The Captain's Daughter (33 page)

‘I’m glad you’ve still gotten an American appetite, young man. You look just like me at your age. I would have recognized you anywhere. Has your mom found herself a new beau yet?’

Roddy shook his head. ‘She’s too busy looking after us all for anything like that. There was a kind man we met on the ship home. He’s taught me to play chess . . . Mr McAdam, but she doesn’t like him very much.’

‘I shall teach you to ride a horse and play baseball. You’ll love Akron. So many people are dying to meet you back there. I’ve got such plans for us but first we’ll make a little trip to the American Embassy.’

‘I’d have to ask Mom first,’ Roddy said, feeling swamped by this information.

‘Plenty of time for that, son . . . We’re going to have such a good time. I’ve finished my business early so we can get to know each other good and proper. I want to know all about your life and what you do at that school of yours. Do you play sport?’

‘I’m in the second eleven for Rugby and first for Junior Cricket . . .’

‘Those are English games. We’ve gotten the best pro American football team in Akron. We can go see them play if you like.’

Roddy didn’t know how to explain he’d have to go home soon, that term would be starting again. There was no time left to take a trip to America. ‘Thank you for the meal, sir,’ he said.

‘I thought we’d go see a show in the West End and Madame Tussauds, but first we’ll call in at the embassy. I have a bit of business there.’

They took a cab to a grand mansion house with marble stairs and the great Stars and Stripes flag hanging over the door. ‘We have to answer questions when we visit here. It’s a piece of home right here in London so whatever the man asks you, you must give a straight answer . . . understand?’

It was a funny meeting. They went into a room where the man behind the desk asked Roddy his name and his date of birth and where he was born and was this his true father and who was his mother and where did she live. The man passed his father pieces of paper and smiled at Roddy. ‘Enjoy your trip.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ he replied. ‘I am.’

All the touring and excitement made him very tired and hungry. He bought some postcards as souvenirs to send to Ella and Mom. He always had stamps in his leather school wallet. They went to see a musical, which was all singing and a bit sloppy. He could hardly keep his eyes open and fell asleep in the taxi on the way back to the hotel. His father was so concerned he gave him a warm drink to help him settle for the night and he went into a deep slumber.

When he woke in the morning he found himself in a railway carriage rattling along the coast with no idea how they’d got from the hotel onto the train.

‘Hi there, sleepy head,’ Pa smiled. ‘Welcome aboard.’

‘Where am I?’ Roddy asked, staring out half awake.

‘On your way home, son, to the U S of A . . . We’re almost at Southampton water. You and I are going on the trip of a lifetime. Back to where you belong on the White Star Liner,
Olympic
, no less, sister ship of the
Titanic . . .
what do you know?’

Roddy felt the panic rising. ‘But I have to go home. Mom will be worried.’

‘Don’t you fret about that . . . it’s all sorted. Your mom doesn’t mind. She always knew I wanted you to be educated in the States. She knows it’s for the best.’

‘But I haven’t any books. All my stuff . . .’

‘You’ve enough for the journey and when we get across the pond, I’ll be kitting you out in some decent clothes. Don’t you just love the idea of living back there again?’

Roddy didn’t know what to think. His head was fuzzy and his mouth dry, and he wanted to pee.
Had
his mother given permission? Was this a big surprise they’d thought up together? He didn’t think so. ‘Can I ring her on the ship . . . we have a phone.’

‘Sure, if you can get a line free. Why not send her one of these postcards. She’ll like that.’ He handed him a picture postcard of an ocean liner.

The train slowed down at the dock and a huge ship with four huge funnels rose up over his head. They were escorted up the gangway to a First Class apartment with twin beds, its own bathroom and sitting room looking out onto a balcony. He’d never seen anything so grand. Roddy bounced on the bed, excited but scared to be doing this without saying goodbye to his family and friends.

How could he get off the ship without hurting his father’s feelings when he’d gone to so much trouble to secure this passage for them together? They’d been apart for so long, perhaps he owed him this time with him. He could always come home at a later date. He sensed this man might get angry if he said he didn’t want to sail. Roddy was torn.

He sat down and wrote three of the ship’s postcards, one to Mom, one to Ella and one to Grandpa, telling them he was safe and with his father, and going to sea again on a vacation. He walked down the corridor to find a steward and asked him to post them before the ship left the dock. The young man saluted him and put them in his pocket, which made Roddy feel very important.

Later, Roddy stood on deck watching the liner slowly edge its way from the dock. He saw the passengers waving to friends, waving hankies, and he wished he could have his own family waving back to him. That was when he felt sick. Had he done the right thing? A flutter of panic rose into a wave and washed over him, making him tremble. Now everything was out of his control. He’d set this meeting up in the first place. His father had taken it as a sign that he was important in his life again. There was no turning back. From now on, he guessed, his life was never going to be his own again.

May was rushing round trying to keep the household running, taking broth up to Celeste, who lay prostrate, under sedation from their doctor. Red House was plunged into a black house of mourning. Everyone was tiptoeing around on the morning of the canon’s funeral, pinning on brave faces. May needed time to get Celeste dressed. She was so weak and exhausted, sitting on the edge of the bed shaking, holding the letter that had broken her heart.

‘He’s taken my son. They met in London and he says Roddy wanted to come back to America with him. I don’t believe it! Roddy was settled. How could he go behind my back like this? What have I done, letting him go unescorted to London? He doesn’t know what he’s doing. I have to go after him now.’

