Once We Were (12 page)

It wasn’t unnatural these days to dream of dead people. They tormented him every time he closed his eyes. Cora was right. He couldn't save them if it meant saving her. He'd always choose her. Who makes the decision of life or death? What sick twisted deity decided his was more valuable than a child’s leaping from a ship? No just God would pick him. No one but his own selfishness. If he hadn’t been so desperate to get to a lifeboat and save himself, he could have found a child in the water and put it in the boat instead. He’d have died honorably with a clear conscience.

Rather, he saved himself and still done nothing productive with his life. Since Titanic’s ruin, he wasted his time holding old grudges and cowering in his house. He’d shown nothing to justify his right to live. Therefore, the dreams never stopped. He had a debt to pay. Now they turned to Cora. If they wanted to drive him batty, then he deserved it, but no one would touch Cora. He would drag their souls back down the Atlantic to protect her.

Time demanded a decision. Sunrise peered over the beach. He fixed Cora’s shawl around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don't have a choice.” He left her in peaceful dreams.

He started downstairs. Mrs. Dillsworth busied herself in the kitchen.
“Another bad night?” she asked. “I heard you pacing.”

“
I didn't mean to wake you,” Ioan apologized.

“
How would you like your eggs, sir?”

“
Mrs. Dillsworth, I beg you, get some rest,” Ioan insisted. “It's still early.”

“
What did I tell you about American women?” she reminded him. “Bricks, sir. Think bricks. Have some breakfast.”

“
How has your morning gone so far?”

“
Very well, sir,” she answered. “But I must say, the strangest thing happened to me on my way to the shops.”

“
Did the protestors trouble you?” Ioan asked.

“
They huddled outside the headquarters today. Something about compensation. They weren't bothered by me,” she said. “However, I ran into a peculiar young man.”

“
Oh,” Ioan grinned. “That's a right way to start a story.”

“
Oh go on, let me finish now,” she blushed, waving him off. “Anyway, he was looking for people. Missing passengers, he claimed. He had this book which he collected posters, but one photograph struck me funny. She looked a lot like your Miss Harlow.”

“
Miss Harlow? Clearly, he's mistaken.”

“
He asked me if I knew anything about her whereabouts and that I'd be handsomely rewarded.”

“
What did you tell him?”

“
That I'd never seen the lady. It had to be a mistake. It was very odd indeed.”

“
His passenger list is apparently outdated.”

“
He seemed quite sure and desperate. He claimed she was his wife.”

“
Unquestionably a hoax. People will do anything to take advantage of the situation. Don't tell Miss Harlow.”

“
Exactly what shouldn't we tell Miss Harlow?” Cora asked descending the stairs in a long black robe.

“
Who's coat is that jacket?” Ioan demanded.

“
Yours. What are you going to do about it?” she challenged.

“
If you knew how hideous you look in my housecoat,” Ioan remarked.

“
You bought the thing,” she said.

“
Can I have my coat back, sir?”

“
Certainly. Go jump back in the ocean and get my clothes for me, and I'll be happy to give it back,” she said. “Don't look at me that way. You should have listened to me. Did I not say I wanted to go back and get some clothes if I wasn't allowed back on the ship? Didn't I say that?”

“
Lawks, we've got to get you your own clothes,” Ioan muttered.

Mrs. Dillsworth grinned. “And that is an excellent way to
end
a good story,” she winked at him.

“
Only in his wildest dreams,” Cora replied.

“
You see what I mean, sir. I'm sure you'll be taking bricks more seriously now,” Mrs. Dillsworth muttered.

“
What’s that suppose to mean?” Cora asked. “Ioan, wipe that guilty look off your face.”

He cleared his throat. “You must be hungry, sir,” he said to Cora. “Take my chair, Mr. Saier.”

“Thank you, Mr. Saier,” she daintily seated herself. “Won't you sit down and eat as well?”

“
I've got some errands to run,” he said.

“
Oh, it's just come back to me! Mr. Spruce stopped by for you, sir,” Mrs. Dillsworth said. “He wanted me to tell you that your response has been officially accepted and that he will have the driver here as soon as possible.”

“
What response?” Cora questioned.

“
The deed to my father's house. It's sold,” Ioan replied.

“
Can't it wait until after breakfast?” she asked.

“
I'll be back later,” Ioan called from the hall.

Chapter 8

Mr. Luckett silenced the songbirds and sent butterflies fleeing for their lives. His heavy march wrecked the calm morning symphony. He swung his shotgun over his shoulder and the servants ran for cover.

“
Are you sure this time?” he ordered.

“
Beyond a shadow of doubt, sir,” Emmett hurried after him.

“
I need absolute certainty. I'll warn you now, Mr. O'Riley. You better be right about this or you'll be sunbathing as well.” Mr. Luckett tilted his head to the squirrel carcasses littering his courtyard.

“
You're an excellent shot, sir,” Emmett complimented.

