by ID Johnson
Jonathan had sent a wire to Mr. and Mrs. Ashton to let them know Charlie was alive, but he wasn’t specific. There were so many messages going in and out, it was difficult to get anything sent at all. Rumor had it that part of the reason Titanic had hit the iceberg in the first place was because the wireless officers had disregarded dozens of warnings from other ships as they sent out messages from passengers. Clearly, this group of entitled individuals each felt the message they needed to send was more important than anyone else’s, and it made Meg angry to think of the lives that were lost at least partially due to this privilege.
Meg had wondered if Charlie’s parents had even known he was aboard Titanic. Jonathan said he didn’t think so, but they still might wonder if they hadn’t heard from him for several days. Word of the disaster would’ve reached them by now, and Jonathan wasn’t sure if Charlie had sent them a message earlier in the trip to let them know he was on his way back. Meg was well aware that Charlie’s stay in Southampton was initially supposed to be much longer, but then, she’d gone and ruined all that.
Her own mother and uncle would have no way of knowing she was aboard Titanic unless Madeline Astor told them, and since she had heard that the young woman’s husband did not make it off Titanic, she doubted Madeline would concern herself with Meg. Therefore, Mildred and Bertram Westmoreland would still be wondering what had happened to their respective daughter and niece. It might cross their minds that she had boarded Titanic, but they probably wouldn’t think it too likely unless they happened to see Kelly and Daniel O’Connell’s names aboard the list of rescued. She wondered if her mother would even bother to look for their names. For that matter, she wondered if her mother would even bother to look for her daughter’s name. At any rate, she wouldn’t be sending any messages to her family to let them know she had survived.
Her name was listed as Meg West, Third Class Passenger, and in many ways, that’s who she felt she was at this point. Her clothing matched the description. Her family now consisted of the woman who’d been her servant in Southampton but also been her best friend, along with her husband and their two small girls. Charlie was another matter entirely; if he didn’t come around to himself, would he even be compelled to honor the arrangement he had to marry Mary Margaret Westmoreland? He had proclaimed to Meg that he loved her and wanted to marry her, but once he had some time to decide which Charlie he wanted to be, perhaps he might change his mind. Or perhaps he would have little choice in the matter, and the Charlie who had loved her would be just as lost once they landed in New York as he had been when he slipped away from her for those few minutes right after they’d been reunited aboard Carpathia.
There were so many possibilities, and she’d spent the better part of three days attempting to sort them all out in her mind. Now, with the shoreline looming in the distance and the certainty that they would soon dock, she needed to consider what her next step would be. Perhaps it was the arguing of her own thoughts that made the silence amongst her shipmates so overwhelmingly loud.
“Meg,” a quiet voice said behind her, and she turned to see Jonathan Lane standing there, a concerned expression on his face. He almost always wore a black bowler hat, which covered all but patches of his dark hair, graying at his temples. He was still wearing the same suit he’d had on when they’d boarded the lifeboats three days ago. Spending countless hours sitting next to Charlie, wandering the decks looking for any sort of mental release, and sleeping in it had left the suit wrinkled, and Meg likened her own emotions to a crumpled black suit that no longer fit properly or served its original purpose.
“Is Charlie all right?” It was the first thing that came to her mind when she saw him standing out here, away from his employer’s bed. One of them had been with Charlie the entire time. Now, neither of them was there, which sent waves of panic through her insides.
“He’s fine,” Jonathan assured her. “They’re getting him ready to transfer. The doctor wants him taken straight to the hospital as soon as we arrive. They thought it best that we all step out while they do so.”
Meg nodded and took a deep breath. Worry that something might happen to Charlie was a constant state of mind for her now, with these spikes in panic each time something else presented itself as evidence that he might not be all right, and her heart would be happy when there was no more reason to suspect the worst. “Was he awake when you left?”
“He was,” Jonathan confirmed, stepping up to lean against the wet railing beside her. There was no sense in attempting to stay dry at this point, and Meg had given up hours ago, though she did have a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “He asked about you. He wanted to know if you were planning to go to the hospital with him, and I said I’d ask.”
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “He didn’t even know who I was when he awoke this morning. I had to remind him. Again.”
“I know,” Jonathan said, adjusting his hat. “I believe his memory loss is due to the medication, Meg. They’ve been sedating him heavily. I think, once he sees his family again, once he’s home, his own doctor won’t press such high doses of medication on him, then his memory will start to come around again.”
Wanting to believe his words and knowing they were true were different matters, and Meg began to slowly shake her head. “All we can do is try, I suppose,” she said, her voice just a hoarse whisper.
“Will you go with him then? I’m not certain where we might find his parents, and I thought it might be best if I attempt to track them down while you accompany him to the hospital. There’s bound to be hundreds, if not thousands, of people waiting when we get off at the pier. Reporters, photographers, family members who’ve yet to hear anything, people who simply want to gawk at us, as if our pain is nothing but a sideshow at a circus.”
Meg stared at him in wonder; none of those things had occurred to her, except for the bereaved families, of course. “Do you think so?” she asked, pursing her lips together.
