BETWEEN TWO HEARTS
Chapter Twelve

You gotta be out there
You gotta be somewhere
Wherever you are
I'm waiting
'Cause there are these nights when
I sing myself to sleep
And I'm hopin' my dreams
Bring you close to me
Are you listening?

Living among the green of the Barbour Estate should have brought a smile to Siobhan. After all, she was out of the city, away from the press, and no one knew where they had gone--which saved the harassing phone calls to speak with the niece of Titanic’s builder…at least for the time being.

"Do you think that there’s something she’s not telling us?" Eileen Barbour, who was doing everything in her power to make her sister-in-law’s niece feel welcome, glanced out onto the sun deck, where the subject was staring out over the vast twenty acre estate. Her husband walked into the room from the kitchen.

"Well, I have a feeling that we left in too much of a hurry from New York. She might have left someone behind."

"You mean?"

"I have a feeling that the officer she disembarked with has captured her heart."

"Sam…we didn’t give her a chance to say good-bye or to finalize plans with him."

"Can you blame us? The press were already hounding survivors and crewmen. They would have had a field day if they realized that she was Thomas’ niece and the closest person they could talk to in lieu of him." He walked into the kitchen and greeted the cook with a smile. Spotting the day’s paper on the table, he made his way over and scanned the headline.

"Eileen…they’re beginning the inquiry into the sinking today." Not getting a response from his wife, he continued. "They are probably going to want to include Siobhan in the hearings…after all, she’s the closest thing to Thomas Andrews that they’re going to get."

She stood and began to make her way over to her husband’s side. "When do you think they’ll realize she’s living with us?" Her question was answered not a moment later when they both heard a knock at the door. They met each other’s gazes and began to make their way to the foyer, hoping to intercept the butler before he showed whoever was at the door into the receiving parlor.

About thirty seconds later, they came into the foyer and saw that the butler had already opened the door and greeted the visitor. "I’m looking for Siobhan Andrews," the visitor said.

Before the butler was able to speak, however, Sam was able to intercept him. "She is not entertaining visitors at this time," he said while advancing on the door, Eileen moving right behind him.

"I need to speak with her about a manner of the utmost importance, sir."

"I do apologize, my good man," Sam continued as he came up to the doorframe. "She has suffered quite a traumatic event over the past week. She is not taking visitors until she is able to deal with people once more. Whatever you have to say can be said to us. We will relay to her the message."

"Sir, I have been ordered to speak to her directly. This is in order to ensure that she gets the appropriate information."

"Anything you have to say to her you are more than capable of saying to us." It seemed that the master of the house was not going to be able to be swayed.

"Sir…" The man spoke with a warning tone in his voice. However, he saw that Sam was not going to be able to be swayed easily. With a slight hint of frustration in his voice, he withdrew a paper from a folder that he had with him. "Give this to her. This is a summons to appear at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel on the twenty-fourth of April to testify on behalf of her deceased relative, Mr. Thomas Andrews."

"I’ll be sure to pass this on to her, sir." Sam passed the notice back to Eileen and fixed his gaze upon the stranger on the doorstep. The visitor got the hint that he was not welcome at the house and quickly retreated to the vehicle that was waiting for him at the end of the footpath leading to the porch. The lord and lady of the manor turned and slowly went back inside, contemplating how to tell Siobhan about the recent news.

*****

"Are you going to tell her about this?" Eileen motioned to the paper that was in her hands.

"When the time is right. We still have a while longer."

They stepped into the kitchen and stopped dead in their paths. Siobhan was intently scanning the newspaper, whose headlines covered the outlook of the senatorial hearings into the recent tragedy. Her mind was focused on the content of the article so much that she didn’t even look up when the couple entered the room. Sam looked back to Eileen, who in turn moved the paper to an area that her niece couldn’t see offhand.

The looks on their faces only said one thing. Did she hear what we said?

However, Siv didn’t look up until Sam cleared his throat. "Oh," she said with a nervous chuckle in her voice. "I’m sorry…I was just…"

"It’s quite all right, Siv. How are you feeling?"

"Better…better than I was."

The people stood in awkward silence before the younger woman moved to sit down. The next thing she said gave away that she knew more than they thought.

