Titanic Affair (13 page)

They compared their experiences of the ship and all the varied entertainments
Titanic
offered her guests, soon falling into an easy friendship. Pansy was entertaining, and knew a great deal about the various ships belonging to the White Star Line, so that Emilia felt not only well entertained, but as though she had learnt many things as well.

At the end of their session in the Turkish baths, Pansy said, ‘Would you join us for dinner tonight, Emilia? Robert and I are dying to try the
à la carte
restaurant. Dinner in the dining-room is superb, but we want to sample everything
Titanic
has to offer, and the restaurant has a very good reputation. It’s run by a Frenchman, you know, a Monsieur Gatti. He used to manage the restaurant of the Ritz. You’d be our guest, of course. Do say you’ll come.’

Emilia was delighted with the idea. She had seen the restaurant on her way round the ship and had thought how splendid it looked. It would be wonderful to dine there, especially with a companion as entertaining as Pansy. Besides, by avoiding the dining-room she would have an opportunity to avoid Carl Latimer, which was a very good thing. Mr Latimer was not proving easy to banish from her thoughts, and the less she saw of him the better.

‘Thank you,’ she said to Pansy. ‘I’d love to. What time are you intending to dine?’

‘Shall we say,
eight o’clock
?’

‘
Eight o’clock
. I’ll look forward to it.’

The
à la carte
restaurant was in a beautiful room on the bridge deck. Emilia had thought she could not be surprised any more by the wonders of the ship, but she had been wrong. The restaurant was breathtaking. It was panelled from floor to ceiling in French walnut, and decorated with furniture in the
Louis Seize
style. Large bay windows gave an air of being in a country house, whilst their fawn curtains complemented the Axminster carpet, which was in a beautiful shade of 
Rose du Barri
. At the after end was a bandstand raised on a platform, and musicians were playing. The lighting was discreet, and the atmosphere wonderful. Many of
Titanic
’s passengers were enjoying Monsieur Gatti’s superb food, and the buzz of conversation filled the air.

Emilia met Pansy and Robert just outside. Pansy was beautifully dressed in a dark red Empire-line gown, with a feather in her hair. Robert, a handsome man with a jovial countenance, was dressed in evening attire. Neither of them turned a hair at Emilia’s outmoded yellow gown, and when Pansy had performed the introductions, the three of them were shown to a splendid table at the front of the restaurant.

Once they had settled themselves they perused the menu. It contained a mouth-watering selection of fish and meat dishes and was as varied as any menu on land.

‘Isn’t this wonderful?’ sighed Pansy, after they had given their order. ‘I’ve never seen so many famous people in all my life. Look, over there by the door, just entering the restaurant, that’s John Jacob Astor. They say Mr Astor is one of the richest men in the world.’

‘Really, Pansy,’ said her husband, but without rancour. He was clearly used to Pansy’s harmless enjoyment in spotting the rich and famous, and did no more than offer a token remonstrance.

‘The girl beside him is his new wife. Their marriage was quite a scandal,’ went on Pansy, taking no notice of her husband and turning to Emilia. ‘Madeline is only eighteen years old - younger than his son. They went to
Egypt
right after the wedding, to avoid the gossip, but Madeline’s in a delicate condition so they’re heading back to
New York
. And look, behind them, that’s Margaret Brown. She comes from a family of Irish immigrants, and she married a miner. You wouldn’t think so to look at her now, would you? He made his fortune somehow or other,’ Pansy went on, ‘and she rose to become one of
Denver
’s most prominent citizens. They don’t see a lot of each other nowadays, though. He doesn’t like the high life, and she does. She’s been staying with the Astors in
Cairo
, but her grandchild’s ill so she’s going home.’

Pansy’s eyes travelled round the room.

‘Over there’s Dickinson Bishop,’ Pansy continued. ‘He’s from
Michigan
. He’s been on honeymoon, too, with his second wife Helen. And at the next table is Paul Chevré the sculptor and Jacques Futrelle the writer - he writes mysteries, you know. Have you read any?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I have,’ said Emilia.

She’d enjoyed Monsieur Futrelle’s novels immensely, and was interested to see him in person. But she did not have long to look at him before Pansy pointed out the next celebrity.

‘Over there’s Henry B Harris, the Broadway producer. He’s been over to
London
to see about a play for Rose Stahl, one of his actresses. And look, there’s Archie Butt.’

‘Major Butt,’ her husband interposed.

‘Very well, Major Butt,’ said Pansy with the air of one humouring a child. ‘He was military aide to President Roosevelt, and then to President Taft, but his health’s been suffering lately and he’s been to
Europe
to recover.’

‘A good thing, too,’ said Robert. ‘All that in-fighting must get a chap down.’

‘Oh, politicians are always fighting,’ said Pansy blithely. ‘At the next table is Dorothy Gibson,’ she said with a sigh. ‘The lady with her is her mother. They are travelling together.’

Emilia turned to look at Dorothy Gibson. Miss Gibson was a celebrated actress, and Emilia had seen one of her films with Aunt Clem.

‘She’s very beautiful,’ she said.

And indeed Miss Gibson, with her fine features and expressive eyes, was very lovely.