‘Not today you can’t. It’s your father’s funeral and you have to bury him as he would wish. That’s enough for today. Things will be clearer tomorrow. Let’s find your dress. It’s a beautiful day outside but it will be cool in the cathedral.’

Selwyn was interviewing policemen and phoning round to his former office in Birmingham to get advice. In fact, he was taking charge like it was a military operation, ordering them about. May had never seen him so bossy, but someone needed to steer this rudderless ship and she was glad of his knowledge of how to go about things.

Roddy had claimed his American citizenship. The police said they could not interfere in this domestic dispute. He’d gone of his own free will and would now be in international waters, out of their reach, in the care of his legal father.

One silly postcard had shattered his mother. On it was a picture of the
Olympic
, the identical sister ship of the
Titanic.
One look at it and Celeste had fainted clean away in the hall. May had stood firm at the sight of those funnels and bow. She never wanted to see that image again and pushed it out of sight. Then came the letter from Mr Parkes, claiming his right to Roddy as if he was a lost parcel in left luggage, and all this the day before the canon’s funeral.

‘Of all the ships in the world, he takes him back on that one! He will ruin my son, teach him to be a bully. His mother will spoil him. I have to have him back with me.’

Celeste was beyond reason but May sat with her until she fell into an unnatural sleep.

May’s next job was to be the gatekeeper, ushering out visitors if she thought they were lingering too long with their condolences. How were they going to explain Roddy’s absence?

The locals thought Celeste a widow, not a runaway wife. This news would be a nine-day wonder in the Close once it was known, so the longer they kept this situation secret the better. Who better than May Smith at keeping secrets? Selwyn would say nothing and Ella must be ordered not to spread any gossip.

Celeste was glad of the thick crepe veil covering her face as she stood to receive her father’s coffin. The cathedral organ boomed out, the congregation stood in respect as they followed behind it, and she remembered the day of her mother’s funeral and all that had happened since.

She couldn’t believe Roddy had deserted her like that, her only son walking out of her life as if she was nothing. Anger and sorrow burned in her throat. To mourn her father was natural but the thought of losing Roddy was unbearable. He must have been bribed, bemused by Grover’s attentions. She felt sick knowing how her husband had charmed her so easily. Roddy was an innocent; how would he survive back in Akron without her? How would he go from one world to another? He didn’t even know his grandpa was dead, and he was still little more than a child, and a devious one to hide all this from her.

She had so few rights in the matter. Selwyn explained that legally she was still a married woman. A custody battle would be useless at this stage. She was so full of hatred of Grover, so angry that Roddy had put her in such an impossible position. She’d worked so hard to bring them back to England and this was how he’d repaid her. The boy had no idea who he was dealing with. Grover wanted him as a trophy, a son he could control. He’d pay her back by making him into a miniature of himself. Roddy wasn’t used to that sort of discipline. How would he cope with Grover’s outbursts if he were to be disobedient?

As they were walking down the aisle she caught a glimpse of Archie McAdam staring at her with concern. He knew everything now. He’d turned up on the day of the postcard to offer condolences for her loss and had found himself in the middle of a maelstrom of confusion and tears. There had been no point in disguising from him what was going on.

‘My husband’s lured my son back to America,’ Celeste said, showing him the postcard of the
Olympic.
‘Better you know the facts. I left him years ago, brought up my son alone and now this . . .’ She’d not been able to continue or look him in the face.

‘I’m so sorry,’ was all he said. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

She shook her head wearily. ‘Selwyn says we can only wait and plead our case, try to get access and custodial rights. I’ll have to go back to the States. I won’t lose my son, I can’t. He’s the only thing that matters to me.’

‘I don’t think you will ever lose him. He’s just temporarily mislaid,’ Archie offered, but she was in no mood for joking. ‘That’s not funny,’ she snapped.

‘Forgive me, but it wasn’t intended to be. He’s mislaid, misguided, a young boy on an exciting adventure. Children don’t think of the consequences of their actions. Why should he? He’s been well brought up, loved and cosseted. He trusts people. He may be a little confused right now, but you have to trust that all you’ve taught him won’t be lost. I know a little of young people and Roderick will come through this. Chasing after him will only tighten the noose your husband has thrown around his neck. Selwyn has told me a little of his nature . . . I’m sorry.’ He reached out to her hand but she pushed it away.

‘He had no right to tell you about my private affairs.’ Celeste couldn’t believe her brother had been so indiscreet. ‘You don’t understand any of this!’

‘Sadly I know only too well what it is to lose a child, but I also know love given freely is never lost. Roddy knows you care. He will find his way back to you in time.’

Celeste stormed off, not wanting Archie’s advice. She wanted Roddy now, not tomorrow. But somehow, now, the warmth of this man reached out to her as she clung onto her brother down the aisle. She felt Archie’s strength. She sensed his concern and his kindness. They were going to need all the friends they could muster to live with this sorrow. Every word of Grover’s letter was burning into her heart.

How will I live with this? How can I survive knowing he’s so far away from me? Who will take this pain from my heart? Why ever did I let him go to London on his own? And why did he hide his father’s letters from me? How could I have been so stupid not to know that Grover wouldn’t try to take him back? Oh, my son, my poor silly boy, you don’t know what you’ve done.

There was nothing to hope for, nothing to do but count the days until she would hold him in her arms again. Her life from now on would be an existence. She stared up at the great West Door opened in honour of her father.
As God and the saints are my very witness, I’ll not sink without a struggle.
She saw again the giant ship plunging into the waters on that terrible night. There must be no giving up now. She was unsinkable. She had survived certain death. There must be a way back to him somehow. There just had to be.