She began kicking again in earnest, seeing how close she was to the surface, desperate to reach it, to suck in a lungful of air just long enough to give her the energy she needed to free her leg. But she couldn’t. It seemed the harder she kicked the more entangled she became. No! she screamed into the abyss. Not now! Not when she’d finally figured out everything. Not when she and Gilbert had everything to live for.
With renewed energy she kicked furiously, but to no avail. Spots began to form around the periphery of her vision, either from the cold or her lack of air. She was dying, and all she could feel was regret. She closed her eyes and thought of Gilbert, wanting her last moments to be filled with him and not fear.
Something nudged her shoulder and her eyes flickered open. Tess had unfastened her life belt and was thrusting it at Caroline. Her frozen hands missed it twice and Tess was forced to knot the ties to Caroline’s vest. She could feel Tess’s hands on her foot, the tightness of the rope lessening on her ankle. Caroline wanted to tell her not to bother, that her lungs were on fire and she was already dead.
But then her leg was free and Tess was pushing her up toward the surface and they were breaking free to a world of light and sound and air. She coughed and sputtered, turning her face away from the agitated water, trying to escape the constant splashing and screaming, the incessant reminder of how helpless they all were, each of them dependent on what little resources of strength they possessed, and on the kindness of strangers.
“Swim!” Something tugged on her jacket and she realized it was Tess pulling her away from the sinking ship, managing to free her own jacket.
“But Gilbert . . .” She searched the bobbing waves for her husband, remembering his broken arm. “He’s hurt—I must find him!” She began swimming back toward the ship but found her arm nearly yanked from its socket.
“No—you can’t. The ship’s sinking and it will suck everything under when it happens. We have to get away. And then we’ll look for Gilbert and Robert. And Ginny.”
A look of mutual terror and uncertainty passed between them, along with an informal covenant to believe the impossible, to hope when all hope seemed lost. Without a nearby lifeboat to head toward, they both turned to the open sea and began to swim away from the ship as fast as they could.
When it was clear neither one had the energy for one more stroke, they stopped to fill their lungs, instinctively turning around to watch the death throes of the Queen of the Seas. The Boat Deck was raised at an alarming angle like an angry fist above the waters of the Irish Channel as a giant wave began to wash along the starboard side, swallowing the deck and remaining passengers, a carnivorous sea monster with an insatiable appetite.
Caroline forced herself to watch, wanting to somehow pay her respects to her fellow passengers during their last moments, for them to perhaps find comfort knowing they wouldn’t die alone.
The ship rolled to its starboard side and Caroline imagined the giant wave forcing itself through the writing room and library, the grand entrance, the lounge and music room, stunning works of beauty and art that were being extinguished as quickly as a candle flame in a hurricane wind. Any people remaining futilely rushed up to the stern as if that might save them and then one by one the great funnels began to go under, and this time Caroline did turn away, unable to watch the final desecration.
A great roar went up, either the cries of passengers or the sound of the water claiming its prize, but it was awesome in its terror, and Caroline pressed her hands over her ears.
She and Tess bobbed alongside each other for a long moment, as if they were both waiting for the ship to reappear, as if it had all been some terrible mistake. Instead the water returned to its glassy aloofness, a criminal hiding its deeds under a false mask.
Small waves eddied out from the spot where the Lusitania had disappeared, pushing debris and bodies toward them. So many bodies, of adults and children alike. Fate had arbitrarily chosen her victims, sparing no one due to age or status, education or bank account. Too many of the victims wore incorrectly fastened life belts, their hapless wearers floating facedown in the water. The lifeboats that had somehow managed to be launched, some filled to capacity and others mostly empty, rose and dipped on the water in the near distance while a flotilla of debris carrying disheveled and white-faced survivors floated between them like lily pads.
