No Moon (10 page)

Phipps leans back and laughs and laughs before Mr. Briggs gives him a sharp look, and he stops. Nevertheless, my evening is spoiled.

The first time I heard the name
Titanic
was last Christmas. We had all gone over to Uncle Alf’s house. He was giving a party for family, friends, and neighbors. There was a young man, Patrick O’Connor, over from Belfast for the holidays. He’s the nephew of one of the porters at the market, who helps out at the stall now and then. Patrick could not take his eyes from Kathleen. Later she told me he’d said that he’s eighteen and has been working on the
Titanic
, helping to install boilers.

“Have you ever been to sea, Mr. Briggs?” Mr. Harris asks him.

“No, but my brother-in-law is a steward in first class on the
Olympic
,
Titanic’
s sister ship. He does the Atlantic run to New York and was on the maiden voyage last year. My brother-in-law says the
Titanic
is even grander than his own ship. There is a swimming bath, a Turkish bath, and a fully equipped gymnasium, as well as a squash court. Imagine, some of the first-class parlor suites even have private promenades.” The drawing room bell rings, and Mr. Briggs pushes his chair back, saying, “On your feet, Phipps. Time to bring in the sherry.”

Mrs. Porter asks, “Where is Nanny Mackintosh’s cocoa, Croft?” I take the tray Croft hands me, wondering what my duties will be when everyone in the nursery is away. I’d happily scrub and scour every room in the house–and there are some I have never been inside–rather than go on a sea voyage. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be surrounded by so much water! I worry about Miss Alexandra, in particular. She can be willful and needs more than one pair of eyes to stop her running off in search of adventures.
Suppose she falls overboard?
I have never seen Nanny Mackintosh vary her slow, deliberate gait….

Next day, Mrs. Ransom puts up the servants’ schedule. The nurseries are to be whitewashed and
papered from April 11–15, then Good and I will spring-clean after the workmen have left. The holiday list is up too–mine is from April 20–27. I wasn’t expecting a week until the end of my first year in June, but as the family is away, I suppose that is a convenient time.
Won’t Mother and Emily be happy?
Kath and I have managed to meet only twice on my evenings off lately, so she’ll be excited at my being home too. I’ll no doubt be hearing more about Patrick O’Connor. On our last walk, she did not stop talking about him the whole time!

“Lou, Patrick says his feelings for me are serious, and I like him too. He writes to me at the salon. He’ll be going on the one-day sea trial for the
Titanic
, setting off from Belfast on April 2nd to make sure the ship is ready for the maiden voyage. He’s been taken on as stoker and hopes the crew will get shore leave before they sail to America. If he does, he plans to come to London and spend the day with me!

“After he returns from America, he is going to ask Father’s permission for us to walk out together. He doesn’t think it right that we meet in secret! In some ways, he is quite old-fashioned, almost as bad as Father. Oh, Lou, don’t you think Patrick is awfully handsome?”

“But, Kathleen, you would never marry a sailor, would you? You’d hardly ever see him, and what
about all your dreams of having a career and the salon?” She is not much older than me!

“I can do both, can’t I? This is 1912; the world is not like it used to be. We can do anything we want. When I marry Patrick, you will be my bridesmaid, and I shall make you the most wonderful hat in London. It’s all ahead of us, Lou–the whole world!”

“There will be nothing at all ahead for me if I’m late getting back. I’m happy for you, Kath, but don’t be in too much of a hurry, will you?”

On the morning of Friday, April 5, Nanny is getting ready for her day off. I have just finished sorting out the toy box and have set aside a few toys for the children to take on the voyage. I am still sitting on the floor, and Miss Alexandra and Miss Portia clamber over me, squabbling over a teddy bear. I take no notice until Nanny comes out of her room, glaring at us. She claps her hands, startling the children.

“Really, Gardener, sometimes I despair of you ever remembering your place! Girls, go and sit at the table in silence and fold your hands. Gardener, it is almost time for your walk. Take the nursery umbrella; it looks like rain. I am about to leave.”

