Crossings (30 page)

“Some of them are better.”

“Have we lost any more?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Hopefully we won't and they'll hang in until they get to shore. A few of them are walking around the ship.” But he was more concerned now with her. She had been amazing in the makeshift operating room. He had seen her each time he had brought another man in. “Do you want something to eat? I brought you a sandwich and a bottle of wine.” But the thought of food made her feel ill. She shook her head and sat up in the bed, patting it for him to sit down.

“I couldn't eat. What about you? Have you had any sleep?”

“Enough.” She saw him smile, and she took a deep breath. What an incredible experience to live through.

“Where are the girls?”

“Asleep in my hammock upstairs on the deck. They're safe there and the officer on watch is keeping an eye on them. They're all wrapped up in blankets. I didn't want them coming down here to wake you.” And then, “Come on, Liane, I want you to eat.” They were all living on reduced rations now with more than three times as many people on board than before the rescue, but the cook was working miracles and everyone was still being fed. The coffee and whiskey were holding out, miraculously, and there was enough for all. He handed her the sandwich then and uncorked the half-full bottle of wine. He pulled a cup from the pocket of the borrowed jacket he wore and poured her some.

“Nick, I can't … I'd throw up.”

“Drink it anyway. But eat the sandwich first.” She took a tentative bite, and felt her stomach contract at the shock of food, but after an initial wave of nausea, she had to admit that it tasted good, as did the first sip of wine. She handed him the cup then and he took a sip too.

“I should get up and see what I can do to help.”

“They've survived this long without you. They'll make it for another hour.”

She smiled at him in the dark, their eyes were accustomed now to the lack of light. “What I wouldn't give for a hot bath!”

“And clean clothes.” He smiled. “Mine are ready to get up and walk away.” And then suddenly they both thought again of the
Normandie
the year before and they both began to laugh. They laughed until the tears streamed from their eyes. Here, in the first mate's cabin, in the dark, they were far from the nightmare reality of the men who had survived, and it was a relief to think of the absurdity of gala nights and dinners in white tie and tails. “Do you remember all the trunks we brought?” The two collapsed in mirth again; it was laughter born of tension and exhaustion and relief. In torn filthy clothes, on a ship carrying almost three hundred men, including the original passengers and the crew, the
Normandie
seemed like a ship of fools, with its kennel and promenades and deluxe suites and
fumoir
and Grand Salon. It had been a lovely ship, but it was a thing of the past, and here they were, sharing a bottle of wine on a narrow bed, wondering if a U-boat would torpedo them within the hour. They both sobered again eventually and Liane watched the shadows on Nick's face in the dark.

“Look at how our lives have changed. It's extraordinary, isn't it?”

“Soon the whole world will change. This is only the beginning. We just got involved in it earlier than most.” His eyes looked deep into hers, and even in the darkness he could feel their pull, and without a second thought he spoke what was on his mind. Who knew, maybe in another hour they'd all be dead and he'd never have another chance. “You're beautiful, Liane. More beautiful than any woman I've ever known … beautiful inside and out. I was so proud of you last night.”

“I think I was able to do it because I knew you were there. I felt your thoughts with me.” Suddenly there was no other world but this, no life but theirs, alone in the tiny room, and he reached out and took her hand, and without saying another word he pulled her close, and they kissed, her lips as hungry as his. They clung to each other for a long time, and they kissed again with a desperation and a passion born of tasting death and still being alive.

“I love you, Liane … I love you. …” His mouth devoured her neck, her face, her lips, and another voice than hers seemed to answer him.

“I love you, Nick …” Her voice was soft and his words were a caress as their clothes seemed to fall away as they lay on the bed and their bodies meshed, other lives forgotten, other faces, other times … they were the only two survivors left of a forgotten time, and the only thing left to remember was this brief moment of passion as they made love and then, holding each other close, slept until the dawn.

ick and Liane woke up slowly in each other's arms with a bright sun peeking through the black paint, and he looked down at her with no regrets, watching her face to see the same peace mirrored there. He looked down at the long, graceful limbs, the big eyes, the tousled blond hair, and he smiled at her.

“I meant what I said to you last night. I love you, Liane.”

“I love you too.” She didn't understand how she could say the words. She loved Armand, yet she knew that in some way, she had loved this man for a long time. She had thought of him often during her lonely months of watching Armand drift away, and she had always felt some deep, inexplicable respect for Nick from the first. It was a different kind of love from the one she had known before, but she felt no regrets for what they had done. They had survived, together, alone, in a world no one else could know, and she belonged to him. Perhaps she never would again, but she knew that she did with all her heart and soul right now. “I don't know how to tell you what I feel …” She sought the words but she could see in his eyes that he understood.

“You don't have to. I know. And it isn't wrong. We need each other right now. Maybe we have for a long time.”

“And when we go back?” She was groping to understand, but he shook his head, watching her eyes.

