Read Online The Captain's Daughter by Leah Fleming - Free Book Online
Authors: Leah Fleming
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you hear that? Captain Smith saved the baby. He deserves a medal,’ said another woman, patting the baby’s curls.
May walked round every corner of the deck showing off the child, but no one claimed her as their own So it began right there, the slow realization that she could keep the little orphan. The baby was younger than Ellen, dark-eyed and olive-skinned but perfect.
May found some shelter to unpeel the blankets and examine the dry new layette given to her by passengers on the Carpathia. She couldn’t help but marvel at its quality. It was fit for a princess, made from fine lawn and merino wool, a lacy jacket and pretty ruffled bonnet, all donated willingly. Her kind befriender promised the baby’s original clothes were being laundered for her.
Discreetly, she opened the baby’s napkin, shaking with anxiety but to her utter relief she saw the baby was indeed a girl. The temptation was growing stronger now. Why should she not keep her? A baby needed a mother, not an orphanage full of other children. She should know, she’d been in one herself, later brought up in Cottage Homes outside the town and put into service without a relative who cared for her welfare until she met Joe. What would Joe make of it all? Suddenly she realized he would not be there to help her. Oh, Joe, what shall I do? Her mind was numb. She wept into her blanket, knowing she was alone in making this momentous decision.
The icy numbness of the night was wearing off into an aching in all her joints.
She knew when the baby had been declared unharmed by her experience, she should have spoken up to the ship’s doctor and confessed her mistake. But still she couldn’t spit out the words that would separate them. Perhaps later, when they docked, she would tell the truth, but she knew in her heart the deed was done.
‘You were given to me, the captain’s gift. It’s meant to be, you and me. Mum’s the word!’ she whispered into the baby’s ear. The baby was already nudging May’s chest for milk, fidgeting in her blankets and staring up at her in hunger.
‘Ella wants a feed,’ smiled her new friend, Celeste Parkes. The name suddenly came back to May.
‘I’ve no milk left,’ May muttered. Her own child had been weaned months ago.
‘I’m not surprised, the shock alone will have stopped your breast milk,’ Celeste replied. ‘Let me find her a bottle.’
Out of earshot, May bent over the baby. ‘I’m not giving you to no strangers after all we’ve been through together. I’ll be taking care of you from now on.’
The ship was heading back towards the site of the disaster. The passengers were warned not to stay on deck and it was raining, but May still refused to go below. She could see white objects bobbing on the horizon: wreckage and bodies. She turned her back on the sea. There was no point tormenting herself. Joe was never coming back, nor little Ellen. She felt sick at the thought of them out there somewhere at the mercy of the waves. How could she leave them and sail away? How can I live without you both? What shall I do now?
Suddenly she knew she hadn’t the courage to go on to Idaho alone. She couldn’t go back to Bolton either. How could she explain the change in Ella’s size and colouring? Ella. Mrs Parkes had misheard her name but this suited May. Ella Smith was close enough to the name on her own baby’s birth certificate but different enough not to cause a shard of pain to pierce her heart every time she uttered it. Already she was proving adept in planning this terrible deceit.
Her mind was racing now. The two of them must go as far away from the sea as possible and from the memory of this terrible night, somewhere where no one knew them, where she could start over, and live this lie.
Hanging over the railings, she sobbed into the wind. I have to do this, fill this emptiness in my heart with a bigger secret. There was no hope for her now, only a lifetime of pain, but Ella was a remedy of sorts. May could
May walked round every corner of the deck showing off the child, but no one claimed her as their own So it began right there, the slow realization that she could keep the little orphan. The baby was younger than Ellen, dark-eyed and olive-skinned but perfect.
May found some shelter to unpeel the blankets and examine the dry new layette given to her by passengers on the Carpathia. She couldn’t help but marvel at its quality. It was fit for a princess, made from fine lawn and merino wool, a lacy jacket and pretty ruffled bonnet, all donated willingly. Her kind befriender promised the baby’s original clothes were being laundered for her.
Discreetly, she opened the baby’s napkin, shaking with anxiety but to her utter relief she saw the baby was indeed a girl. The temptation was growing stronger now. Why should she not keep her? A baby needed a mother, not an orphanage full of other children. She should know, she’d been in one herself, later brought up in Cottage Homes outside the town and put into service without a relative who cared for her welfare until she met Joe. What would Joe make of it all? Suddenly she realized he would not be there to help her. Oh, Joe, what shall I do? Her mind was numb. She wept into her blanket, knowing she was alone in making this momentous decision.
The icy numbness of the night was wearing off into an aching in all her joints.
She knew when the baby had been declared unharmed by her experience, she should have spoken up to the ship’s doctor and confessed her mistake. But still she couldn’t spit out the words that would separate them. Perhaps later, when they docked, she would tell the truth, but she knew in her heart the deed was done.
‘You were given to me, the captain’s gift. It’s meant to be, you and me. Mum’s the word!’ she whispered into the baby’s ear. The baby was already nudging May’s chest for milk, fidgeting in her blankets and staring up at her in hunger.
‘Ella wants a feed,’ smiled her new friend, Celeste Parkes. The name suddenly came back to May.
‘I’ve no milk left,’ May muttered. Her own child had been weaned months ago.
‘I’m not surprised, the shock alone will have stopped your breast milk,’ Celeste replied. ‘Let me find her a bottle.’
Out of earshot, May bent over the baby. ‘I’m not giving you to no strangers after all we’ve been through together. I’ll be taking care of you from now on.’
The ship was heading back towards the site of the disaster. The passengers were warned not to stay on deck and it was raining, but May still refused to go below. She could see white objects bobbing on the horizon: wreckage and bodies. She turned her back on the sea. There was no point tormenting herself. Joe was never coming back, nor little Ellen. She felt sick at the thought of them out there somewhere at the mercy of the waves. How could she leave them and sail away? How can I live without you both? What shall I do now?
Suddenly she knew she hadn’t the courage to go on to Idaho alone. She couldn’t go back to Bolton either. How could she explain the change in Ella’s size and colouring? Ella. Mrs Parkes had misheard her name but this suited May. Ella Smith was close enough to the name on her own baby’s birth certificate but different enough not to cause a shard of pain to pierce her heart every time she uttered it. Already she was proving adept in planning this terrible deceit.
Her mind was racing now. The two of them must go as far away from the sea as possible and from the memory of this terrible night, somewhere where no one knew them, where she could start over, and live this lie.
Hanging over the railings, she sobbed into the wind. I have to do this, fill this emptiness in my heart with a bigger secret. There was no hope for her now, only a lifetime of pain, but Ella was a remedy of sorts. May could
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