AN OCEAN OF EMOTION
Chapter Four
One Month Later
Ruth
Day in and day out, the same
routine played over and over again, as if I was stuck at a bad theater
production. I tried to hide my disdain from Cal, but he saw right through me. I
felt it best to continue on as if I hadn’t seen that photograph of my daughter,
but a mother knows her own child.
After eating breakfast in
silence, Nathan came over to visit his son. After taking him by the arm and
leading him to the library upstairs, they left me to stay alone. I knew Cal had
hidden the photographs and the newspaper clippings of the Titanic sinking and I
knew where he hid it after one of his servants had made a mistake while she was
cleaning. The girl was in the reading room, dusting one of the shelves, and the
box Cal had them hidden in fell to the ground. I watched through a window as
she looked around to see if anyone was looking. After being satisfied no one
saw her, she stuffed the contents back in the box and put it back on the shelf
behind some books.
I walked slowly towards the
reading room, hoping not to draw attention to myself. I walked by the library
and saw Nathan and Cal together, going over a stack of paperwork.
"So, you think she is really
alive?"
Cal turned to his father. I
stopped dead in my tracks just outside the door, aching to hear Cal’s response.
I could hear him sigh before he answered. "I don’t know, Father. I just
don’t know. The photograph Ruth had did look a lot like Rose, but I just can’t
imagine she’d dump all of this for that filth she met on board. I mean, look at
me. Look at this house and what we can provide for her. What can Dawson
provide? Soup kitchens and menial jobs in factories?"
Nathan sat down in one of the
leather armchairs in the room. "You never did tell me what happened."
I listened intently as Cal sat
next to his father and explained how Rose met Jack when she slipped off the
back of the deck of the Titanic looking at the propellers. "And the next
thing I knew, she was running away from her mother and me when the lifeboats
were being lowered. Lovejoy said he saw them on the other side of the ship. I
gave up my opportunity and his to get on board a lifeboat to find her. I argued
with her, had her convinced to get on board a boat with me, and instead, she
ran off with that filth after spitting in my face." I watched as Cal touched
his cheek where Rose hit him. "I grabbed Lovejoy’s gun and followed them,
hoping that if I at least hit Dawson, my life would somehow have meaning again.
But I missed and that was the last time I saw either of them. They ran off into
the flooded dining area." Cal stopped and a small smirk spread across his
face. "Fitting that that was probably the last time he’ll ever set foot in
a first class part of any ship."
Nathan took a sip of his brandy.
"I see. And do you think what Ruth is saying is true? Have you seen the
photograph?"
"Yes, I’ve seen it. It
resembles Rose in some ways, but I know she’s dead. Rose would never give any
of this up. She loved me. She loved everything. Why would she give it up?"
Nathan was silent for a moment
before answering. "If she were alive, she’d be here now. You know that as
much as I do. That mother of hers would see to it. Could you imagine her
working for a living instead of marrying off her daughter to a rich
beneficiary?"
I began to see red and wanted so
badly to storm into the room. Instead, I exhaled a breath quietly and listened
more. "Father, I just hope you’re right. Could you imagine the scandal if
this got out that my own fiancée faked her death to get away from the family?
How many other women are out there who would die to be in Rose’s dainty
shoes?"
I could hear Nathan let out a
small laugh. "Speaking of which, I have someone you might like to meet.
She’s the daughter of a new business associate of mine."
I left the hallway in a hurry,
desperate to make it back downstairs before I heard anymore. My daughter hadn’t
even been gone a year, and here Nathan was trying to pawn his son off on some
other poor, unsuspecting woman. I quickly grabbed my shawl and gloves and let
my servant know I was going out for afternoon tea with Mrs. York from next
door.
I had noticed in the paper an
advertisement for a man who claimed he could find anyone. I was hoping he’d
help me find my daughter. I had memorized the address of his business from
staring at the ad for days on end. After a brisk walk in the cool afternoon
air, I stopped in front of a plain, red-bricked building. His painting on the
window stated he was an investigator. I opened the door and at the jingle of
the bell hanging off the door, I heard a voice call out from the back of the
office.
"I am looking for the owner,
a Mr. Charles Andrews."
I heard footsteps approaching.