A piano bench, most likely the one Caroline had sat on many times, moved past them, the unmistakable waterlogged figures of Prunella and Margery Schuyler listlessly clinging to it. Prunella shifted her body, trying to raise herself higher on the bench, jostling it enough to dislodge Margery’s feeble grip. Caroline watched for a moment longer, screaming out a warning to let Prunella know that her sister-in-law had slipped off, but Prunella didn’t seem to hear. Apparently unaware of what she’d done, Prunella didn’t see Margery’s lone bejeweled hand, the precious stones catching the sun’s afternoon rays, slowly slipping beneath the surface of the water, unheeded by her companion. Prunella looked around, bewildered as to her sister-in-law’s absence, searching for her erstwhile companion.
Her strident voice carried across the water toward them. “Margery? Margery? Are you hiding from me? You can’t swim away from me. It’s simply rude!” Her shrill tones faded over the waves, as the bench floated farther and farther away from Caroline and Tess.
“Gilbert!” Caroline shouted, her voice evaporating over the water. She glanced over at a pale-faced Tess, her lip bleeding where she had it clenched between her teeth. It was the face of worry, and Caroline imagined she most likely looked much the same.
“Are you all right, Tess?”
She paused only for a second before jerkily nodding her head.
“Thank you,” Caroline said. “For saving my life.”
Tess looked away. “I was just returning the favor. Besides, I didn’t do it for you.”
Caroline understood, knew what it was like to love Robert Langford. Knew what a woman would do to have his heart. She could feel no animosity toward Tess. Only pity.
“All right, then. Let’s go swim to one of the lifeboats. We’ll figure out what to do next once we’re out of the water.”
“But what if—”
“Don’t say it.” Caroline sounded much harsher than she’d intended. “Let’s swim, and we’ll worry about the rest later,” she said in lieu of an apology, already kicking her legs to propel herself forward. Her skirts and shoes made it more difficult, as did the life vest, but she needed them for any extra warmth they could offer. The life vest kept her buoyed when her arms grew tired and she allowed herself to rest for just a moment. She tried not to think of Gilbert without a vest, trying to keep afloat, his broken arm hindering his attempts to swim.
She pushed even harder, eager to reach the nearest lifeboat, which appeared to be getting farther and farther away. True to her word, Tess was a strong swimmer, keeping up with Caroline, her face set with determination. There was something admirable and oddly likable about the young woman, something that made Caroline think that if their circumstances had been different, they might have been friends.
Tess shouted, startling Caroline into taking a deep gulp of seawater. Coughing, she turned to look at her companion and spotted Tess heading away from her, paddling and kicking furiously toward an overturned lifeboat on to which two people clung. As she watched, one of them—a man—slowly let go and slipped beneath the waves without a sign of struggle or lament. The man next to him reached out, but his companion had disappeared.
“Robert!” Tess shouted, slowing down long enough to wave her arm before continuing on her trek to the lifeboat.
Robert. Caroline kicked harder, propelling herself in the direction of the boat, hoping against hope that Gilbert was with him. All she had left was hope.
Tess reached them first, but Robert’s gaze was focused on Caroline, his eyes and face light and dark like the half-moon as he watched her, as if waiting for a sign from her as to which way he should go.
Carolin
e’s fingers touched the overturned boat, slipping off twice before she found purchase. She felt Tess next to her, doing the same. “Have you seen Gilbert?”
Robert turned away, but not before she saw the darkness in his face eclipse the light. He moved and she saw a man behind him that he’d been clinging to with one hand, holding them both up as he clung to the boat with the other.
She tried to call her husband’s name, but couldn’t force the word around the lump in her throat. His head was thrown back, leaning on Robert’s shoulder to keep it out of the water, a scarlet rivulet of blood dripping from his ear.
“Is he . . . ?” Caroline managed as she moved toward her husband. Neither man wore a life belt, and she was consumed with guilt, knowing that instead of going to the cabin to get his, Gilbert had remained up on deck looking for her.
“He’s alive.” Robert’s voice was brusque, as if he were talking to a stranger.