“Yes, Nanny, have a pleasant day.”
It is so much nicer in the nursery when she is not here!

Nanny Mackintosh sails out dressed in black. She will be in mourning for a year, on account of her
father. I notice the hem of her black skirt is longer than the customary uniform she wears.

Suddenly I hear a cry and a thud, as if a box or trunk has been dropped. I did not see Nanny carrying anything other than her umbrella and rush out to see what has happened. To my dismay, Nanny Mackintosh lies crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. I close the gate at the top and run down to her. Nanny’s face is white, one leg is bent unnaturally beneath her, and she holds her arm, moaning in pain.

“Don’t try to move, Nanny, I’m going for help!” Luckily, Dean is downstairs, dusting. She calls Mrs. Ransom. Mr. Briggs and Phipps arrive moments later, and Mrs. Ransom tells them to carry Nanny into her own parlor and to inform Lady Milton. No doubt the doctor will be sent for.

“Did you see what happened, Gardener?”

“No, Mrs. Ransom. I heard Nanny fall and came to see if I could help.”

“Nanny Mackintosh will be looked after. Return to your duties, please,” she says.

I go back up, reluctantly, wishing I could stay to find out what the doctor says. This mishap will not improve Nanny’s temper, I’m afraid. I hope she is not in too great discomfort.

As soon as we reach the park, the nannies ask me to sit down, curious to find out why Nanny Mackintosh
is not here to learn about Nanny Gilbert’s new knitting stitch. They manage to pry the story of the accident out of me. Their conjectures, sympathy, advice, and tut-tutting last until a spring shower sends us all on our way.

Dean is waiting. She says I am wanted in the drawing room and she will take the girls back upstairs. “I hope Lady Milton won’t keep you long, Gardener. Mrs. Porter is in a state, all behind with her dinner. Croft and I are trying to be in three places at once, what with the doctor requiring tea, prescriptions to be collected, and a bed to be made up for Nanny downstairs.” I hurry away, patting my hair in place as I go.

“You wish to see me, Lady Milton?” I ask, as I enter the room. Mrs. Ransom stands next to her ladyship, and both look gravely at me. I can’t think what I may have done wrong!

Lady Milton says, “You will be sorry to hear that Nanny Mackintosh has broken both her wrist and her ankle. She will be unable to use the stairs for some time and will be staying downstairs with Mrs. Ransom. As we sail in five days, this comes at a most inconvenient time. I am reluctant to hire anyone new to take Nanny’s place at such short notice.” She looks at Mrs. Ransom for confirmation, and the housekeeper murmurs something to Lady Milton, who nods. I wait, growing more nervous by the second.

“The children are accustomed to you, Gardener. You have made an excellent impression both on my husband and my mother…and so, despite your youth, we have decided that you will accompany us in Nanny’s stead.”

I am too shocked and horrified to manage more than a few stuttered words. “But, ma’am, I mean, Lady Milton…”
How can I explain that I would do anything for the children, except to go on an ocean voyage?
“Please don’t make me go!” I try to speak the words, but they go unheeded, unheard.
Did I actually voice them?

“Very well, Gardener, I will leave the details for Mrs. Ransom to explain.” She sweeps out, and I just have enough presence of mind to remember to open the door for her.

“I hope you appreciate what an exceptional opportunity you have been offered, Gardener. You will be the envy of the servants’ hall,” the housekeeper says.

I would welcome any one of them to go instead of me.
I must try and explain to Mrs. Ransom before it is too late!

“Please, Mrs. Ransom, I would much prefer to stay and spring-clean the nurseries.”

“That will do, Gardener. Your preferences are of no consequence. You have my permission to take tomorrow afternoon and evening off to see your
family. You will return at nine o’clock, as usual. Your annual holiday will be postponed.

“I am informed by her ladyship that you will share a suite with Hart and the young ladies. Nanny Mackintosh’s misfortune has placed you in a position beyond anything a girl of your station and age could ever hope for. No wonder you are tongue-tied. Let us hope you do not let us down! That will be all for the present; you may go.”