"When do you think they’re going to be coming for me?"

"What do you mean?" Eileen quietly slipped the notice into a drawer while Sam kept Siobhan’s gaze.

"The people who are conducting the inquiries," she said while motioning with her bad arm, which was still in the sling. "They’ll want me to take Uncle Thomas’ place."

"We won’t let you go if you don’t feel up to it," the elder Barbour said while moving over to his niece’s side. "If you don’t feel you can face them…"

"It’s something I’m going to have to do, Sam." She looked up into his eyes. "I’m going to have to do it for Uncle Thomas. It’s just something I’m going to have to do."

He looked over at his wife and nodded his head, giving her the go-ahead to give her the summons. "A man from the government came by a few minutes ago to give you this. You are to go up in front of the committee on the twenty-fourth of April in the afternoon."

"Isn’t that the day we figure out if I can take this off for good?"

"That appointment is in the morning. I’m sure it isn’t too far away from the Waldorf-Astoria. We’ll just get you there right afterwards." She nodded and adjusted her arm within the sling. She had been told by a local doctor, off the record, that she needed to take her arm out once a day and exercise it in order to keep it easily mobile.

"Have you been doing the exercises that Dr. Johansson has been giving you?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. She definitely felt ready to get two arms back.

*****

I woke up today
Woke up wide awake
In an empty bed
Staring at an empty room
I have myself to blame
For the state I'm in today
And now dying
Doesn't seem so cruel
And oh, I don't know what to say
And I don't know anyway
Anymore.

Meanwhile, nestled somewhere within the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel lay a semi-heartbroken officer of the Titanic. Harold Lowe had not been expecting this type of madness after the sinking of Titanic, but it only showed that he had underestimated the public. After all, the apparently unsinkable ship had foundered under three hours after she had struck an iceberg.

Some could have said that was the beginning of the end for all of them.

After they had disembarked in New York, Siobhan had disappeared--seemingly off the face of the planet. Sure, she had said that she was finding her contacts…and she might have been taken away before the press was able to realize her true identity. Couldn’t she have tried to make contact with him?

"Okay, Lowe…it’s time for you to get up." He felt someone sit down right behind him and lightly hit him on his back. He knew instantly that it was his roommate, Mr. Boxhall.

"Joe," he said without turning around. "I’m fine. I actually prefer this…quiet…no press."

"Aw…come on, Harry. Look, Pitman and Lights have asked us to join them for a drink in one of the lounges. As your superior officer, I order you come along." The Welshman rolled onto his back and looked over at his friend.

"Okay…first of all, you’re only a step above me. It’s only Lights now who would be able to give orders. Second, that would be on the Titanic. The only unfortunate circumstance to this situation is that the ship happens to be on the bottom of the Atlantic right now." Even though Boxhall winced at the fact that the sinking was brought up again, he saw that Harry had a half of a smile on his face--and that was more than what he had seen since they had disembarked last week.

They would have continued the conversation, but a knock at the door prevented it from happening. "That would be Lights," Boxhall said as he stood up. "Are you sure you don’t want to come?"

"Go ahead without me," Lowe said with a smile. "I’m not in the drinking mood right now. Besides…I can get water here."

Boxhall could have slapped himself--he had forgotten that Lowe didn’t drink. He admired the man for making that choice and sticking to it. He stood up and went over to the door, meeting his friends on the other side.

*****

"Lowe didn’t want to come along? It would be good to get him out of the room--I don’t think he’s left since we checked in." Pitman took a drink and looked over at his companions.

"I’ve been trying to do so," Boxhall said while leaning back in his chair. "He just doesn’t seem to find any interest in doing normal, sociable things. All he has interest in doing is laying around all day."

Lightoller sat quietly, taking in the situation that was presented him. He hadn’t seen a strong spark of life from Lowe since…well, since he was with Andrews’ niece.

"Curious question," he said out of nowhere. "Has he spoken with Siobhan Andrews since we disembarked from the Carpathia?"

"I don’t think so…" Boxhall began, putting the pieces together.

"It’s her…isn’t it? We need to find her."

April 24, 1912
9:30 AM

"Siobhan, come on!"