‘Isn’t she?’ sighed Pansy. ‘I think she’s even more beautiful in real life than she is on the screen. I’d love to go and talk to her, but I can’t pluck up the courage to do so. She’s just made a new film, I hear, called
The Easter Bonnet
. I’m dying to ask her all about it, but I don’t suppose I’ll get the chance.’

Emilia was enjoying herself immensely. Pansy recognised a great many people, and Emilia was learning a lot about her fellow passengers. It was almost worth missing her chance to disembark at Queenstown, just to see so many famous faces.

It was also a help in diverting her thoughts from Carl. She had hoped that by dining in the
à la carte
restaurant, where she would not see him, her thoughts would not keep straying to him, but she had been wrong. Memories of the evening before kept returning to her. She kept remembering the way he looked, the things he said, and the way he smiled. Even with Pansy’s conversation sparkling round her she could not stop thinking about him; without it, she would have thought of nothing else.

Emilia could hardly believe she had been on
Titanic
for almost three days. So much had happened, and the time had passed so quickly. But as she wrote up her account of the voyage on the morning following her meal with Pansy, the morning of Saturday 13
^th
April, she realized just how long she had been at sea.

The weather had been beautiful, and this morning was no exception. Having finished her writing, she decided to take a turn on the deck. She donned her coat, gloves and hat, then went out into the fresh air.

A number of early risers were already there, admiring the ocean. It stretched out in an unbroken vista in every direction, looking calm and placid beneath the clear sky.

Further along the deck, a game of quoits was going on, and past that a couple were playing deck golf. In sheltered nooks and crannies out of the wind, people were sitting in deckchairs supplied for their enjoyment, and stewards were carrying trays of refreshments to and fro.

As she stood there, watching the ocean, two crew members walked past her, talking.

‘I still don’t like this ship,’ said one. ‘I have a queer feeling about it.’

‘Come on, Wilde,’ said his companion. ‘She’s a wonderful ship.’

‘I don’t know so much. I’m not the only one to have a queer feeling about her. Arthur Lewis, one of the stewards, is anxious as well. His wife put his White Star in his cap the night before we sailed, and it fell to pieces in her hands. "I don’t like this", she said, and I’m not surprised. Arthur didn’t like it above half, either.’

‘Superstition,’ said the other crewman, but all the same he sounded a little less sure of himself.

‘John Stewart’s not happy,’ continued Wilde.

‘The verandah café steward?’

‘Yes. His wife saw him off at
Southampton
. It’s unlucky. Wives should never see their husbands off. He’s convinced something’s going to happen.’

‘To him, maybe, but not the whole ship. Perhaps he’s going to trip over his own feet!’

But despite his nervous attempt at a joke, the mood did not lighten.

‘And then there’s Joseph Scarrott. He said "Goodbye" to his sister, and not, "So long, see you again soon" as he always does. And did you hear about one of the passengers. A hard-headed man, a
New York
lawyer, Isaac Frauenthal. He had a dream before we set sail. He was on a ship. It crashed into something and started to go down. He could hear the shouts of people drowning.’

‘Better stop this. You’re starting to make me worry now,’ said the other crewman. ‘In fact, you’re starting to make me wish I’d followed Coffy’s example and jumped ship. He was one of the boiler stokers. He hid under the mail sacks going ashore and got off at Queenstown. Never got back on again.’ He gave a nervous laugh. ‘You don’t suppose he’d had a premonition, too, do you?’

‘Who knows?’

They passed out of hearing.

It was only idle superstition, Emilia reassured herself as she looked out over the calm blue waters. It seemed impossible to think of any disaster befalling
Titani
c
, with the spring sunshine glimmering on the quiet sea. Even so, she felt less comfortable than she had done ten minutes before.

‘Is something worrying you?’

She heard the familiar voice at her elbow and turned to see Carl approaching her. He was dressed in an overcoat and gloves, with a bowler hat, but not even the superb cut of his clothes could hide the fact that he was a vibrant man with a ruthless streak, rather than the sophisticated gentleman he appeared.

She felt her heart start to beat more quickly as he gave her a brilliant smile. It was all very well for her to tell herself that she must not find him attractive. Unfortunately, she did. His face was strong, giving evidence of his character, and she could not help remembering how it had felt to be held in his arms. She had better not think of it. If she did, she would give herself away.

‘Mr Latimer,’ she said, as coolly as she could.

‘Miss Cavendish. I’m glad to see you again.’ He came to a stop a few feet in front of her, and rested the tip of his cane on the deck, then folded his hands on its top. ‘You left the dining-room very quickly on Thursday night. I was sorry to miss saying goodnight to you. I hope you were not too unwell?’

‘No, it was nothing. Just a little sea sickness, that’s all,’ she said.

She did not know why, but she had a feeling he did not believe her. But she could not tell him the truth, that she had been distressed to learn of his forthcoming engagement.

‘I hope you’re feeling all right now?’

‘Yes, thank you. I have quite recovered.’

‘Good. I’m glad. Sea sickness can be very unpleasant. Even on a ship like this it’s impossible to completely avoid it.’ He glanced out over the calm water. ‘There might not be any motion caused by the waves, but there is always the throb of the engines.’