A DEEP OCEAN OF SECRETS
Chapter Seventeen
At the bridge, it was frantic.
Captain Smith, Thomas Andrews, J. Bruce Ismay, Murdoch, and a couple of
stewards were in the chart room, looking over some blueprints of the ship that
had collided with the iceberg only minutes ago. "Water fourteen feet above
the keel in ten minutes. In the forepeak…in all three holds, and in Boiler Room
6."
Ismay was getting impatient.
"When can we get underway, dammit?" he asked in anger.
"That’s five
compartments!" Andrews replied, worried. "She can stay afloat if the
first four compartments are breached. But not five. Not five…as she goes down
by the head, the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads at E-Deck, one
right after the next. There’s no stopping it."
Smith looked at the blueprints.
"The pumps—"
Andrews shook his head. "The
pumps buy time, but minutes only." A look of horrid realization took over
his aging face. "No matter what we do, Titanic will founder."
All was silent. Ismay looked the
most shocked. "This ship can’t sink!" he stammered.
"She’s made of iron,
sir!" Andrews cried. "I assure you, she can. And she will. It is a
mathematical certainty."
Smith looked like he had been
gut-punched. "How much time?" he asked slowly.
Andrews took a while to answer,
looking at the blueprints. "An hour," he concluded sadly, "two
at most." All the color from Ismay’s face drained.
"And how many aboard, Mr.
Murdoch?" Smith asked slowly.
"Two thousand, two hundred
souls aboard, sir," Murdoch replied stiffly, softly.
It was a long beat in Smith’s
eyes. He looked at his employer with sadness and realization. "Well, I
believe you’ll get your headlines, Mr. Ismay."
*****
Back in the suite, there was
tension in the air. Ruth could sense it. There was a knock on the door.
"Well, I’d better go dress," she concluded. "Elisabeth, help me
choose." She dragged her daughter into the bedroom before she could
protest.
Cal looked at Rose. He opened his
mouth to speak, but then closed it. Suddenly, he slapped her across the face.
Rose’s head stayed in the position after she was slapped for a moment. The blow
compared to nothing of the blow her heart had just received about Jack.
"If it isn’t the little slut!" Cal hissed. "Look at me when I’m
talking to you!" He grabbed her shoulders roughly just as there was a loud
knock and a steward entered.
"Sir, I’ve been told to ask
you to please put on your lifebelts and come up to the boat deck," he
said, grabbing the white lifebelts from the wardrobe shelf.
"Not now. We’re busy,"
Cal demanded, staring at Rose with hateful eyes.
The steward didn’t listen.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Hockley, but it’s captain’s orders. And may I suggest
dressing warmly? It is quite cold tonight." As the steward spoke,
Elisabeth and Ruth emerged from the bedroom. Elisabeth was pale, the cloth
removed from her arm, the bleeding stopped, her hair hanging limply around her
shoulders. Ruth had put her hair up and changed into a green dress and coat.
"What’s going on?"
Elisabeth asked, nervous. The steward handed her a lifebelt, then passed one to
Rose.
"Don’t worry, ladies,"
he said. "I’m sure it’s just a precaution." Rose’s hurt eyes looked
into Elisabeth’s confused ones, but she didn’t say anything—they spoke on their
own. They knew it in both of their hearts—something wasn’t right. About the
iceberg, and about Jack.
Rose slipped on her coat, Cal his
overcoat, and they made their way out of the suite and into the corridor. They
walked up the Grand Staircase to the A-Deck foyer. The scene was surreal to Elisabeth;
first class women dressed in their elegant dresses, but with White Star Line
lifebelts over them. People acted as if nothing was wrong, but there was a
tension in the heavy air that wouldn’t go away.
Cal had other thoughts, not even
really noticing, carrying all of the lifebelts he had taken away from their
party. "It’s just the damned English doing everything by the book,"
he said. Rose looked like a sleepwalker, and Elisabeth just looked out of her
mind. She looked like she was dead.
"Now, there’s no need for
language, Mr. Hockley," Ruth said, putting on her gloves. She turned to
Trudy. "Go put the heat on in our rooms. I would like a cup of tea when I
return." Trudy nodded and scurried away.
Elisabeth looked around the
foyer. So magnificent, so beautiful…she saw Thomas Andrews standing on the
third step from the floor on the staircase, staring up at the dome. He looked
so sad, so helpless. "Mr. Andrews!" she cried softly to get his
attention. She ran over to him, stood on the first step, and tilted her head up
to look at him, grabbing the side of his coat in her pale, fragile hands. Her
hair outlined her face, her eyes gleaming on the brink of tears. He gazed down
at her, not knowing what to say. His graying hair shone against the light above
him. God, she is beautiful…his mind was getting the better of him.