“
I never miss.”

“
The nurse described her impeccably. Down to the last red hair on her head. The patient insists she is Beatrice Luckett. They found her in the alleyways begging for money to catch a train to you. Of course when she mentioned her name, they admitted her to the hospital. She swears she survived the Titanic sinking but can't remember how she got to New York. No one believes her. Nonetheless the details she gave cannot be faked. On her 13
th
birthday, before she left for Miss Harker's School For Girls in England, you gave her a flower press journal so she'd always remember home. She also claims you prefer strawberry tea but won't admit it to anyone. And the key to your upstairs safe is her mother's birthday backwards, with the first and second numbers reversed.”

“
Dear God! Mr. Hughes, get the car! Where is this hospital?”

“
Mr. Luckett, please, there's one last thing you should know,” Emmett stopped him.

“
No time for that now. I must rescue Bea from that Hell immediately. Mr. Hughes, don't bother with my coat, man! Just get the car!”

“
Mr. Luckett!” a gentleman charged across the courtyard. “A word with you, sir! I insist! Do not follow him to that hospital!”

“
Who do you think you are smashing my petunias and telling me what to do?” Mr. Luckett roared.

“
I am your lawyer, Mr. Jensen! Your
real
lawyer.” He glared at Emmett. “I can't let you do this. You've suffered enough. Leave your mind at peace, sir. You must hear me out.”

“
You're mad if you think I'm abandoning my child,” Mr. Luckett growled. He showed himself into the car. “Drive, Mr. Hughes!”

Mr. Jensen jumped into the front seat as the car rampaged out the courtyard. He opened the backseat curtain. “Sir, for the sake of your reputation, I beg you reconsider.”

“Mr. Jensen, we are finished here,” Mr. Luckett said.

“
Turn here,” Emmett instructed Mr. Hughes.

“
You haven't told him?” Mr. Jensen demanded of Emmett.

“
We were
unceremoniously
interrupted,” Emmett replied.

“
For Christ's sake, stop bickering like old broads and spit it out!” Mr. Luckett declared.

“
You started this. Tell him. Tell him what situation you got him into,” Mr. Jensen pressed Emmett.

“
I started nothing. I'm here to tidy up what you swept under the rug,” Emmett answered.

“
What is he getting at, Mr. Jensen?”Mr. Luckett questioned.

“
Sir, forgive me,” Emmett told him. “Your highly compensated lawyer failed you. I'm left with the uneasy chore to present you the truth. Your daughter, Bea, has changed since you last saw her.”

“
What do you mean
changed
?”

Mr. Jensen sighed. “We've arrived, sir. Remember me kindly. Your entire livelihood is at stake.”

“Sir,” Mr. Hughes opened the door. Mr. Luckett leapt from his seat and rounded the car. “Mr. Hughes, find me a lawyer with less estrogen,” he grumbled. He froze. His frustration melted to stupor as he gazed at the ghostly building. Old pine and spruce trees darkened the path that led to the structure. No signs or placards identified the place. It was likely to confuse public stigma, but everyone knew why it was there. Mr. Luckett couldn't move. Mr. Hughes joined him with his coat. His face was grave as his master's. “It is a long walk up that hill,” Mr. Hughes commented. “Perhaps we should try this another day.”

Mr. Luckett turned to Mr. Jensen. “You knew about this?”

“I considered the best, sir. I wish you nothing but peace. It is a burden no one should bear. Especially you,” Mr. Jensen replied.

“
I will remember you kindly,” Mr. Luckett said, turning back to the path. “You're fired, Mr. Jensen. Please see yourself back to your office.”

“
Mr. Luckett, I'm sure he had good intentions,” Emmett defended.

“
Don't argue, Mr. O'Riley. I favor your honesty over his kindness, but do not push me.”

“
Mr. Luckett, you have your answer,” Mr. Hughes said, quietly observing the hospital. “Can you bear going further? Think of your reputation.”

“
I've come a long way for my answer, Mr. Hughes. The truth never comes free. I fear it may lead to more questions than answers, but Bea must be saved,” Mr. Luckett said. He sighed and took a heavy step. His heart pounded but he held his head high, as a gentleman should carry himself.

A million heartbeats later, he reached the wooden doors. A small porthole window perched high on the door, concealing whatever dark secrets lurked the building. Mr. Luckett pulled the cold iron bell and entered. Emmett and Mr. Hughes followed him cautiously.

A deadly silence choked the reception hall. The air stunk with age. The staff tried to make the place look peaceful by installing polished mahogany floors. They added homely details like houseplants and a goldfish. Emmett reminded himself the goldfish was considered a pet, not a detainee. A velvet maroon sofa perched under renaissance paintings of cherubs and sun beams escaping heaven's clouds. The place had a way of turning peaceful paintings to morbid depression. These were the paintings hung over a patient's bed to ease his soul out of the world.

