A Shop Girl at Sea

by Rachel Brimble

  Amelia swallowed the lump lodged in her throat. She had never felt so very alone and her heated exchange with Samuel had only enhanced her solitude. Their argument had left her shaken and upset and they had steadfastly avoided each other for the last two days. Would today be a third day of them not speaking?

  His distance pulled painfully at her heart.

  Despite being brought up in an orphanage and going straight into service, all Amelia ever sought and needed was the company of others.

  And she’d found that at Pennington’s and with the suffragist group in Bath.

  She’d found it with Samuel.

  Forcing her mind away from the man she was falling in love with, Amelia wondered how the staff and her associates fared. The suffragist society she belonged to provided a much-needed hand of friendship and when it had been extended by Esther Culford, Amelia had immediately clutched it. Would Esther and the others know of the sinking by now? Would Pennington’s? Elizabeth and Joseph’s faces swam in her blurred vision and she quickly blinked away the threat of tears.

  She had to send word to Elizabeth that she was alive and well. As for Mr Weir… Amelia glanced around the small trios and groups of men and women, she could only assume him dead. They had been aboard for three nights. If Mr Weir was alive, he would have found her by now. After all her moaning and protestations about him before they’d set sail, she would have given anything to see his harassed face spot her in the distance and have him come barrelling towards her in reprimand.

  She briefly closed her eyes before pulling back her shoulders and walking purposefully towards a group of crewmen.

  As she neared, one of them saw her and broke away from the group. ‘Might I help you, ma’am?’ he asked, touching his hand to his hat. ‘Is there anything you need?’

  ‘I was wondering how I might go about sending a message? I believe someone is in charge of sending them home for the first-class survivors? Only, if the courtesy has been extended to second—’

  ‘First-class, you say? Well, of course, ma’am. If you’d like to come with me, I’ll take you to an operator and he’ll arrange for a wire to be sent for you. Were you not in the saloon when the announcement was made that first-class passengers would send wires initially, before being quickly followed by second and third?’

  ‘I wasn’t, and I’m not actually first-class.’

  ‘You’re not?’ The young officer appraised her from head to toe as though she was dressed finely rather than in clothes that had been sodden and dried, her hair bedraggled and stuffed beneath her hat and her shoes no longer really resembling shoes at all. More leather and rubber held together by God’s generosity. ‘Well, pardon me, ma’am, but you certainly have a look of class about you, if you don’t mind me saying.’

  Amelia’s cheeks turned warm and she dipped her head. ‘Thank you. That’s very kind.’

  ‘Nothing kind about it.’ He winked. ‘It’s the truth.’

  Her smile faltered as he strode ahead of her. For a fleeting moment, she’d been flattered that an officer had mistaken her for first-class, when maybe he thought her nothing more than pretty. A face. A woman to cajole and flirt with. A woman to charm and manipulate. She narrowed her eyes at the officer’s back as she followed. Were there any different men in the world?

  She silently admonished herself. Samuel was different.

  Her anger lifted. Maybe if she could pass as a first-class passenger, it was a sign she was meant for bigger and better things. Samuel’s fiery determination to forge a whole new life for himself in New York wouldn’t leave her thoughts or conscience. Was he right? Shouldn’t every survivor take the chance they had been given and do something extraordinary?

  ‘Here you go, ma’am. I’ll leave you with Officer Jordan.’ The crewman touched his hat again. ‘Nice to meet you. Be sure to be back out on deck soon. You don’t want to miss your first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.’

  Amelia took a seat next to the operator and folded her hands in her lap, her back straight. ‘I’d like to send a message to Elizabeth Pennington at Pennington’s department store, Bath, England…’

  Fifteen minutes later, Amelia emerged from the operating room and back out onto the Boat Deck. The first person she saw was Samuel.

  He had his back to her talking to some officers. She smiled to see his overuse of hand gestures as he explained his conversation to the other men. The mannerism seemed so familiar to her already. The way he used his hands to aid his words amused and softened her. It was something she had not seen so exaggerated in a person before. Something that she knew she would always see as uniquely Samuel if she had to pick him out in a crowd.