"Mr. Andrews…" she
breathed, her voice soft and determined, her eyes searching his. "I saw
the iceberg, and I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth."
Andrews was having trouble trying
to speak. "The ship," he managed, "will sink."
Elisabeth’s eyes widened in
fright. She couldn’t have heard right. Titanic couldn’t sink! "You’re
certain?" she asked.
Thomas Andrews could only nod.
"Yes…" He trailed off. "In an hour or so…all this will be at the
bottom of the Atlantic." Elisabeth’s expression was now scared of what was
to happen. "But please, tell only who you must. I don’t want to be
responsible for a panic. Get to a boat quickly. Don’t wait. Such a beautiful
face…you remember what I told you about the boats?"
By this time, Cal, Ruth, and Rose
had come up beside Thomas and Elisabeth. The boats could only hold half the
passengers. "Yes," Elisabeth said quietly. "Yes, I
understand." Mr. Andrews gave her shoulders a squeeze and moved past her,
urging people to put on their lifebelts. Elisabeth stared at the place where
Andrews had been standing, lost in thought. Rose touched her arm softly.
"Elisabeth," she
murmured. Elisabeth’s head turned towards her, her mouth open partially in
shock. They stared at one another in sadness until a single tear streamed down
Elisabeth’s cheek. Rose engulfed her in an embrace and they stayed like that
for a couple minutes, too shocked for words.
Cal tugged at the sleeve of
Rose’s pink coat. "We have to get up on deck," he said irritably.
Rose looked up at him and nodded sadly. She let go of Elisabeth and they made
their way up to the deck.
When they arrived, the cold stung
their skin like a thousand knives. Elisabeth shrunk into her coat, wanting to
stay exactly where she was. But Cal grabbed her arm and dragged her down the
deck, pushing past people to a lifeboat. All the while, she was like a statue,
not wanting to go anywhere or do anything. The shock of Titanic sinking had hit
her straight in the heart.
Ruth looked at the lifeboat.
"Will the lifeboats be seated according to class?" she called out to
anybody listening, particularly to an officer. She chuckled to herself and
said, "I hope they’re not too crowded." Elisabeth looked at her
mother in pure hatred. She was about to make a remark, but Rose beat her to it.
"Oh, Mother," she said
in disgust, "shut up!" She grabbed her mother’s shoulders and shook
them furiously. "Don’t you understand? The water is freezing and there
aren’t enough boats. Not enough by half! Half the people on this ship are going
to die." Ruth’s jaw dropped in front of her daughter, shocked at her
outburst.
"Not the better half,"
Cal sneered, and Rose’s head shot up, looking up into his eyes. "You know
what a pity it is that I didn’t keep that drawing? It could be a worth a lot
more by morning."
Rose’s mouth opened in shock.
Jack was third class. He didn’t stand a chance! "You unimaginable
bastard," she whispered. A rocket burst overhead, the flares bathing her
face in a warm glow.
Molly pulled Ruth into a boat,
and said to Rose, "You’re next, darlin’. Then Elisabeth." Rose took a
step back, shaking her head. She had to find Jack!
"Rose," Ruth warned her
daughter. Rose just shook her head. "Rose, get into the boat!"
"Good-bye, Mother," she
said. She looked at Elisabeth, who was staring at Ruth in confusion, and sped
down the deck. Elisabeth looked after her, then back to her mother. Cal sped
after Rose. He grabbed her arm in the crowd.
"Where are you going?"
he cried. "To be a whore to a gutter rat?"
"I’d rather be his whore
than your wife!" she hissed. She tried to run away, but Cal held her in a
death grip.
"No! I said no!" Rose
hocked back her spit, then spit into Cal’s face. Just like Jack had taught her.
He let her go in disgust and wiped his face. Rose disappeared into the crowd,
desperate to find Jack.
At the lifeboat, Ruth was calling
after her daughter frantically as the boat began to lower. Elisabeth stepped
back in confusion and hurt. Her mother didn’t love her like she loved Rose.
She’d rather have Rose alive than herself, just because Rose had a way to
ensure Ruth to be rich. Suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach. Not loved.
Abandoned. At that moment, she wished she could just jump straight into the
ocean…and she knew that nobody would save her. She had never felt so alone and
heartbroken. Just before the lifeboat disappeared below the deck of the ship,
Ruth’s eyes fell on Elisabeth. They showed no emotion, and Elisabeth felt
herself starting to cry.
Suddenly, she ran. She didn’t
know where she was headed, but she knew that running helped her clear her mind.
But now there was nothing to clear. Her mind, her thoughts, were totally
shattered.