Robert’s hand on the side of the boat was pale white, his grip slowly slipping, lowering him and Gilbert into the water, forcing Caroline to wonder how long they’d been clinging to the boat. How long Gilbert had been bleeding. And how long Robert had kept her husband from going under. “I’ve got him,” she said to Robert as she placed her free arm around Gilbert’s shoulder and kissed his temple, moving him slightly so that she and her life belt bore his weight. “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”
Robert forced words from tight lips. “Have you got him? I just need a moment.”
Caroline nodded and Robert pulled back, using his freed arm to help Tess up onto the side of the boat where she could hold on.
Gilbert’s eyes opened, those beautiful blue eyes Caroline had fallen in love with the first time she’d seen him, the ones that darkened in passion and turned up at the edges when he laughed. A stab of loss and regret stole her breath as he looked at her, and she wanted to cry, to mourn all the wasted days. Regret, too, over what she’d done and the sure knowledge that this was her just punishment for her sins.
Gilbert licked his lips. “I just . . . wanted . . . to see you . . . one . . . more . . . time.” He smiled at her, and his eyes closed as his muscles relaxed under her hand.
“Don’t say that, Gil. Please don’t. There will be plenty enough time . . .”
She didn’t finish her sentence. A large wave erupted from somewhere in the depths beneath and pushed at them, carrying with it a twirling mass of floating debris and wrenching Gilbert from her hold.
“Gilbert!” Caroline screamed. She held on to the boat with one hand as her frozen fingers from the other slipped and skidded over the straps of her life belt, desperate to be free of it.
Robert had already let go of the boat, the fear and fatigue she felt mirrored in his eyes. “Don’t, Caroline. Stay here. I’ll bring him back to you. I promise.” With one last look at her, his gaze as frigid and hollow as the winter sky, Robert dove under the surface and disappeared, the wave continuing to push them farther and farther from the spot from which she’d last seen Gilbert.
“Robert! Gilbert!” She called their names over and over as the debris and the waves separated them until she was no longer sure of where to look for them. Full panic took over as she continued to scrabble with her fasteners, her pianist’s fingers suddenly clumsy and thick, until a hand clamped itself over hers, stilling her movement. “Don’t be foolish,” Tess said, her eyes filled with tears and desperation. “Robert promised he’d bring back your husband, didn’t he? Don’t make him go after you, too.”
Caroline struggled just for a moment before she realized the futility of her efforts. She placed her forehead against the cool, slick side of the overturned boat, and pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t cry. Crying was for children, her mother had always told her, and for those foolish enough to cry for the moon and other things they could never have.
She wouldn’t cry, but all the fight and hope were gone from her. “So what do we do now?”
Tess squared her shoulders. “We hang on. We wait. And if you think God will listen to you, then pray. I’m afraid He’s all but given up on me by now.”
Caroline regarded Tess for a long moment, wishing she could believe in mercy enough to convince Tess that it existed. She found a tighter grip on the boat and let the cork-filled pockets of her life belt buoy her up, preparing herself to wait for someone to find them and pluck them out of the sea.
They both managed to hoist themselves most of the way out of the water and onto the raised bottom of the overturned craft, their clothes drying by degrees, the sun warm on their backs. Caroline lost track of time as they drifted without speaking, the Irish coast seeming to get farther and farther away. The sun moved across the sky as it did every day, making a mockery of the tragedy that had just unfolded. To some, perhaps, it was just another day, but to Caroline it was a day she was afraid she’d lost everything. She found herself praying the familiar prayers of her childhood, hoping that the God of her youth was as forgiving as she’d been told, and that somehow, miraculously, Gilbert and Robert had managed to survive. She held on to that hope, knowing that as soon as she stopped hoping she’d have no reason not to let herself slip soundlessly into the waiting water.
She became aware of Tess on the other side of the boat. Caroline glanced over at her companion, seeing Tess’s tear-stained cheeks and her fair skin beginning to redden in the sun. She should be wearing a hat, or her face would be covered in freckles. Caroline caught herself before she said something. Hats and freckles didn’t matter anymore. Perhaps they never had.