  He met her gaze.

  The concentrated look immediately left his face and was replaced with a flash of pleasure and then, if she was right, uncertainty. Their parting had been unpleasant, to say the least, and now she was sorry. Neither of them had the right to waste time on trivial arguments. Not now. Not ever.

  She slowly wandered towards him, her mind scrambling for the right thing to say. How to apologise, but not have him reassert his request that she remain in New York. The notion was impossible and, anyway, she’d now written to Elizabeth confirming she would return in two weeks if she would be generous enough to send funds to enable Amelia to find room and board now that all of her possessions had been lost.

  But every time she looked at Samuel, her stomach knotted and her heart hitched with love. His morality and ethics, his devotion to his family and friends, even his pursuit of her and his excitement for their futures attracted her. His dreams were vast, and she applauded him for that more than he could know, but how was she to trust him? To stay in a strange land with a strange man was madness, but part of her understood just how wonderful it would be to start life again where no one knew them.

  ‘Hello.’

  She looked into his eyes and her heart softened to see such affection in his. ‘Hello.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve just sent a message to Elizabeth. If she didn’t know before, she’ll soon know of the sinking and that I am safe.’ Her smile dissolved. ‘I also told her there has been no sign of Mr Weir.’

  Samuel’s sad gaze slid gently over her face before he offered his arm. ‘Walk with me?’

  She hesitated and then slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, unable to entirely ignore how natural it felt to walk with him this way.

  Just the two of them.

  Thirty-Five

  Samuel led Amelia along the Carpathia’s deck, passing crew and survivors gathered to catch the first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty. His heart raced and his hands were clammy with anticipation – or maybe trepidation – of what awaited them once they docked. Maybe Amelia was right to be afraid to look too far into the future, to think that they might not have the right to make plans or pursue dreams.

  Yet, he could not lessen the certainty that his destiny lay in the great lands of America.

  Whether or not she felt the first stirrings of what Samuel believed to be something special between them, he wanted Amelia to understand just how amazing a person she was, how much potential she had to make a difference in this world. His decision to explore the opportunities New York had to offer didn’t have to come with the proviso that she shared them with him; he wanted her to throw herself into the adventure by her own choosing.

  A loud, collective gasp broke his thoughts, followed by a burst of cheering and clapping. The faces surrounding him that had been so nondescript, so paralysed with shock and grief, now grew euphoric with relief and joy.

  ‘Quickly.’ He grinned and tightened his hold on Amelia, as he pulled her to the railing. ‘They must see the statue.’

  They gripped the railing and, through the thin mist that hovered around her, the Statue of Liberty stood, her torch held high and the spikes of her golden head piece glinting in the hazy sunshine.

  ‘My God, there she is.’ He turned to Amelia. ‘Can you see her?’

  Amelia stared in the direction of the Statue, her fac
e expressionless before she smiled, her mouth stretching wider and wider. She looked at him and the happiness in her eyes took his breath away. Words lodged in Samuel’s throat as hope rose in his chest.

  ‘She’s beautiful, Samuel. Truly beautiful.’

  So are you. ‘Isn’t she just?’ He dragged his gaze away from her to stare across the water, his heart pounding. Did she feel it now? Feel the opportunity? The intensity of their God-given gift to live on? To do more? See more? Love more…

  ‘What does she represent?’ Amelia asked. ‘I should probably know, but I don’t.’

  ‘Freedom.’ He turned, pride swelling inside him. ‘The abolition of slavery. Opportunity. New beginnings.’ He hesitated and then leapt into the fire and touched her face. ‘What is possible… for us.’

  She looked deep into his eyes. ‘Samuel…’

  He slowly dipped his lips towards hers, giving her ample opportunity to lean back and reject his kiss. Instead, she came forward. Her mouth touched his, tentatively at first, and then she pressed her body closer and he moved his hand from her face to cradle the back of her head. He deepened their kiss and she responded, a soft murmur escaping from somewhere deep inside of her.