Jonathan nodded. “I heard Ismay sent a message to the White Star Line to let them know what transpired. That alone would be enough to alert the newspapers. Who knows what others are sending over the wire. There will be plenty of people awaiting our arrival.”
They were nearly at the docks now. Meg could see the Statue of Liberty, but she didn’t stare at it. So many times she had imagined what it would be like to approach New York Harbor by boat, having gained her freedom from her abusive mother and uncle. She had envisioned that lady with the torch symbolizing a new life for her, but now, with Charlie injured possibly beyond repair, and so many widowed women, fatherless children, and lost souls standing around her, looking up at the statue and dreaming of renewal seemed scurrilous. Averting her eyes and choosing not to acknowledge it at all seemed like a more respectable thing to do.
“He wants you with him, Meg,” Jonathan repeated, drawing her attention back to his face. “You’ll go, won’t you?”
“Yes, of course,” Meg replied. She didn’t want to. She wanted to blend in with the throng of people exiting the boat, to put her head down and melt into them, disappearing into the New York night. Where she might go after that, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps a boarding house or a shelter of some sort. Would White Star even provide these people who had nowhere to go a place to sleep tonight? It was nearly 10:00 PM. What about the children who had no parents? She realized Jonathan was speaking and tried to concentrate on the reality of what was about to happen to her, not the Meg in her mind who was bold and carefree—perhaps careless—who would be willing to step off of a ship and into a world she’d only dreamt of as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“They said you could wait outside of his door, and they’d let you walk out with them. It might be a while. They’re going to let all of the Carpathia passengers off first.”
Meg only nodded, her mind still darting between scenarios.
“I believe we’ve passed the pier we should’ve docked at, though,” Jonathan muttered, reaching up on his tiptoes to look out over the wa
ter, as if that might somehow help. “I’m going to go and see what might be happening. I’ll come find you when I know more.”
“All right,” she managed.
“Do you know where Kelly and Daniel are?” he asked.
“No. Daniel said you gave him an address?”
“I did. It’s a boarding house where many of our workers live until they can find more suitable accommodations. I told him to go there and let them know I sent them. They’ll be safe for the night, and then once I speak to Mr. Ashton, we can decide where to place them permanently.”
She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant—permanently—but she nodded in agreement. At least Kelly and the girls would be safe. Daniel’s arm would be in a cast for another couple of months, but Charlie had assured the Irishman he would find him work at the factory. At least Jonathan would be able to guarantee that promise even if Charlie was in the hospital for weeks… or longer.
“Meg,” Jonathan said, taking her gently by the arms and peering into her eyes. “Everything will be all right. I promise you.”
She nodded again, thinking she was acting like she was the one who’d been given some sort of magic elixir.
“I’ll see you in a bit.” He smiled at her reassuringly and then let her go, blending into the crowd and disappearing.
Meg took another deep breath then turned in the direction that would take her to Charlie’s makeshift hospital room. She had no idea where she’d lay her head that night, but she was hopeful that, wherever it was, when she awoke, she’d see things much more clearly.
Jonathan Lane made his way through the crowds to find a porter or an officer who looked like he might know what was going on. There was one in particular who had been a constant force of good information, and he knew if he was able to find Briggins he’d know precisely why Carpathia had passed the Cunard piers.
He found the officer where he expected to, over near where the lifeboats from Titanic were being stored. He was giving directions as the lifeboats were being shifted about on the deck. The man saw Jonathan coming and offered a small smile of recognition. Jonathan was a master at finding out what he needed without troubling anyone or making his existence exhausting. “Briggins,” he called out as he approached. “Do you happen to know where we are headed?”
“New York Harbor,” the older man said with a chuckle. He looked tired and the laugh was forced. The entire crew of Carpathia had been worked to the bone these past three days, and Jonathan hoped White Star would find a way to compensate them for their work.
“I know that,” Jonathan replied. “Where about?”
He shouted a direction to one of the crewmen before he turned back to Jonathan. “We’re going to drop these lifeboats at White Star first, pier 59. Then, we’ll go back to 54.”
Jonathan’s forehead crinkled. “Really?” he asked, as if he might have misunderstood. “Seems peculiar.”
“Not sure the thinking,” Briggins replied. “But we’re getting them ready to unload as quickly as possible. We know there are a lot of people ready for this voyage to be over.”
The phrase made Jonathan’s gut tighten. It had ended abruptly for two-thirds of Titanic’s passengers. He knew Briggins hadn’t meant it that way. “Thanks for letting me know,” he said. “Your crew has been nothing but accommodating.”
“It’s the least we could do,” Briggins said, his smile morphing from good-natured to sympathetic. “How’s Charlie?”
Briggins knew that Jonathan had a friend who was ill; he didn’t know it was the millionaire Charles Ashton and that Jonathan was actually his liegeman. There seemed no reason for an elaborate explanation when all Jonathan needed at the time was information. “He’s doing better,” Jonathan said. “They’re taking him straight to the hospital once we arrive.”