I do not sleep a wink the whole night.
If only I can find a way out!
I almost wish I had the courage to run away.
Could I tell Mother and Father that I want to stay home after all?

W
hen I arrive home next day, Mother takes one look at my face and sends Emily upstairs to play with George. She pours us both cups of tea and sits down facing me.

“It is not your day off and I can see you are upset. There’s no need to be afraid, Lou. Tell me the truth, and I’ll stand by you if you’re in some kind of trouble. Have they dismissed you? Without a character reference, is that it?” I can’t help it, my eyes fill with tears.

“If it was only that, Mother…” I take a deep breath, and my words pour out in a rush. “I am to go to America, to sail on the maiden voyage of the
Titanic
. Nanny Mackintosh has had an accident, and I’m to take her place. Mother, I can’t–don’t make me go!”

Mother understands, doesn’t she?
She must–nothing escapes her about any of us!

Mother lifts her tea to her lips, sips, and puts it down again. She wraps her hands around the mug as if to warm them. Then she looks up and our eyes meet. In that instant, I know she is thinking of another day, when no amount of tea could bring comfort. She does understand. I knew she would!

“If you can’t go, it is only fair to let Lady Milton know at once, Lou, so that she may hire someone else. But is that what you really want? I thought you had settled down nicely. I’m sure there’s no end of girls who would jump at the chance of taking your place. Are you going to come running home like this forever because of what happened? It was an accident, Lou. There isn’t a day goes by that I’m not reminded of Johnny. I’ve had to get on with life; we all have. If I thought there was any danger, I’d do my best to stop you going so far away. But you’ll be home safe and sound in less than a month. You have to make up your own mind, Louisa, I can’t do it for you. Here’s Father. Let’s see what he thinks about your going.”

My father walks into the kitchen. “Now that’s a nice surprise. Not your day off, is it, Lou?” Mother tells him about the maiden voyage. I’ve a lump in my throat.

“Upon my word, they must think a lot of you! Going to America, where the streets are paved with
gold; and on the finest, safest ship ever to come out of Belfast? Aren’t you a lucky girl!” Father beams at me, his face shining with pride.

All at once, I make my decision. I have been given an opportunity to go farther than anyone in our family has ever been and to the other side of the world.
Isn’t that what I always dreamed of doing? To see what’s out there? To discover what I can do and be? Me, Louisa Gardener, the one in the middle, who thought she’d never get her chance?
I’ve got to stop being so scared of everything new that comes my way!

“Very well, I’ll go,” I say.

“Of course you will. Isn’t that what you came home to tell us? Or were you planning to tell her ladyship that the idea is not to your liking?” If only Father knew how close he is to the truth! He chuckles, as if at some great joke. Mother doesn’t join in. Her rough, work-worn hand covers mine.

“It’s natural to feel a bit nervous, Lou. And you, too, Flo,” Father says. “But that ship is a wonder. Close to a thousand feet she is, big enough to hold over three thousand people. They say she is a floating lifeboat, she’s that safe! Over three thousand rivets holding her together. I should know; aren’t I down at the docks every week? And the food that is going on board–thirty-six thousand oranges and seven thousand heads of lettuce, Flo!” Father carries on as if he were supplying the food personally.

When Kathleen comes home, the story has to be told all over again. After supper, Father suggests that Kathleen walk part of the way back with me.

“Good-bye, my girl, mind you keep safe and sound,” he says, and Mother kisses my cheek. She smiles so lovingly that I almost change my mind about going! As Kathleen and I walk away from the house, I look back and Mother is standing outside the door, watching us. She waves for a long time.

“I know what you are thinking, Lou,” Kathleen says, “but it is not going to be like those nightmares you used to have. The little girls will not fall into the water, and no one will drown, least of all you! Patrick says this ship is unsinkable. He’d not be down in the boiler room shoveling coal into the furnaces if there was any danger. He wants to come home safely, back to me!”