  After all too brief a time, he reluctantly pulled back, not wanting to push his luck. Her eyes were glazed, but also filled with passion and fire. He slipped his hand into hers. ‘So? What do you think?’

  She smiled. ‘About the kiss? Or the Statue of Liberty?’

  ‘Either.’ He laughed and brushed a fallen curl from her brow.

  Her gaze lingered on his mouth before she stared towards the Statue. ‘I think you’re right. I was foolish to believe I could continue with my work in New York as I intended. Everything has changed. Possibly forever.’ She faced him. ‘We survived and, as you said, for some reason, God put our lives above others. We owe it to Him and them to do all we can to uncover the reasons why.’

  Relief powered through him making it impossible to resist kissing her again. This time, she pulled him close, kissing him until he thought he might lose the ability to breathe.

  When she stepped back, her eyes glittered with hope. ‘I’m no longer saying no to you about staying in New York, but I’m not making any promises either. I have little money and means. Elizabeth will most likely be good enough to send me sufficient money for the two weeks I am supposed to be here, but after that—’

  ‘I have money at home. We will find somewhere to stay and I’ll ask my mother to send me some of the money I have put by. She might not like it, but she knows that money is my earnings, not hers. I will see you are all right, Amelia. I promise.’

  Slowly her smile dissolved. ‘It’s that sentiment that worries me.’

  Confused, he touched his finger to her chin, lifting her eyes to his. ‘That I want to take care of you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But why? We are both stepping into the unknown. If my caring for you bothers you, don’t consider it as me looking after you, but sharing something with you.’

  ‘But don’t you see? If I let you look after me this way, you are pursuing the same life as you did in England. Nothing would have changed for you. Once more, you are financially responsible for someone else. I don’t want that for you and I’m sure, once you’re thinking clearly, you won’t want it for yourself.’

  ‘I have never thought more clearly in my life.’ He took her hand and held it to his chest, praying that she heard him. ‘My mother and sisters weren’t my responsibility by choice, they became my responsibility when Dad passed. This, us, is entirely different. I want to look after you. I want to share in this adventure with you, however long it lasts. I’m not asking that you pledge your life to me. Just step into the arena with me. After that, destiny will take over, but I really believe we have to at least try for the lives we’ve always dreamed of.’ Tears pricked his eyes. ‘God knows I owe Archie that much, at least.’

  She squeezed his hand. ‘I know you do, and I’d never stand in your way, but…’ She studied him, uncertainty alight in her dark brown eyes. Then she curtly nodded, her gaze dark with determination. ‘I will stay two weeks and think of adventure and opportunity but, after that time, if I want to return to Pennington’s, that is what I will do.’

  Disappointment threatened, but he wouldn’t push her. Wouldn’t risk her being beside him out of obligation rather than desire. ‘Of course.’

  ‘You promise me that when the end of the two weeks grows close, you’ll respect my decision? Whether that be to stay or go?’

  ‘Yes.’ He swallowed, his heart a panicked beat that there was every chance in fourteen days, he’d never lay eyes on this woman again. ‘I promise.’

  Thirty-Six

  Ruby stuffed the rest of her belongings into her carpet bag, before standing back from the bed. She crossed her arms. Now packed and ready, she just had to get Tommy sorted out before their mother returned from wherever she’d chosen to go that evening.

  Dinner had been torturous. Somehow, she’d managed to finish her meal despite planning to leave the house within the next two hours. A maelstrom of guilt, fear and misplaced worry for what might befall her mother had unexpectedly swirled inside Ruby’s heart and conscience. Somehow, she’d found the inner strength to tolerate her mother’s jibes and criticisms from across the table, fully aware the hour that stretched like three might be the very last she’d ever have to spend in her mother’s company.

