Passing in the Night

The gangplank was Emily’s entrance into the world of the steamship. A world she would be a part of for nine days until she disembarked in England. The steward beckoned her to come up, while her parents stood behind him looking back at her with a look of exasperation. She stood for another minute then took her first step. She didn’t want to disappoint her parents, but she had recently met Steven, a handsome clerk who worked for her father. His shaggy blondish hair made her want to run her fingers through it. He was like a piece of forbidden fruit that she wasn’t sure she wanted.

Her long skirt dragged behind her, almost jerking her back to land. Everyone in her circle had done a grand tour and they had said it was splendid. She paused halfway up and put her hand to her hat as the wind swirled around the dock. Steven was currently in London for work and his steamship would arrive in the United States in a just few days, but there was no way she could wait. She took a few more steps. Now they would pass each other on the Atlantic.

At the top of the gangplank, she followed her parents to their berths. They had been assigned a large suite and she had a comfortable bedroom that was more than large enough to twirl around in; there was a writing table, mirror, washstand, chair, and bed. The New York dock bustled with activity as she looked out the porthole.

It would still be an hour before they set sail, so she decided to sit and open her book, Little Dorrit. She was curious about the grand tour that Amy Dorrit was to go on. Amy had grown up in the Marshalsea debtor’s prison; her childhood spent behind the walls of poverty. When it was discovered after twenty-three years that her father was the lost heir to a large fortune he was released and they decided to tour Europe with their new-found wealth. Mr. Dorrit was afraid someone would discover the truth of his time in prison so he wouldn’t let Amy have anything to do with their old friends from the neighborhood. Especially Arthur who she was secretly in love with. Emily could feel Amy’s annoyance. It wasn’t unlike her own since her father didn’t want her to see Steven. Would she feel like going home as Amy did or instead would she enjoy the many ancient sites?

As the long low steam whistle erupted her parents knocked on her door.

“Emily, we’re going to the rail to wave good-bye,” her mother said.

She turned to the mirror, green eyes looking back at her as she tucked a stray brown curl back into her wispy updo. Hat in place, Emily met her parents in the passageway. At the railing she looked at all the people waving. No one was there to bid them good-bye. They had come up from South Carolina to take the S.S. Amerika, a German Liner bound for Hamburg. They would disembark in Southampton as her father hoped to meet members of Parliament to discuss cotton and her mother wanted Emily to be part of London’s social season. It was more like a marriage market, to be bought like a horse, with a prospective buyer checking her teeth and slapping her haunches. Not unlike what would happen to Amy once her education was completed in Italy.

Her father, a wealthy cotton merchant wanted the best for her and said it would be an advantage for her to marry a duke or an earl. But she knew he hoped it would help to expand his business. Emily turned from the rail and adjusted her hat in the wind. It seemed she always had to do what was right, just as Amy Dorrit did.

Her father took her elbow, turning her and guiding her along the deck. A promenade before going down to dress for dinner. Her parents nodded to the various groups of people. When her father knew someone, they would stop and chat for a few minutes. Emily looked out toward the ocean; she was startled when a woman her mother knew addressed her. It took her a minute to understand what they were saying. Did they ask if she was excited for her tour or was it something about missing South Carolina? Politely, she replied, “Yes, I’m looking forward to the trip.”

Emily turned back at the ocean wondering what ship Steven was on. Was he looking out at the ocean as she was? Was he missing her? It had only been a few months since she had noticed Steven. He always seemed to be in a hurry and when she came to the office to relay a message to her father, he had almost bumped right into her. She didn’t know he was her father’s new clerk, but one glance at his rugged looks and she was smitten. From then on, she devised little excuses to go to the office.

They went below to dress for the evening. Emily selected her newest corset. She hated to put it on after being free from one during the afternoon, but it was required. She put on her gold silk dress and an Asian patterned black silk kimono coat. Her mother had made sure it was the very latest fashion. At least ten new dinner dresses, since a different dress was required each evening.

She met her parents and they worked their way through the maze of passageways to dinner. At the top of the grand staircase Emily looked down, conscience this would be the first impression others would make of her and she didn’t want to be seen as a cotton merchant’s daughter. No, she would rise to the occasion. She lifted her chin and let her black gloves lightly brush the gold railing as she glided down the remaining stairs to the Ritz Carlton restaurant.

