The next night Elizabeth Merry tossed and turned restlessly in her bed. Constance had received another letter from her aunt and had questioned her about what she was like.
‘Does she look anything like my mother? Is she nice?’ Constance had asked curiously.
‘I suppose there was a similarity in their looks,’ Mrs Merry had answered. But she decided that this was as much as she would divulge. In truth, she had never really liked her mistress. Alicia Ogilvie had been beautiful to look at admittedly, but her heart had been made of stone and she had often wondered why the master put up with her. Alicia had never been content and had been even less so after they had adopted Constance, whereas she herself had fallen in love with the baby at first sight and had loved her ever since.
It was she who Connie would run to as a child if she fell and grazed her knee. She was too afraid to go to her mother for fear of getting blood on one of her fine gowns. It was Mrs Merry who would read the child a story each night and tuck her into bed. Alicia had usually been too busy gadding here or there or resting in her room.
On the other hand, her sister, Alexandra, had been a gentle, caring soul from what Mrs Merry could remember of her from the few times she had visited them. She had married a titled gentleman who was many years older than herself when she was still very young and gone to live with him in New York, and from what she had heard the late mistress say it had been the biggest mistake of her life. Alexandra’s husband had made a virtual prisoner of her and like Alicia had been, he was as cold and uncaring as a dead fish as well as being insanely jealous, and now Mrs Merry worried about how he would treat Constance. Would he welcome her into his home or would the next three years be unbearable for the girl?
Whatever the outcome, she was uncomfortably aware that there was nothing she could do about it apart from pray that the time would pass quickly until Constance could come home to her again.
The next morning, Mr Wainthrop arrived bright and early as did yet another letter with the Nuneaton postmark, which Mrs Merry hurriedly hid in her skirt pocket before scuttling away to read it in private.
It was from Jamie, as she had guessed, and was just as heart-breaking as the last letter he had written.
My dearest girl,
I am so disappointed that I have not as yet received a reply to my letter. Is it because you have been too busy to write? Or is it because you have not forgiven me? I cannot bear this bad feeling between us, Flora! Please write soon and put me out of my misery, I miss you every single day! I have now given notice on the room I was renting in London but will soon find another when I return.
On a happier note, I am pleased to be able to tell you that my father is making a good recovery and I pray that very soon now I might be able to return to put things right between us. Please, please write to me, my darling!
All my love always
Jamie xxxx
Tears flowed freely down Mrs Merry’s cheeks as she slowly made her way to her room and she wavered as the enormity of what she was doing by withholding the letters from Flora came home to her. But then her loyalty and love for Connie made her harden her heart and opening her drawer she added Jamie’s letter to the first.
‘I have all your tickets here,’ Mr Wainthrop told the girls in the drawing room as he placed an envelope on the table. ‘I have booked you the finest first-class suite of rooms and adjoining it is a room for you, Flora. I’m sure you will be quite comfortable.’
‘I’m sure we shall, Mr Wainthrop,’ Constance said politely but her voice was dull as were her eyes. Since losing her father she seemed to have lost all her sparkle, and even the excitement of preparing for their adventure hadn’t brought it back.
‘I have also taken the liberty of booking you into a hotel in Southampton quite close to where you will sail from for the evening before your departure,’ he informed her. ‘The first part of the journey to Southampton will be by train the day before you set sail and again the tickets are all there.’
‘You have been most helpful.’
He stared at her for a moment wishing that there was something he could say that would ease her pain, but of course he knew there wasn’t. Grief was a funny thing, different people grieved in different ways and there was a process to go through before the healing could begin. He knew that better than most after losing his beloved wife some years before. Now he just hoped that a trip on what was being claimed to be the most luxurious ship in the world might help take her mind off things a little.
Could he have known it, Flora was also looking forward to their journey with very mixed feelings. Part of her was excited at the thought of the adventure that lay ahead but the other part was sad at Jamie’s abrupt exit from her life. It was only now that he was gone that she realised just how unfair she had been to him. He had often told her how much he cared for her but she had never committed to him so she supposed the way he had reacted to the thought of her leaving served her right.
Days before she had swallowed her pride and visited the lodging house he had been staying in only to be told by his landlady that he had vacated his room some time ago. She supposed that she could have travelled to his home town to try to find him but how did she know if he was even there? He could have gone anywhere. Anyway, now she knew that he had gone, pride forbade her from doing that. What would be the point? He clearly hadn’t thought as much of her as she had thought he did, so she had tried to put him from her mind now and focus on the adventure ahead.
‘I shall be bringing you a sum of money to travel with a little nearer to the time,’ Mr Wainthrop went on. ‘And of course, I shall have some transferred into a bank account in New York that you will be able to draw on whenever you wish. But now I really should get on. Good day, ladies.’ He gave a little bow and Mrs Merry showed him out as Flora gathered the documents together.
‘I’ll go and put these with our luggage, shall I?’
Constance nodded so she left the girl alone and hurried away upstairs. Mrs Merry joined her moments later to show her a little bag she had fashioned.
