Titanic Affair
He pulled something out of the pocket in his skirt.
It was a revolver.
‘Plenty of these lying around,’ he smirked. ‘Plenty of everything, just there for the taking. Money, stocks, bonds, jewels - it’s a thief’s paradise. It’s a pity I didn’t have longer to plunder it all. Still.’ He jangled his pockets. ‘Can’t complain. Now,’ he said more briskly, ‘we’re going up on to the deck, and we’re going to go quietly.’ He waved the gun threateningly. ‘If you’re thinking of making a fuss, you’d better think again.’
Emily spoke in a lifeless voice. ‘It seems I have no choice.’
She hung her head and gave every appearance of being docile. It had occurred to her that Barker would have to put the gun down when he untied her bonds, and that that would be the moment for her to attempt to escape. It was important he thought she had given in, so that he wouldn’t be expecting trouble.
‘That’s it,’ he said with a leer. ‘You be a good girl and everything’ll be all right. I’ll get you out of this, never fear.’
He tucked the gun in the top of his skirt, then went round behind her to untie her ropes.
This was her chance.
As soon as her hands and feet were loose she stood up and spun round, making an effort to grasp the gun. But he was too quick for her,
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ he said, grabbing her wrist with one hand, whilst he retrieved the gun with the other. ‘There’s no way I’m letting you get hold of that.’
He jerked her round and pushed her in front of him, facing forwards, then twisted her arm up behind her to keep her compliant. He pushed her out of the stateroom and down the corridor. She could do nothing about it: he was holding the gun to the small of her back. Propelling her forward, he pushed her through the corridors and finally up on to the deck.
Emilia gasped as she stepped out into the open. She had expected to see a similar scene to the one she had left behind, with people climbing into the lifeboats in an orderly fashion, but it was like something out of a nightmare. There was no order or discipline, and the smell of fear was in the air. Officers were waving revolvers as they guarded the lifeboats against groups of men who looked as though they could rush them at any minute, whilst women climbed on board. As she watched in horror, one of the officers fired a couple of warning shots over the men’s heads. Women were no longer being coaxed into the boats. Those who would not go of their own accord were being picked up and thrown in bodily.
Ropes creaked. Rockets boomed. It was like a scene from hell.
‘My God,’ said Barker. ‘It’s even worse than I thought.’
Emilia stood, frozen with horror. But by and by her wits began to return. Despite the growing terror all around her, she was relieved to be out on deck. At least now she had a chance of escape - as long as Barker lowered the gun, that was.
But his hand did not waver, and he kept it pressed to her back.
‘Over there,’ he said, indicating a place further down the deck where a lifeboat was being loaded.
Emilia had no choice but to go where the gun prompted her to go. The crowds around the boats were getting unruly. The officers were shouting and swearing at the men to get back whilst the women got into the boats. She knew the time was fast approaching when she must try and make good her escape. Once in a boat with Barker she would be lost. He had only to knock her out with a well-placed blow, and in the confusion it would not be seen. Then he would be able to carry her, unconscious, onto the rescue ship - if a rescue ship arrived - and she would be in his power.
He pushed her over to one of the lifeboats.
‘Women and children,’ called the officers. ‘Are there any more women and children? Come on, miss,’ said one, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the boat.
As she started to fall into the boat, the gun was no longer at her back, and she saw her chance. As soon as her foot hit the seat of the lifeboat and she could gain some leverage, she twisted round and ripped the hat from Barker’s head. Without it, he was revealed for the man he was. It was enough to make him hesitate for a minute. Then, recovering himself, he waved the gun - but behind him, an officer cracked a revolver down hard on his head. He swayed, and toppled, and fell between the lifeboat and the side of the ship, straight into the icy waters below. In his haste to loot the staterooms he had not put on a lifejacket. With the weight of the guns and the stolen gems in his pockets, Emilia knew he would go straight to the bottom.
‘Lower away!’ came the cry.
It brought her thoughts back to the present.
The ropes creaked, the davits groaned, and the boat began its descent towards the sea. But she did not want to leave the ship in a lifeboat. Not without Carl.
Acting quickly, she launched herself at the side of the ship. She managed to find a hand hold on one of the lower rails and began to pull herself back onto deck, but her thumb was still bleeding, and her wrists were sore from where they had been tied, and to her horror, she felt her grip starting to slip. If she slipped she would fall, down, down to the ocean, exactly as Barker had done, to die of cold in the icy waters, or to be crushed between the unsteadily lowering lifeboat and the ship.
She redoubled her efforts, trying desperately to renew her handhold. She had a firm hold with her left hand but had to fight for purchase with her right. It was wet with blood where her cut had opened up and her fingers kept slipping. She swung herself from her left hand, trying to build up enough momentum to hook her right elbow over the lower rail, but the fingers on her left hand were starting to open with the strain. She closed them, gritting her teeth against the pain.
And then she was aware of strong hands reaching down, catching her under her arms and lifting her up and out of danger. As her foot drew level with the rail she pushed against it, giving an added impetus to her rescue. She was being lifted over the rail, and as she was lowered to the deck and her eyes drew level with her rescuers’ she felt her heart leap, before a warm feeling flooded her whole being.
