious, but alive.’