Quiet footsteps echoed against the walls. A spotless white suit approached them. “I'm sorry, but our patient visiting hours have ended,” he told them.

“I am looking for the doctor,” Mr. Luckett replied.

“
Dr. Thomas Fray, at your service,” the man answered. “What can I do for you, gentleman?”

“
Doctor? What sort of doctor are you?”

“
I don't believe I understand your question.”

“
My name is Mr. Darcy Luckett. If my sources serve me correctly, I have a daughter in your facility.”

“
The
Mr. Darcy Luckett?” the doctor asked astonished.

“
Yes. It is my understanding that a young lady claims to be Miss Beatrice Luckett. I would like a word with her.”

“
Sir, you have my deepest sincere apologies. I don't know who gave you such misleading information but there is no one here by that name.”

“
I've confirmed it with numerous sources.”

“
This is a hospital for incurable disorders of the mind. The ravings of our patients should not be taken to heart nor should they be reported. It is a strict staff policy.”

“
So there is a young lady here who claims to be Beatrice Luckett?”Mr. Luckett pressed.

“
Of course. There is also a lady here who claims to be Moses and a man who claims to be the reincarnate of John Jacob Astor and demands his fortune. I'm sorry, Mr. Luckett. It is very unfortunate you made the trip.”

“
Well, if there's a chance that one day a patient could be who she claims to be, I'll take it. I'd like to confirm it myself.”

“
If that is your wish, sir,” the doctor replied. “Do well to remember our minds can't give back what they take.” The doctor left them in the hall.

A head splitting scream pierced the hall. “Get off of me, you filth! Where are you taking me? Where is my father? I demand you take me to him at once! Father!
Father!
”

Mr. Luckett froze as the attendants dragged a deranged woman down the hall. She clawed them and tossed her wild and untamed hair. Mr. Luckett recognized her gown. He picked it as a Christmas present and sent it to England. It once was a pretty sky blue that matched Bea's eyes. Dirt, blood, and urine stained the shreds of silk. Mr. Luckett was appalled. “What kind of facility is this? Don't you bathe and clothe your patients daily?”

“The last time someone tried to clean her, she bit out everything but the occipital nerve in their socket,” Dr. Fray replied.

The woman stopped struggling. Her unfocused blue eyes searched the room frantically until they fell on Mr. Luckett. “Father?” she whispered. “You've come for me.”

Mr. Luckett stepped forward, but Emmett touched his shoulder. “Wait, Mr. Luckett.”

“
Father!” she exclaimed, charging for him. “You came for me!” Mr. Luckett stepped back. The attendants restrained her. “Father, don't you recognize me! It's me, Beatrice! Oh father, I'm so happy! You're just in time for tea. You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to join me for tea. I made your favorite.”

“
You-you remember my favorite tea?” Mr. Luckett asked carefully. “No need to mention it now though.”

“
Of course, silly. Lemon roach tea with a dash of bath water. I made it with love.”

“
What is wrong with her?” Mr. Luckett demanded the doctor.

“
Don't talk to him, father. He's the devil. They want to keep us apart.”

“
Why are you here?” Mr. Luckett approached her again. “How did you get here?”

“
I only dropped in for tea. They told me this was a tea factory and that I could have all the tea I wanted. Lemon and roach with a dash of bath water. It is only the best. But I don't take the bath water,” she said fearfully. “Stay away from the water. Be careful not to jump in it. It will take you. It will take all of us. No matter how fast you run, it will come for you. It won't stop. It doesn't care for money or poverty. I used to love warm baths. I'll never have a warm bath again. How do you like your bath water?”

“
Thank you, doctor,” Mr. Luckett said shakily. “I've seen enough. Apparently, there's been some mistake.” He stiffly turned to leave.

“
Father, where are you going? Don't you recognize me?” the woman cried after him. “It's me, Beatrice! Don't you remember?”

Mr. Luckett ignored her.

“Father!” she screamed, breaking free from the attendants. “Father, wait! It's me! Beatrice Luckett! Please don't leave me here!” She grabbed his coat desperately. “Please, father! It's me! It's your daughter!”

Mr. Luckett avoided her eyes as he tried to free himself.

“Madam, I do not know you.”

“
Father, please!” she sobbed. “Don't leave me again! You must recognize me! I'm your daughter!”

“
My daughter is dead!” Mr. Luckett declared, but his expression demonstrated more grief than anger. “Madam, restrain yourself!”

“
Father! I'm not dead! I'm not dead! Father, it's me! Please, don't leave me here! I've given everything to find you! It's me! It's your Bea!”

Tears stung Mr. Luckett's eyes. “I do not know you!” He slammed his elbow into her face. Her hands ripped from his coat as she fell backwards. Her head smashed against the wooden floor. Her eyes watered in agony. Everyone stared at Mr. Luckett. He couldn't hide the grief. He couldn't escape the humiliation. “I have no daughter,” he declared. “She is dead.” He marched from the building.