‘Carl!’
Her eyes met his, and the relief she saw there made her spirits soar.
He lowered her gently until her feet touched the deck, but even when she was standing safely in front of him he did not let her go. His eyes ran over her face and body, drinking her in.
‘Emilia,’ he said throatily.
His hand cupped her cheek.
And then he dragged her into his arms and kissed her with all the fire of his being and she returned his kisses with equal fervour. They were both of them lost in their joy of having found each other, and it blotted out the nightmare all around them, until at last he let her go.
‘Emilia!’ he said. ‘I’ve been so worried. What happened? Where did you go?
‘It was Barker,’ she told him. ‘He must have eluded Hutton. He dragged me down to a stateroom and tied me up whilst he looted the ship. I tried to escape, but it was impossible. I had only one chance: to reveal him as a man when he tried to climb aboard one of the boats.’
‘Thank God it worked,’ said Carl.
‘And thank goodness you were there to save me,’ she said. She shuddered. ‘When my fingers started slipping, I thought I was going to fall.’
He took her hands and raised them to his lips, kissing them fervently. Then he noticed the mound beneath her thumb.
‘You’re bleeding,’ he said.
‘I tried to cut my ropes with a razor. I cut myself instead.’
He pulled a large handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it tightly over the cut. Then, when the blood stopped flowing, he removed the handkerchief and tore a strip from the side. Using the main handkerchief as a pad, he bound it in place with the strip and tied it in a knot.
‘It really ought to be cleaned, but there’s no time,’ he said. ‘I have to get you off the ship.’
There was a serious tilt to the deck now. It seemed to be slipping away beneath their feet. The stern was rising out of the water as the bow sank ever deeper, dragged down by the weight of water
it had taken on board, and they were finding difficulty standing upright. Emilia leaned her body to counteract the tilt of the ship.
She scanned the deck, but as far as she could see, all the boats on the starboard side of the ship had gone.
‘Come on, we’ll try the port side,’ said Carl.
Catching Emilia by her uninjured hand, he rushed with her round to the other side of the ship.
In her haste, Emilia tripped - and saw that she had tripped over piles of bread on the deck. Bread? she thought in surprise, before realizing it must be meant to supply the lifeboats. But by the size of the piles, although the bread had been carried on to the deck, none of it had gone any further.
She looked ahead of her again, needing all her wits to slip through the masses of people as they ran here and there looking for a way off the ship. As the crowds lessened in their natural ebb and flow, she started to ask herself how they would stay alive until help reached them, even if they could find a lifeboat. If the boats should have been supplied with bread, it seemed as though help must be a long way away. But how long? Was it hours away? Days away? And would it ever come? She did not know. But she would worry about that later. Right now, she needed to get to a boat.
She and Carl reached the port side of the ship, close to the stern. There was a boat being loaded.
‘This is it,’ Carl said, turning her towards him. ‘This is your boat.’
A cry of ‘Women and children only,’ rang out in the night.
‘No. I’m not going unless you go,’ she said.
‘Yes, you are. You are going to do exactly as I tell you. You are going to get in that boat, if I have to lift you in myself.’
‘No,’ she said resolutely.
‘If you think I’m going to let you drown you’re mistaken,’ he said, taking her face between his hands and looking deep into her eyes.
‘Carl, there aren’t enough lifeboats for everyone,’ she said. ‘I’m not going without you.’
‘Now listen to me. You’re right, there aren’t enough lifeboats to go round, but the wireless operators have managed to get off a number of distress calls and the Olympic’s coming to rescue us. She’ll be here soon. If I don’t get off in a boat, I’ll get off some other way. There are tables, chairs - all things that float.’
‘But the water’s so cold,’ she protested.
‘It doesn’t matter. It’s calm. I’m strong and I’m a good swimmer, and if you think I’m going to drown just when I’ve met the woman I love then you’re mistaken. Now get into the boat.’
‘Love?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Love. I love you Emilia. Which is why I’m going to put you on a boat. And why you are going to get in it. Because once I know you’re safe, I can put all my thoughts, all my time and all my energy into saving myself.’
She didn’t like it. She hated it. The thought of losing Carl was too terrible to contemplate. But she knew that what he said was true. If she went into the water with him, she would only be a burden. She could not swim very well, and he would have to expend much of his precious energy on helping her. Whereas if she was safely in a boat, he could save himself. Reluctantly she agreed.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
He kissed her softly. All his love went into the kiss, all his tenderness and affection, and she never wanted it to end. But it had to end.
He took her over to the boat, which had already been lowered, and was now almost at the water.
He cursed.
Emilia looked down. The water had risen, and was now no more than twenty feet below the deck. She could not help remembering the day when the seaman had tried to test the water temperature - was it really only that morning? No, it was yesterday morning, for it was after midnight now and so of course it was Monday. Even so, less than twenty-four hours before, the water had been seventy-five feet beneath the deck. Now it was twenty feet below. How soon before it would it be ten feet below? Then five … ?