“We don't have to think about that now. Right now, we live here. With these people on the ship. We've all survived. It's something to celebrate, to make us love each other more. We don't have to look further than that.” And somehow she knew he was right. He kissed her gently on the mouth, and she let her hands wander up and down his back, his arms, his thighs. She knew that she wanted him again, and wondered if that was wrong or if it was only their way of confirming life. She asked him no more questions then as they made love again, and then regretfully she got up and began to wash in the room's tiny sink as he watched. It was as though they had been lovers for years, and there was no shame or modesty between them. They had watched death together only hours before, and now this was far more natural and something they shared. It was life. “I'll go check on the girls while you dress.” He smiled at her, and felt happier than he had in years. Side by side, they had helped to save almost two hundred lives, and now they had a right to this … two more. “And then I'll see if I can find an empty shower somewhere. I'll meet you upstairs for a cup of coffee before we go back to work.”

“Okay.” She smiled openly at him, not the least embarrassed at having him see her like that. She kissed him once more before he left, and as thoughts of Armand threatened to make her question it all, she forced them from her mind. That would do her no good here. Later she and Nick would have to sort it all out. But not yet. They had not yet really survived, and they were less than halfway home. It was too soon for anything but living what they felt, day to day, hour by hour. For the first time in a long time she was grateful that she was alive.

She met him outside the galley with the girls. They looked as bedraggled as everyone else by now, but they seemed perfectly happy with Nick. They told her about the hours they had spent on the bridge, explained to her about the radio, and were apparently on first-name terms with the cook, who had brought out a small cake from God knew where and given it to the girls the day before. In remarkable fashion they had adjusted to this strange new life, and they didn't seem afraid. They told Liane about sleeping under the stars, and then they went back to the bridge again as Nick and Liane went slowly downstairs. They had shared a large steaming mug of coffee and a piece of toast, and she looked at him as they reached the first room filled with the men that had been saved. She touched Nick's hand before they went in and looked into the deep-green eyes.

“Do you suppose we've all gone mad?”

But he shook his head, and he didn't look crazy at all. “No. People are strange beasts, Liane. They adjust to almost anything. Strong people cannot be defeated.” And he was not embarrassed to add, “You and I are very strong. I knew that the first day we met and I loved it about you then.”

“How can you say a thing like that?” She spoke in whispers so no one would hear. “I've had everything I've wanted all my life. I've been comfortable, pampered, loved. I don't even know myself if I'm strong or not.”

“Think back over what you've lived through in the last year. Doubt, fear, loneliness, the first months of a war. And I know even without having seen you then, that you didn't even waver once. And I put my son on a ship not knowing if it'd be sunk or not. I let him go because I knew that even with the risks, he would be safer at home, if he got home all right. I've lived through years of loneliness with my wife … and I've survived, and so have you. We survived what we went through the other night, and neither of us had ever seen anything like it before.” He looked down at Liane. “We'll make it through the rest, my love.” And then he added softly, “We have each other now.” And then they walked into the room, and Liane almost had to hold her breath, the stench was so great, of sweat and bodies, and vomit and blood, and burns. But they worked on, side by side, for hours, and did everything the doctors told them to as they made their frequent rounds, and when they met with the other passengers to divide their rations on the deck, a kind of camaraderie and humorous toughness had been born. It did not make them immune to the tragedies they saw, but it let them put the sorrows aside and laugh at the little things. It gave Liane new patience with the girls when she saw them later on for a while, and it filled her with a fresh passion for Nick she had never known herself capable of. She had never been so in love with a man, and had never felt quite so strong and young. Her life with Armand had been part of a different world. She loved him, respected him, looked up to him, and yet she had found something different now, a man with whom she seemed to move with a powerful force, each one stronger from knowing that the other was at his side. It was not unlike what she had with Armand, and yet it was something more.

Liane and Nick shared a shift that night from nine o'clock until one, and then they went back to the room she was using. The girls were in Nick's hammock again, having begged him to let them sleep there, and now he and Liane fell into her bed, and made love as never before. They slept peacefully in each other's arms and then woke again, and made love, and then snuck into a shower together before the others got up, and went outside on deck to watch the dawn.

“This will sound crazy to you”—she looked at Nick with a smile—”but I've never been this happy before. It's almost sinful to say that with all the suffering on this ship … but that's how I feel.”

He put an arm around her shoulders and held her close. “That's how I feel too.” It was as though this was the life for which they had been born. And she no longer asked what would come next. She no longer wanted to know.

For the next six days they shared the same shifts, working with the ailing men, took their meals with the girls, and at night made love in her borrowed room. Their life fell into a comfortable routine and it came as a shock to both of them when the captain made a quiet announcement the next day that they would reach New York in two days. The journey so far had taken thirteen days. Now they looked at each other and said not a word. They moved as skillfully as they had before as they made their rounds, but when they went back to their room that night, Liane looked at him with big sad eyes. They both knew that the end was near, and it was important that the wounded men get home soon, and yet she wished that the crossing could go on, and she saw the same wish in his eyes as she looked at him. She sighed as she sat down in the familiar darkness of the room. It had become their home in the past week. And she didn't want to ask him now what they would do, but he heard her words without her saying them.