“Are you thinking about your sister?” Caroline asked gently.
Tess hesitated a moment and nodded, then rubbed her nose with her sleeve. “She’s all I’ve got left in the world. I couldn’t stand to lose her, too. She’s everything to me.”
Caroline didn’t care that the woman Tess was referring to had betrayed both of them, had stolen from her and was probably a German spy. The heart never seemed to recognize the imperfections in others, nor was one given the chance to choose one’s family.
“I’m sure she made it to a lifeboat. She’s young, and strong—even if she had to swim, she could have made it.”
Tess regarded her quietly, as if they were both thinking of Ginny weighed down by the fur wrap and the jewels, unwilling to part with them even if it meant her survival.
“And Robert?” Tess asked. “Do you think he was able to save both himself and your husband?”
Caroline nodded without thinking. “He promised. And I choose to believe him.”
Tess looked away. “I suppose out here there are worse things than hoping.”
They were silent again for a long while until a rhythmic thudding carried on the waves toward them. They both raised their heads, looking out over the open water. “It’s a boat!” Tess shouted. “Come on—wave and shout. Let them know we’re here!”
It was a fishing trawler, its deck already crowded with people wearing life belts and covered with blankets, two crewmen waving back to show they’d been spotted. Caroline tried to smile, but her worry over Gilbert and the memory of what had happened to so many people stopped her. She would be relieved to be off the lifeboat, but even she knew the journey wasn’t yet over.
She and Tess were helped aboard by crew members with thick Irish brogues who settled them on the deck with two chunks of dark brown bread and a blanket to share. Tess was shivering uncontrollably and Caroline moved closer to her, placing her arm around her shoulder to warm and comfort her. It helped Caroline forget about her own plight for a few moments, at least until Tess pushed her away to stand unsteadily.
“I need to look for Ginny. She might be here, or maybe someone saw her.”
She was right, of course. If Tess chose to believe in miracles, then she could, too. They walked together, arm in arm not so much for companionship but to keep themselves upright. The shock from the day’s events and what they’d seen had caught up to them, but neither one of them was willing to wait. They moved among the clusters of survi
vors, all but the youngest ones dazed and bewildered over what had happened to them. Most everyone was searching for a loved one—a husband, a son, a daughter. A mother. It was the same lament, a badge of belonging to a club no one wished to be part of.
Tess and Caroline answered each one before asking about Ginny, and Gilbert, and Robert, receiving the same sad shake of the head they had just given. They’d almost made a full circle of the deck when they reached a crew member trying to hold a man’s head and help him drink from a tin cup.
The man’s head was covered in dried blood, obliterating the color of his hair. But there was something about the jawline, the shape of the nose. Caroline held her breath for a moment before rushing toward the man.
“Gil—it’s me. It’s Caroline.”
His eyes flickered in recognition as she kneeled in front of him and gently lifted his head into her lap. “How badly is he hurt?” she asked the crewman.
The man shook his head. “Not sure, ma’am. Captain thought a wee bit of whisky could help.”
“Is he alone?” Tess asked. “Was there another man rescued with him?”
He shook his head sadly, then gave the cup to Caroline before taking his leave. She looked down at her husband and a black cloud seemed to settle around her heart. His face was too pale, his breathing short and erratic.
A stout man with kind brown eyes whom she remembered from the first-class dining room leaned over to her. “We’re headed to shore now. There’ll be doctors waiting, I’m sure.”
“Thank you,” she said. She slipped her hand into her husband’s, feeling the icy chill of his skin. “Gilbert? Can you hear me?”
He gave her hand a weak squeeze, and she almost cried then from relief, from gratitude, and the unspoken joy of answered prayers. Tess approached with a blanket and placed it on Gilbert, then stepped back, pressing herself against the railing as if to make the boat go faster.