She turned her attention back to the deck.
Things were degenerating still further. Though the orchestra played, there was an atmosphere of panic. Women were being thrown into boats. There were shouts of ‘aft’ and ‘stern’ as the lifeboats were lowered, and the crew called to each other to communicate which end of the boat needed lowering next. Though the boats were meant to be lowered level, there was now so much confusion it was lucky they were being lowered at all. The second they hit the water they were being rowed away from the ship.
‘Get away!’ the officers were instructing the sea men in the boats. ‘Row right away, or you’ll be caught in the suction when the ship goes down.’
‘Come on,’ said Carl, ‘there might be more boats at the front of the ship. There are two collapsible boats tethered to the roof of the officers’ quarters above the boat deck, I know. They haven’t been launched yet.’
They raced down to the other end of the ship, just missing another boat. But the collapsibles were being slid down planks onto the deck. With the deck itself being now nearly under water, people were throwing chairs and tables into the water … anything that could float. Others were making their way up to the stern. It was rising further and further out of the water. The ship was at an angle of forty-five degrees, and the angle was steepening every minute. Priests were giving the last rites as they hung onto railings to prevent themselves from sliding down the decks. The ship creaked and groaned under the terrific strain. And through it all, the orchestra played on.
Emilia marvelled at the musicians’ courage. They had made no attempt to save themselves, but had kept panic at bay until almost the last moment with their lively music. Even now, they were creating an oasis of calm in the middle of the madness. The music had changed, though. Instead of cheerful ragtime tunes they were playing a hymn. She began to hum without realizing it. It was, Nearer my God to thee.
As she and Carl drew near the bridge, she saw Captain Smith with a megaphone in his hand. Perspiration was running down his face as he continued to give orders, doing what he could to save the remaining souls on his doomed ship.
The stern rose further in the air. People were running up the deck in an effort to reach the top, pushing past Emilia and Carl, who were running the other way. The remaining lifeboats, if they could be released from their place on top of the officers’ quarters, were downwards, towards the encroaching sea. The ship was sinking deeper and deeper with every minute, and water was creping up the deck, but even so, the boats at the front offered the best chance of escape.
‘Do your best for the women and children,’ called the Captain to his crew. ‘Then look after yourselves.’
He himself made no move towards the last of the boats. He didn’t throw anything in the water. He stayed on the bridge. Emilia saw his eyes, and with a feeling of fatality she knew he meant to go down with the ship.
The collapsible lifeboat had now been pulled down onto the deck.
‘Get in,’ said Carl.
Emilia needed no second bidding. The deck was awash. The water was around her knees, and was rising steadily. She lifted one foot from the deck, but a wave caught her and knocked her away. Carl grasped her around the waist and lifted her in.
She landed in water which had washed over the side, but she was lucky to be in a boat.
‘And you,’ she said, reaching out a hand to him.
He glanced along the deck. There were no more women and children in sight, no one else who could be saved. He nodded. He lifted his foot in order to climb in, and then another wave knocked him off his feet, and swept him away.
‘No!’
She tried to climb out of the boat after him, but strong hands pulled her back.
‘He’s gone,’ a man’s voice said.
‘No!’
She fought against them, trying to break free. But at last she stilled. There was no more sign of Carl. Even if she left the boat, she would not be able to find him. But then told herself not to despair. Swept from the ship he might have been, but he was strong, and a go
od swimmer, he had said so himself. He had been wearing a lifejacket and he knew to swim away from the ship before the suction pulled him under.
He was alive. He would make it through somehow.
She clung on to that hope. Because hope was all she had.
Chapter Ten
The boat pulled away from the ship. Titanic’s bow was rapidly going down and the stern was rising higher and higher out of the water. People were sliding down the decks or being thrown into the water. The air was filled with screaming. Emilia blotted it all out. The screams weren’t Carl’s. They couldn’t be Carl’s. He must be safe. Anything else was too terrible to contemplate.
The lights were still burning and the orchestra was still playing as the lifeboat pulled further and further away from the ship. On board, she could see people still struggling to climb the sloping deck, but even if they reached the highest point she knew they would not be safe. Nothing could save Titanic now, even though the lights were still burning and the orchestra playing. It was doomed.
Then suddenly the lights went out.
It was a shock to see the brilliant ship grown suddenly dark. It was like a foreshadowing of the end. The ship was now no more than a black silhouette against the sky. Its propellers rose further and further out of the water as the bow of the ship went further and further down.
And then there was a terrible roar, and millions of sparks shot into the sky.
‘That’s the boilers,’ said one of the seamen on the boat. ‘They’ve come lose and fallen through the bulkheads.’
There were two more explosions, seemingly below the surface of the water, and then with a huge groan the ship began to break in two. Emilia looked on in horror as Titanic split between the third and fourth funnels, right down to the keel. The bow plunged forwards and downwards, disappearing beneath the waves. But the stern, free of the huge weight of the submerged bow, righted itself, and bobbed on the water. For a minute it looked as though it were going to float.
Emilia held her breath. The funnel broke loose and toppled. Then the stern began to sink, too.