Women and Children First (18 page)

Reg was badly shaken by his conversation with Annie. He felt sick and dizzy with exhaustion but knew that if he lay down, his head would fill with nightmares of drowning and loss. He couldn’t bear to be still. If he kept moving, maybe he’d find John around the next corner and they’d hug and things would be all right. He needed to talk to someone about what had happened, needed it badly, and John was the only person he could think of who would do.

A
Carpathia
crewman was walking round with a list of names.
That’s it!
Reg thought.
He will know if John is here because his name will be on the list. I need to get him to check his list.

The man was talking to another group of passengers, but Reg waited patiently to attract his attention. They took a long time and Reg wasn’t close enough to hear what was said but he imagined they were asking after their friends on board, checking who was there and who wasn’t. At last they finished and the man turned towards Reg.

‘Passenger or crew?’ he asked.

‘Crew.’

‘Name?’

‘John Hitchens.’

He scanned the list then wrote the name down. ‘What job?’

‘First-class victualling steward.’

He wrote that down as well. ‘You look like you need some kip,’ he told Reg. ‘Go down to our dorms. Pick any bed that doesn’t already have someone in it.’

I don’t want to sleep. I want to find John
. The man had turned to walk away, though, and Reg realised his last words hadn’t been spoken out loud. Did that mean that John was on the list? Or not? Why hadn’t he said either way? Reg’s brain felt as though it was full of fog. He started to follow the man with the list, but realised he had disappeared from sight round a corner. Which way had he gone?

Reg turned into a carpeted corridor with cabins leading off. Was this the first-class area? It was hard to tell on this ship where each section led into the next. While he was hesitating, a cabin door opened and Mr Grayling emerged and stared at him.

‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded.

‘I was looking for someone, a friend of mine.’

‘I see,’ he frowned. ‘Well, I hope you find your friend. I still haven’t found my wife and I’m starting to become rather alarmed. You haven’t come across her, I suppose?’

‘Oh no!’ Reg cried in despair, and struggled to hold back his tears. ‘She must be here. Where could she be?’

Mr Grayling looked surprised. ‘I wasn’t aware you were so fond of her.’

Reg nodded. ‘I am.’ He looked at the floor. ‘She’s been very good to me.’

‘I suppose she gave you a ridiculously generous tip. She’s like that.’ He tutted. ‘I can’t imagine what’s happened to her, unless she got off the lifeboat I put her on to go back to our cabin for something. I couldn’t keep an eye on her because I was ushered to a boat on the other side of the ship. Did you see her at all after the collision?’

Reg shook his head. ‘I came and knocked on your cabin door but there was no one there.’

‘You didn’t go in?’

‘It was locked.’

Mr Grayling looked startled for a moment, but recovered himself quickly. ‘Yes, of course. It would have been. I see. I suppose … I’m afraid I’m beginning to think the worst.’ His voice was grave but emotionless.

Fresh tears came to Reg’s eyes. ‘There’s a man going round with a list,’ he suggested. ‘Maybe she is on it?’

‘The roll call? I’ve already checked that.’

Reg smeared the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. Poor Mrs Grayling. It was horrible to think she might have perished. Why would she have got off her lifeboat? What had been so important?

‘You’re in a bad way, my boy. Have you seen a doctor? Look, your feet are bleeding.’

Reg glanced down to see that blood was soaking through the bandages.

‘You should go and rest somewhere. Shall I call for someone to help you?’

‘I’m fine,’ Reg mumbled. ‘You’re right. I’ll go and rest now. Thank you, sir.’ Then he added, ‘I do hope you find Mrs Grayling.’

He turned and hobbled back the way he had come, going over the conversation in his head. How could Mr Grayling be so calm about the loss of his wife? Did he even care about her? Or was he happy that she was out of the way so he could spend more time with his young mistress? You’d think he would put on a show of grieving at the very least. She deserved much better.

And then something else Mr Grayling had said came to mind. He had talked about a roll call. That’s what the list was, and Reg’s name wouldn’t be on it because he had given John’s name instead of his own.
Idiot!
He’d have to find the man with the list and get him to change it. Not until he’d had some rest though. He was so very tired that if he didn’t lie down soon, he would collapse. Somehow he made it to the crew dormitory, selected a bed in the farthest corner from the door and was unconscious as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The first-and second-class areas on the
Carpathia
were much smaller and dowdier than their equivalents on the
Titanic,
while the third-class areas were larger, with basic furniture and fittings. The ship had been sailing towards the Mediterranean with almost all her cabins occupied, so it was a crush for the seven hundred and eleven
Titanic
survivors to be fed and found places to wash and rest. Every bed, every chair was occupied and many slept on the floor, while the
Carpathia
staff worked flat out to serve extra sittings at mealtimes.