“I believe they intend to get the Carpathia passengers off first,” Briggins explained. “The captain thinks it will be less of a spectacle that way. Not sure what the plan is for transporting the sick and injured after that.”
Jonathan had already heard that the original Carpathia passengers would be getting off first, but he was glad for the confirmation. “I’m sure they’ll take care of them. So far, the doctors and nurses have done an excellent job of caring for Charlie and the others.”
Briggins nodded in agreement. “Well, if I don’t see you again, Jonathan ol’ boy, it was nice to meet you,” the officer said, offering his hand.
Jonathan shook it. “It was nice to meet you as well. Thanks again for your help.” Briggins nodded, and Jonathan turned to get out of the way as they neared the pier. Why they thought the lifeboats needed to be removed first was beyond him, but he knew there must be a reason. He made his way back toward the hospital room, hoping Meg would be there. She’d been acting peculiar the last two days, and he was beginning to grow suspicious of her again. There was more going on with Miss Westmoreland than met the eye.
She was standing about where he expected her to be. Her hair looked more like a contained bird’s nest than the beautiful blonde tresses she’d worn the other night when she’d accompanied Charlie to dinner in the First Class dining hall—a million years ago, five days ago. The outfit she had on fit her even more poorly than the clothes she’d been wearing that belonged to Kelly, who was taller and a bit shapelier. She stood wringing her hands, crossing and uncrossing her arms, taking two steps one way and then two steps the other way, leaning against the wall, standing. Clearly, the young girl had a lot on her mind.
Jonathan did as well, but he continued to push it aside and compartmentalize it, as he had always done. He knew eventually he would have to face his own fear and regret, the realization that he had lived while others had died, that he had occupied a seat one of those frozen women or children could have sat in. The rationalization that there hadn’t been anyone else around to take that spot was neither here nor there. Now wasn’t the time to ponder such possibilities, however. He had a job to do—the same one he’d been doing for years. Charlie needed him, and even though at that particular moment it meant leaving him, he’d still do his best to facilitate a safe transition for Charlie back to solid ground.
“Meg?” he said, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. It took her a moment as her back was to him, as it had been earlier. Eventually she turned, and he could see recognition in her eyes, though they were having trouble focusing on his face. She reminded him a bit of a skittish rabbit, and he wondered if she was about to bound off in the opposite direction in an attempt to flee for her life. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said. “They haven’t opened the door. You said to wait here, didn’t you?”
“I did,” he assured her. “I found out we’re going to unload the lifeboats from Titanic first, and then we’ll return to the Cunard pier.”
She nodded, that distant look in her eyes starting to narrow so that she appeared to be with him again. “That seems… peculiar.”
“I agree. But that is what we are doing. And then, you’ll get off with Charlie, and I’ll get off and go find Mr. and Mrs. Ashton.”
Another nod, this one more forceful. “And Kelly and Daniel will take the little girls and go to the address you gave them?”
“Precisely.”
“Have they any money? Do you know?”
“I gave Daniel a few bills. He said he had managed to grab a little of what they had before he got off of the boat.”
Meg nodded again. “I don’t suppose I’ll need anything.”
The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. He assumed Charlie had his wallet with the rest of the few belongings that had come out of the water with him, which would mean he had money, but there was a chance Meg might need something, and she had absolutely nothing of her own with her. Not a thing. Reaching for his own wallet, he said, “Here, let me give you a few dollars, just in case.”
“Oh, no, that’s all right,” she said gesturing with her hands as if to push the money he held out away from her. “I don’t think I’ll need it fo
r anything.”
“It’s only twenty. I don’t have much more than that on me. Take it, Meg.”
She looked at the money and up at his face before taking a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jonathan,” she said.
His eyebrows arched. “Why ever not? You might need to buy something to eat or pay for a cab.”
She shook her head again. “No. If I do, I’ll just… I don’t know what I’ll do, but I don’t want to take it.”
“Meg, it’s not anything to worry about. This is less than pocket change to Charlie.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
She looked at the money, at him, and then off in the distance before returning her blue eyes to his face. “I’m afraid… if I take it… I might… run away.”
He was shocked. He had no idea what to say. It made sense, though. She truly was a frightened rabbit. He managed a weak smile. “Meg, you’re not going to run away. You’ve already done that.” He winked at her, but she didn’t seem to think it was a joking matter. Pressing the money into her hand, he said, “Take it in case you need it, Meg. You’re not going to abandon Charlie. You are a brave and industrious soul. You would never leave Charlie while he’s in the hospital. I know it’s frightening. You’re in a new place surrounded by strangers with nothing of your own. But I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
She took the money and shoved it into her pocket, as if she wanted to forget it was there. “What do you think Charlie’s parents will say when they meet me? Do they know… what I did?”
“No, they don’t know anything, as far as I know. Frankly, they won’t even know you’re you, unless you tell them. I have no idea what Charlie’s plan is as far as letting them know the pair of you have chosen to stay together. For that matter, I don’t even know if you are planning to stay Mary Margaret Westmoreland once you reach New York City. Or will you be Meg West?”