Brushing a bit of dust off of her navy blue velvet dress, the witness went into a small jog in order to catch up with her temporary guardians. She felt freer than ever since the doctor had taken off her sling. Now they had to hurry to get her to that day’s Titanic meetings on time.

"Here we are," Sam said as he whipped around and opened the doors to the hotel for the women. "Come on…in we go…" Siobhan was instantly taken aback at the grandeur that was the Waldorf-Astoria. She had never seen anything like it in all of her life.

As she looked up, she felt a hand on her head. "Don’t lose your hat, dear," Eileen whispered in her ear, referring to the white straw hat she was wearing. "These people would much prefer it on your head."

"Sorry," Siv said with a quiet giggle. She saw Sam go over to the receptionist, who motioned him over to an elevator. She presumed that the elevator operator would be able to take them to where they needed to go.

It was only a few minutes until they managed to reach the conference room that was jam-packed with press, survivors, and the congressmen on the committee. Siobhan, Sam, and Eileen exited the elevator and could see that there was indeed a lot of commotion. Cameramen turned to face the trio and they began snapping a lot of pictures.

"Miss Andrews!" She turned to see Mr. Fleet walking towards the commotion. She had met him once during the voyage. She had developed a liking of the man, taking a fond liking to his sometimes obscure sense of humor.

"Mr. Fleet…it’s good to see you again. I’m sorry it has to be under such strenuous circumstances."

"I agree," he said before kissing her hand. "I’m sorry to hear about your uncle. Such a tragic loss."

"Yes. I’m anxious to get back to Aunt Helen and Elba." She didn’t notice, but Sam and Eileen had quietly ducked out, sensing that they weren’t needed for the time being. They were going to pass the day in the city until they were needed to retrieve their charge, whom they had come to love as a daughter.

"Well," Siobhan said, "it seems that the proceedings will begin soon. Shall we make our way into the conference room?" Mr. Fleet didn’t say anything, but he motioned for her to go ahead. They both entered among the chaos and, unbeknownst to both of them--and the vast majority of the people in the room--she was about to become one of the happiest women in New York.

*****

He's soft to the touch
But frayed at the end he breaks
He's never enough
And still he's more than I can take
Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
He's such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster?

Lowe and Lightoller, the two officers who were assigned to testify that day, were sitting quietly in the witness section, waiting for the day’s hearings to begin. Lightoller, being the more observant of the two, looked over at the door, and what he saw made his heart skip a beat.

"Lowe."

The younger officer had not been sleeping really well over the past couple of days; the stress of everything in his life was displacing what should have been deep and relaxing sleep. All of the officers had been sleeping in a similar pattern. Lightoller, being the eldest officer, had done all he could to remain a support system to the younger three officers.

"Sir?"

"Lowe…I think an angel has just arrived for you." The younger officer followed his elder’s gaze and had to take another look. He didn’t recognize the outfit and the hair was tied up into a tight bun on the back of her head, but he almost instantly recognized the red hair…the red hair that was characteristic of the stereotypical Irish. He stood up. Was it really her?

The woman’s eyes caught his form and he could see her turn back and speak to Lookout Fleet, who was standing behind her. He could see his friend nodding, and almost instantly she whipped her head around. Without missing a beat, she began to make her way towards him--as quickly as she could, it seemed. She tossed all of the first class behavior that she had tried to uphold out of the window as she practically threw herself into his arms.

"Harold!"

In the process she lost her hat, but she didn’t care--nor did she care about the stares she was getting from the men in the room. Fleet picked up her hat and chuckled slightly as she practically threw herself at Lowe and he caught her. The look on his face was one that neither the crew survivors nor the officers had seen with the young officer since that night they disembarked.

The officer didn’t know what to say, but he did the first thing he could think of--which was to kiss her. "Don’t ever leave me again like that," he said, disbelieving that she was really back with him. "I thought I lost you."

"I won’t leave you anymore," she said, while drawing nearer to tears of joy. "I won’t…I won’t…I won’t."

And somehow, he knew that the words she spoke at that moment were the most truthful words he would ever hear from her. Ever.

And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster?

The End.

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