They waited for the maître d' to seat them. Her father fidgeted with his jacket button, his impatience growing. When they were seated far from the captain’s table, his mouth tightened. He was annoyed, but he wouldn’t say anything.

“Good evening,” her father said as he stood up from the table to greet the newest diners. “This is my wife Amelia and my daughter Emily. I am Thomas Merchant.”

A burly man with a mutton chop beard and buttons ready to burst from his vest said, “I am Matthew Barnes and this is my wife, Jane and my daughter Fanny. We’re happy to meet you.”

After a few more pleasantries, the first course was served, a clear turtle soup with some bread and pate.

Emily was seated next to Fanny, a young woman with bright red hair and pale freckles. Between sips of her soup, she asked, “Are you going to Southampton or all the way to Hamburg?”

Fanny’s mouth stretched into a big smile. “We’re going for the social season in London.”

“Oh, so are we. Maybe we’ll see you at some of the events. Which ones are you looking forward to?

“Royal Ascot, I think. And you?”

“Oh, I love horses, so yes, we’re planning on going.”

“I’d love to get your opinion on my hat tomorrow,” said Fanny. Her cheeks turned pink. Was it the heat of the soup or the upcoming dancing?

Emily said, “Wonderful, let’s plan a time to meet after breakfast.”

The next morning, Emily met Fanny. They were both bundled up in longer wool coats to walk the deck. Emily was glad she wore a simple hat when the wind blew, she put out her hands for balance as the ship rolled a little. Fanny’s bright hair whipped around her ears as she laughed. Breathless, they both managed to stay upright by bending their knees as they made their way across the promenade deck.

As the wind whistled between them, Emily inquired, “Fanny, I didn’t ask you yesterday, but are you also expected to find a husband during the social season?”

“Yes, my parents think the idea of someone from the peerage is exciting and would help with my father’s business.”

“It’s the same for me.” Emily bit her lip. She wasn’t sure if there was any point in talking about Steven with Fanny, but she was curious if Fanny had had other offers. “Was there someone else here in the States that you would’ve preferred to marry?”

They had made their way to the edge of the ship and Fanny rested her elbows on the rail. “No, we lived quite removed from society. I am actually looking forward to meeting people and attending social events.”

Emily tilted her face to the sky, making an abrupt decision to tell Fanny of Steven, “I’d met someone who worked for my father in South Carolina. My father had sent him ahead to England to set up meetings with prospective parliamentary members for his business. He is on his way back now.”

“Why didn’t your father wait for him to return?”

Emily gripped the railing harder stretching her kid leather gloves. “I think my father thought I liked him. He didn’t want me to see him before the social season in case there was a better prospect.” Emily pointed out to the ocean. “Maybe he is passing us right now on a different ship.”

Fanny’s expression was sympathetic, “Oh, so that is why you didn’t wait for the new Titanic to dock and embark on that ship instead of this one.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Emily held her breath as she studied Fanny who was quiet for a moment, her lashes lowered to sea before them. “You never know who you’re going to meet in London,” was all she said.

The conversation moved to fashion, food on the ship, and the possibility of dancing, but Fanny’s excitement didn’t attach itself to Emily. She wasn’t sure the trip was going to be as thrilling, especially without Steven.

At the end of their walk Emily wanted to get back to her berth. She hoped to write a letter to Steven. She had been putting it off for too long. Even though her father had probably informed him of their departure date, she wanted to say she was sorry to miss him.

**

It wasn’t until April fourteenth that she finally had the opportunity to finish her letter to Steven. She explained that her father wanted her to find a suitable husband among the nobility and told him she was going to abide by his decision. She put her fingers to her lips. She could still feel the first kiss they had in the storeroom at her father’s business. She had never been kissed like that. His scratchy beard rubbed her face surprising her and the pressure from the kiss was hard, but his lips were soft. She rubbed her lips hard to erase the memory. It wasn’t like she knew him that well, he could be a rogue for all she knew. That was what she would tell herself.

She didn’t want to give him any hope, but she couldn’t help write a tender closing as she signed off on the letter. As the ship’s bell rang three times, she put her pen down. It was the emergency bell. She got her coat to go up to the deck.

The bright sunlight showed a crowd of people looking out at the blue-black water. Emily went to rail and saw a number of small whitish icebergs. The contrast with the water made her shiver. The steward urged them not to worry about the icebergs, the captain was changing course and going a little further south. The bell was announced to inform them of the change. He assured them they would still arrive in Southampton on time.