"You’re looking at him. Charles Andrews, at your service." He held
out his hand as he spoke. "What is a pretty lady such as yourself doing in
a place like this?" I shook his hand as he motioned for me to sit in a
chair next to his desk. After eyeing the dust and a crumpled piece of paper
lying on the chair, he understood what I was saying without words and wiped it
off with his hands. "Better?"
I nodded. "Thank you."
I sat down slowly. "I hear from your newspaper advertisement you can help
someone find a person who is lost?"
He nodded. "That’s my
specialty. Who are you trying to locate? A business partner? An old school
friend?"
I shook my head as I answered
quietly. "My daughter. I am afraid we were separated about eight months
ago after the Titanic sank." I dabbed the corner of my eyes with my glove.
"I miss her terribly. Her fiancé does, too. We’re afraid that she’s had a
case of amnesia and is unable to find us."
I could tell by Charles’
expression I had his full attention. "Your daughter was onboard the
Titanic?"
I nodded. "We all were. My
daughter, her fiancé, and myself. Our three servants didn’t make it, though. We
got separated due to a seating mishap on one of the lifeboats. I’m afraid my
daughter was terribly upset about the sinking and got lost. She didn’t make it
on board with her fiancé and myself. But I know she’s alive."
"What makes you say she’s
alive? Have you seen the deceased list from the sinking?"
I nodded. "Her name is on
it. But I saw a photograph taken at the congressional inquests not too terribly
long ago. She was there. It was a photograph of a friend of hers and her
husband, as well as my daughter. I’m afraid that her fiancé doesn’t believe me.
He still feels I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown, and maybe I am, but a
mother always knows about her daughter. A mother knows about her own child, and
my Rose is not deceased."
I watched as Charles’ expression
changed from intense to a look of disdain. "Ma’am, I am afraid there is
nothing I can do for you. If your daughter’s name was on the list of the
deceased from the sinking, then I’m going to have to be the deliverer of bad
news. She didn’t make it." I watched, horrified, as he arose from his
chair behind his desk. "Maybe your daughter’s fiancé is right. Perhaps
there is something mentally wrong with you. Have you spoken with..."
I stood up so fast the chair I
was sitting in flew back and landed on its side. "How dare you talk to me this
way? I came to you looking for help. I know my daughter is alive. I know she
isn’t dead. I just wish someone would believe me for once. I am not
crazy!" I was yelling so loudly I surprised myself. "My daughter is
not dead. If you won’t help me, I’ll find someone who will." I turned to
grab my shawl and walk out the door when Charles called out to me.
"You really believe she’s
alive, don’t you?"
I turned to face him with tears
streaming out of my eyes. "A mother always knows. If you had children,
you’d know that. My daughter is all I have in the world. My husband passed away
some years ago. Rose is all I have. I am begging of you, not only as a customer
who is desperate for your services, but as a mother who desperately wants to
hug her daughter again, help me. Please."
Charles stood stock still,
staring at me. "What do you know about her? Where do you suspect she
is?"
My face relaxed and my tears
dried up. "In the photograph, she was seen with a friend of hers she met
on board the Titanic. A Victoria Metcalfe. The Metcalfe girl married one of the
ship’s officers. His name is Lowe. Officer Harold Lowe. The photograph was
taken at the congressional inquests. The Metcalfe girl’s father is in the steel
business, as is Rose’s fiancé. Perhaps you can start there?"
Charles was writing a mile a
minute on a stenographer’s pad on his desk. "What does your daughter look
like?"
I closed my eyes to get a better
picture of my daughter’s appearance. "Rose has bright red hair, always
curly. Green eyes that could enchant anyone. Her personality is a bright one,
always smiling, always laughing."
"How tall is she? How much
does she weigh?"
I stood up. "She is about as
tall as I am and weighs about the same. We bear a striking resemblance. Our
hair color is almost the same, and even though our eyes are not the same color,
we do look alike."
Charles looked me up and down.
"I think I get it." He wrote some more notes and asked me another
question. "Any idea where they might be?"
I thought about the answer before
responding. "If Rose is alive, your best chance of finding her is to find
the Metcalfe girl."
He nodded and promised to be in
contact with me in a few weeks.