  As was usual once she’d eaten her fill, her mother had stood from the table, grabbed her cigarettes and purse with a shout over her shoulder for Ruby and Tommy to get into bed and not wait up.

  Neither of them ever had, so her mother’s words were wasted.

  Leaving her bedroom, Ruby walked to Tommy’s door and gently knocked before entering.

  ‘How are you doing, Tommy? Are you packed?’

  Her brother turned from where he sat on the floor, his eyes wide with fear. ‘Won’t she be extra mad when she finds us gone?’

  ‘Mad?’ Ruby raised her eyebrows and ruffled his hair. ‘Why on earth are you worried about her being mad? Mad is Ma’s natural state. I don’t think I can ever remember her being anything but mad. Can you?’

  But Tommy didn’t smile. Instead, he turned back to his bag and put his bedtime teddy bear, worn and tattered through the upsets and tears the poor thing had soaked up countless times, on top of his clothes and few precious story books.

  ‘Hey.’ Ruby sat on the floor and pulled Tommy into her arms, pressing a kiss to his temple. ‘You will really like Mrs Lark. She is kind, sweet and funny. I’ll be able to cook us meals and tuck you in at night. You can come home from school and look at your books for as long as you want without anyone making fun or disturbing you. Won’t you like that?’

  His head bobbed beneath her chin.

  Fighting the tears that pricked her eyes, Ruby squeezed him and then pulled back so she could look at his face. ‘You have to trust me that leaving now is the right thing to do. Nothing is ever going to change if we stay here, Tommy. I want a good future for us both. Ma is getting worse and I can see no end to it.’ She held his chin between her thumb and forefinger, willing him to believe her. ‘Staying with Mrs Lark is just temporary until I can save enough money to get us a room all of our own. It won’t be forever. I promise.’

  His sad, pale blue eyes stared back at her and Ruby could’ve sworn she heard a splinter crack across her heart.

  Slowly, he nodded. ‘I love you, Ruby.’

  ‘And I love you.’ She pulled him close and a treacherous tear rolled over her cheek. Quickly swiping it away, she stood and pulled Tommy to his feet. ‘Now, let’s close your bag and get out of here, shall we? I bet you’re looking forward to seeing where you’ll be sleeping tonight.’

  He tentatively smiled. ‘Will we be sharing?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He grinned. ‘Then I want to go now.’

  Laughing, Ruby led him by the hand onto the landing, collected her bag and they walked downstairs. Once
in the hallway, she buttoned Tommy into his coat and playfully plonked his cap on his head. She pushed her arms into her own coat and stared along the narrow hallway and staircase, glanced into the living room. She shivered as years of violent memories assaulted her, re-filling her heart with the ugly resentment that lingered there like a stubborn bruise.

  Ruby liked to imagine that she loved Victoria, that she was capable of building a future with someone she could give herself entirely to. Yet, deep inside, she doubted who she was a hundred times a day. Was she really capable of feeling anything for anyone when her mother had taught her nothing but disparagement and degradation?

  Opening the front door, she put her hand on Tommy’s shoulder and walked him outside into the night. Closing the door, she dropped her key into her pocket, hating that something inside of her couldn’t make her leave it behind. Despite all that her mother had done, Ruby wouldn’t be able to live with herself if her mother needed her and she couldn’t access the house.

  If the call came for help, Ruby would be there.

  ‘Not that you deserve it,’ she mumbled as exhaled a shaky breath and urged Tommy along the cobbled street.

  They quickly walked towards Victoria ‘s townhouse on Laura Place, a pretty residential area where a beautiful, ornate fountain held centre-stage. As they passed the fountain, Ruby threw an imaginary penny into its waters and sent up a wish that this move was the right thing for Tommy. No matter what her mother’s actions, he loved their mother and Ruby would do all she could not to further taint her in his eyes. As long as their mother remained a safe distance from him and let him grow, that was fine. If Tommy wanted to speak to her again sometime in the future, Ruby wouldn’t do anything to prevent that from happening.