Walking into any room, you could tell at a glance which were
Titanic
passengers and which
Carpathia
, for the
Titanic
ones looked dazed, full of disbelief about what had happened to them, while the
Carpathia
passengers observed them with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity, as if they were rare specimens in a zoo. Virtually everyone behaved with consideration towards the others on board – everyone, Juliette thought, except her mother.

‘It’s unacceptable that we have to queue to get into the dining saloon for meals,’ she proclaimed loudly. ‘Do they know who we are?’

‘Do be quiet, Mother,’ Juliette hissed.

‘We paid more for our tickets than the
Carpathia
passengers, so we should be given priority.’

‘It’s a different shipping company. We haven’t paid these people anything at all.’

Robert was the only person she could bear to be around. He was calm and practical, finding solutions to any problems that arose. He found a small second-class cabin for Juliette and her mother to share and collected some basic toiletries from the barber’s shop on board. He arranged for Lady Mason-Parker’s blouse to be laundered, and procured some aspirin when she complained of a headache. Whenever she could, Juliette liked to escape with him for a walk round the decks, where they talked endlessly about what had happened, and why, and tried to come to terms with their experience.

Juliette wanted to find out the name of the man who had died in her arms, so together they approached Officer Lowe to ask if he had been identified. He told her that it had been a twenty-five-year-old first-class passenger called Frederick Baines, a sales representative for a pharmaceutical company, who had been travelling alone.

‘Like me,’ Robert said, ‘but two years younger.’

‘Yet you survived,’ Juliette pointed out. ‘I still feel that I should have done more to help him.’

‘I was a college athlete and still play hockey. Perhaps Frederick Baines was not so fit, or perhaps he simply didn’t reach a boat so quickly.’

Officer Lowe nodded agreement. ‘He had been too long in the water. The pulse was only ever very faint. I expect his organs were failing well before we hauled him on board. The doctor told me that twenty minutes is the most he would expect a fit man to live in such water temperatures. You did all you could for him, Lady Mason-Parker.’

‘Thank you for saying so.’

‘If I might make one more suggestion … Perhaps you could write a letter to his mother, telling her about his final hours. I’m sure it would bring her great comfort to know he was so well cared for. If you feel able to write such a letter, I will make sure that it is delivered.’

Juliette agreed that she would, and was glad to have a task that absorbed her for some of the time at least. Robert read her drafts of the letter and made suggestions and at last declared it perfect so she copied it out neatly and he took it to Officer Lowe.

It seemed that most of Juliette’s acquaintances from the ship had survived, but Robert was with her when she heard the news that Mrs Grayling was not among them.

‘How could that be?’ she exclaimed, distraught. ‘I thought all the first-class women were escorted to lifeboats by their room stewards?’ She couldn’t fathom what might have happened.

‘Something went wrong, I suppose. I believe she was one of only four first-class ladies to perish. Two waited behind with their husbands and one, I hear, was too fearful to get into a boat, but neither scenario was the case with Mrs Grayling. I expect her last moments will remain a mystery.’

‘Yet her husband survived. Why did he not attend to her safety?’

‘You were fond of her, I see,’ Robert commented.

‘In truth, I didn’t know her well, but she had invited us to dine with her on arrival in New York. I think she and my mother were scheming to find me an American husband.’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth Juliette blushed, wishing she hadn’t mentioned it, but Robert smiled.

‘I can’t believe that you are not entirely capable of finding a husband for yourself. They must be queuing up at your door.’

Juliette blushed even deeper. ‘I shouldn’t have told you about that,’ she stammered. ‘Forget I spoke.’ Since the catastrophe she hadn’t given a thought to the small matter of her pregnancy. It was no longer the overriding concern in her life. She hadn’t even felt nauseous on the
Carpathia
because there were much more pressing worries to attend to.

‘Not at all. I’m curious to hear that the Graylings planned to entertain. They are notoriously reclusive. I don’t think I’ve heard of them giving a dinner party in many years, despite the fact that they have a large Madison Avenue home with perfect amenities for entertaining.’

‘How sad that the dinner will not come to pass now. I would have liked to get to know her better once we were in New York.’

Tears came to Juliette’s eyes again, and to distract her, Robert continued, ‘Speaking of our arrival in New York, do you have a hotel reservation or will you stay with relatives?’

‘I believe we are staying at the Plaza. I hope they will hold the room although we will arrive more than a day later than expected.’

‘I’m sure they will. I would be honoured if you would allow me to escort you there on arrival. There is bound to be a scrum at the port, with worried relatives and reporters all trying to get close, but my driver will be waiting. May I offer my protection?’

‘Oh, please. Yes.’ The prospect of wrestling their way through a crowd and trying to find a taxi in an unfamiliar city was daunting. She didn’t want to be separated from Robert on arrival. She felt safe with him around.