The next morning as Emily walked with her parents to breakfast a steward was passing out circulars to the passengers with news received by the wireless.

Her father moved away from the crowd and put on his eyeglasses.

“Father, what does it say?”

Emily looked at the other people in the great hallway and saw their heads bent over the circulars. There were whispers.

“The Titanic has sunk. It struck an iceberg last night.”

Emily’s mother said, “Are the passengers alright?”

“No, it does not say exact numbers, but it seems some may have died.”

“I hope it’s not serious,” said her mother.

Her father said, “I’m curious, the last line on the report says that the Amerika transmitted a warning…if so, how could this have happened?”

They followed the crowd into the dining room. Emily glanced about the room and noticed one woman crying on her husband’s shoulder. When she looked at other tables the people had their heads bent toward each other whispering. When coffee was served, Emily said, “Did we know anyone who was on the Titanic, father?”

“Well, my clerk, Steven sent a telegram last week asking for permission to book a ticket on Titanic’s maiden voyage. I did say yes, but he didn’t send word to confirm his decision.”

Emily felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Suddenly, her corset felt too tight and she had to open her mouth to swallow air.

Her father continued, “I hope Steven didn’t get a first-class ticket. He is a clerk after all and the ticket might have been expensive.”

Emily got up, fingers tightly gripping the front of her dress and ran from the table. Once in her room she stood by the port hole her mind racing. She had resigned to marry someone her parents approved of, but she hadn’t realized until this moment how much Steven meant to her. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and thought she heard a faint knock. When she turned to search for her handkerchief, she heard it again. “Come in.”

Her mother immediately reached for her and hugged her tight. “Emily, darling, he might still be alright. The Titanic must have had as many lifeboats as we do here. I am sure he is fine.”

“Do you really think so mother?” Emily wiped more tears that had erupted from her eyes onto her cheeks. Her mother always knew her feelings and it was no different now.

“Yes, of course darling. I am sure of it. Now make yourself ready and come back to breakfast.”

Later, during their daily walk, Fanny repeated the same words of reassurance to Emily. But as the days passed more news arrived saying that the Titanic had not heeded the ice warning. The Titanic also did not have enough lifeboats and that many people had died, especially those in second and third class.

**

Emily sat in her berth the day before they were to dock in Southampton. She wanted to distract herself with the novel and find out what happened to Amy. Did Amy at least find love? When Amy married Arthur in the end she burst into tears. Her dream had been to marry Steven. She only wanted to placate her parents by going on this trip. Now, Steven was dead and it’s all her father’s fault. Her father should have told Steven to get a first-class ticket that way his chances of survival would have increased. Why did it always work out in novels and not for her?

The next day, they moved to disembark. Emily was eager to get off the boat, but her parents’ progress was slow, so she pushed past them to walk down the gangplank. The steward held back the crowds of people on the dock to give those arriving more room. Hawkers shouted and tried to press their services onto the passengers—taxis, hotels, and tours.

It was as if her name was blowing from far away above the din surrounding the dock. Emily stopped at the sound of a familiar voice and turned toward the faint word to see a hand waving. It couldn’t be. Her corset felt tight and she gasped for air, the voice too familiar to ignore.

The steward said, “Miss, Miss. Are you alright?”

Emily stumbled into the steward’s arms, as she looked over his shoulder, she saw Steven push his way through the crowd. Blackness came over her before she was certain it was him.

When she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, she saw Steven’s soft brown eyes beneath wisps of shaggy blonde hair looking down at her. He had her gently in his arms and steered her away from the crowd, her parents in tow.

“Oh, Steven. Is it really you? Are you a phantom?” cried Emily.

“No, darling. It’s me.” His wide grin was infectious.

“How? The Titanic, father said you were on the Titanic.”

She leaned in and felt his rough beard against her check as Steven put her down. He hadn’t shaved. Her hand went out to stroke the old crumpled jacket he always wore as his strong arms steadied her.

“No, no I missed my chance for the Titanic. I’m afraid my behavior will cause you to think less of me Emily, but I lost my ticket in a card game to some bloke, named Jack.”

Emily laughed and reached to caress his face. Yes, he was real and maybe like Amy Dorrit she had found love.