have done it if I wasn’t sure my daughter was coming too. What was it your husband promised Mr. Hardie? They raised the boat up and that’s when Mr. Hardie and Grace got into it. And that’s when Mr. Hoffman says Emmy was hit. If Grace won’t tell us, maybe Mr. Hardie will!”
“If they raised the boat up, it was to keep it level,” barked Hardie. “The ship was tilted nearly twenty degrees, the decks were slick with oil, and people were clawing at anyone in a uniform. I’d like to see the lot of you try to work the pulleys under those conditions!”
“They raised the boat for you and Grace—that’s the only reason. I saw it with my own eyes!”
“There, there,” I said, for I remembered nothing about getting into the boat except how I had seen smoke billowing from the bridge and how, amid the terror and confusion, I had clutched Henry’s hand and followed him blindly, putting one foot in front of the other and doing what I was told until I was swept off my feet and deposited in the boat. I could think of nothing else but to murmur meaningless phrases and pull Mrs. Fleming in against my chest, but she persisted: “Is it or is it not your fault that this boat is overcrowded? Is it or is it not your fault that my little Emmy is dead?” Her voice had become cracked and low, and the others had gone on to talk about other things and so probably didn’t hear us. Only Mary Ann heard, for she was helping me with Mrs. Fleming, and once again she tried to ease her mind, saying, “Now, now, dear. One person more or less isn’t going to make a difference.”
“It wasn’t one,” hissed Mrs. Fleming, as if she were imparting some terrible secret. “It was her and Hardie. That’s two, isn’t it? I count two.”
“And thank goodness for that, then,” said Mary Ann. “Without Mr. Hardie, we’d be lost.”
“And we’ll be lost with him!” croaked Mrs. Fleming. “You mark my words.”
Mary Ann and I exchanged a look, but Mrs. Fleming sank into an exhausted silence. I continued through the afternoon with my arms around her shoulders, whispering encouraging things to her the way one would to a child. She seemed to sleep for a while, but immediately upon waking she said, “It should have been you. Emmy should be here beside me, but your husband bought you a ticket, didn’t he? That has to be the explanation. If it weren’t for your money, the boat wouldn’t have been so overloaded in the first place. If it weren’t for your money, little Emmy wouldn’t be dead.”
I remained calm, for of course she was upset and talking nonsense. I replied that no one was allowed on the Empress Alexandra without a ticket. “You can misunderstand me if you want to,” she began evenly, but then her temporary calm evaporated and she started to scream: “It should have been her! It should have been her!” It took three of the men to subdue her. Finally, she became quiet and slumped down between Hannah and me, either asleep again or in a trance. Mary Ann took my turn at the bailer so as not to wake her up.
Because of the clouds, the sun faded away rather than set, but in the diminishing light, I could see that Mrs. Fleming had regained a kind of peace. When she asked for the bailer, I supposed she wanted it for private reasons. I had no idea she intended to drink seawater. I didn’t see her do it, but in the night I felt her shivering, so I adjusted the blanket, which had fallen from her shoulders, and Hannah and I took turns holding her tightly against our bodies. Once in the night she mumbled something incoherent, and in the morning she was dead. Later, after Mr. Hoffman had allied himself with Hardie, Mrs. Grant used this as an example of Hoffman’s treachery, of how he had killed Mrs. Fleming with the truth.
The Empress Alexandra
THE OTHERS IN the lifeboat talked about how they had seen Mr. Hardie on the Empress Alexandra, going about his duties with black looks and evil already evident in his heart, but I
“If they raised the boat up, it was to keep it level,” barked Hardie. “The ship was tilted nearly twenty degrees, the decks were slick with oil, and people were clawing at anyone in a uniform. I’d like to see the lot of you try to work the pulleys under those conditions!”
“They raised the boat for you and Grace—that’s the only reason. I saw it with my own eyes!”
“There, there,” I said, for I remembered nothing about getting into the boat except how I had seen smoke billowing from the bridge and how, amid the terror and confusion, I had clutched Henry’s hand and followed him blindly, putting one foot in front of the other and doing what I was told until I was swept off my feet and deposited in the boat. I could think of nothing else but to murmur meaningless phrases and pull Mrs. Fleming in against my chest, but she persisted: “Is it or is it not your fault that this boat is overcrowded? Is it or is it not your fault that my little Emmy is dead?” Her voice had become cracked and low, and the others had gone on to talk about other things and so probably didn’t hear us. Only Mary Ann heard, for she was helping me with Mrs. Fleming, and once again she tried to ease her mind, saying, “Now, now, dear. One person more or less isn’t going to make a difference.”
“It wasn’t one,” hissed Mrs. Fleming, as if she were imparting some terrible secret. “It was her and Hardie. That’s two, isn’t it? I count two.”
“And thank goodness for that, then,” said Mary Ann. “Without Mr. Hardie, we’d be lost.”
“And we’ll be lost with him!” croaked Mrs. Fleming. “You mark my words.”
Mary Ann and I exchanged a look, but Mrs. Fleming sank into an exhausted silence. I continued through the afternoon with my arms around her shoulders, whispering encouraging things to her the way one would to a child. She seemed to sleep for a while, but immediately upon waking she said, “It should have been you. Emmy should be here beside me, but your husband bought you a ticket, didn’t he? That has to be the explanation. If it weren’t for your money, the boat wouldn’t have been so overloaded in the first place. If it weren’t for your money, little Emmy wouldn’t be dead.”
I remained calm, for of course she was upset and talking nonsense. I replied that no one was allowed on the Empress Alexandra without a ticket. “You can misunderstand me if you want to,” she began evenly, but then her temporary calm evaporated and she started to scream: “It should have been her! It should have been her!” It took three of the men to subdue her. Finally, she became quiet and slumped down between Hannah and me, either asleep again or in a trance. Mary Ann took my turn at the bailer so as not to wake her up.
Because of the clouds, the sun faded away rather than set, but in the diminishing light, I could see that Mrs. Fleming had regained a kind of peace. When she asked for the bailer, I supposed she wanted it for private reasons. I had no idea she intended to drink seawater. I didn’t see her do it, but in the night I felt her shivering, so I adjusted the blanket, which had fallen from her shoulders, and Hannah and I took turns holding her tightly against our bodies. Once in the night she mumbled something incoherent, and in the morning she was dead. Later, after Mr. Hoffman had allied himself with Hardie, Mrs. Grant used this as an example of Hoffman’s treachery, of how he had killed Mrs. Fleming with the truth.
The Empress Alexandra
THE OTHERS IN the lifeboat talked about how they had seen Mr. Hardie on the Empress Alexandra, going about his duties with black looks and evil already evident in his heart, but I
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