‘I’ve made this for you to carry Constance’s jewels in,’ she told Flora solemnly. ‘You know how careless she can be about leaving them lying about. It fits about your waist on the belt beneath your skirt or dress, look.’ She hurriedly attached it around Flora’s waist and the girl thought how ingenious it was. It was made of a very thick twill material that Mrs Merry had added many coats of varnish to, to make it as waterproof as it could possibly be.
‘You can keep her aunt’s address in there as well, in case you forget it, and any other important papers,’ the kindly woman told her. ‘And I’m making one now for Constance to wear.’
Flora stifled the urge to laugh. She felt there was very little likelihood of them needing waterproof belts. Already she knew the address they were going to by heart and even if she didn’t they were being met off the ship, but not wishing to offend the kind soul she gave her a grateful smile.
‘That’s ingenious, Mrs Merry. And have no fear, I shall make sure we both wear them at all times.’
Mrs Merry looked pleased and once she had left the room Flora wandered to the window and peered out into the garden. Winter was melting away and spring was in the air. It couldn’t come quickly enough as far as she was concerned. The last couple of months had been full of doom and gloom but surely when the trees began to come to life again and the flowers began to peep through the hedgerows they would all feel better. Then, with a sigh she went about her duties.
On Sunday afternoon, just as she had every Sunday since they had parted, Flora made her way to her and Jamie’s meeting place on the off-chance that he might be there. Her eyes moved up and down the road looking for a glimpse of him as the minutes ticked away but once again she was disappointed and eventually, with a heavy heart, she turned in the direction of her mother’s. Soon it would be too late to tell him that she did genuinely care for him, she and Connie would be gone, but what could she do about it?
‘What’s up with you then?’ her mother greeted her when she stepped through the door. ‘You’ve got a face on you like a wet weekend.’
Flora shrugged as Timmy pottered over to her and wrapped his arms about her waist. ‘Oh, nothing really … I suppose I’m just getting a bit nervous about going so far away from home now that the time to leave is drawing closer,’ she murmured. She would miss seeing them all every week. But then, trying to be a little more cheerful she told her mother, ‘Gertie has got herself a new job. She’s quite excited about it, as it happens, though goodness knows how she’ll go on. She’s going to work in a café but she’s a terrible butterfingers. Mrs Merry is always telling her off about dropping things.’
‘I dare say she’ll cope,’ her mother said stoically as she expertly sawed a freshly baked loaf into thick slices. There were hard-boiled eggs to go with it this week, courtesy of the neighbour whose sister had visited bringing along a basketful from her hens on her small farm on the outskirts of the city. Emily cut the bread slices in half and when fifteen-year-old Eunice daringly pinched one from the bowl she slapped her hand with the back of the carving knife. Eunice merely giggled and skipped away as Flora stared round at the familiar room. Her father was sitting in his chair at the side of the fire snoozing with the newspaper open on his lap. Only Ben and Katie were missing and when Flora commented on it her mother chuckled.
‘Well, they’re both at the age when they’re just discovering the attraction of the opposite sex,’ Emily said with a sigh. ‘Our Katie is smitten with a young chap who works at the match factory with her and Ben has his eye on one of his mate’s sisters. At this rate you’ll all be flown the nest before I know it.’
‘Now, Ma, you know that’s not true,’ Flora scolded. ‘I shan’t be gone forever for a start off. I shall be back before you know it.’
‘You might think that now but three years is a long while. A lot can happen in that time. You might meet a handsome young American who sweeps you off your feet and decide to stay there.’
‘I think that’s rather unlikely.’ After the way Jamie had disappeared out of her life so abruptly, Flora secretly thought it would be some long time before she trusted a fellow again, and anyway, she knew that there would never be anyone but Jamie for her.
She stayed a little longer than usual that day, firstly because she no longer had to rush away to meet Jamie and secondly because she was suddenly realising how much she was going to miss them all when she was gone.
One day in March when Connie was sitting reading the newspaper she asked Flora, ‘Have you read this? About the suffragettes going on the rampage in West London. Over a hundred and twenty of them have been arrested, including Mrs Pankhurst. They attacked the shops causing thousands of pounds worth of damage and threw stones at number 10 Downing Street. They’re awfully brave, aren’t they?’
‘Stupid more like,’ Cook sniffed. She didn’t believe in women fighting for their rights at all. As far as she was concerned girls were bred to be wives and mothers. It was perhaps as well that Miss Connie was going to New York after all. She’d always had a mind of her own and had she been staying she wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find her getting involved with the movement.
‘I’m not so sure they’re brave,’ Flora answered. ‘I mean, I do believe that women should have equal rights to men but surely they could go about getting them in a more peaceful manner?’
‘Well said,’ Cook agreed and dropping the tray of tea she had brought them onto the table she sniffed disapprovingly and shuffled away. But at least she’s starting to take an interest in things again, she thought and took it as a good sign.
Before they knew it, April had arrived, and suddenly it was the week before the girls were due to leave. There was a flurry of last minute packing and making sure they had everything they needed before their trunks were collected to go ahead of them onto the ship. As Flora made her way home after saying goodbye to her siblings on her last Sunday afternoon before their departure, her eyes were full of tears and her mind full of doubts as to whether she was doing the right thing, but it was too late to do anything about it now.
Connie was a bundle of nerves and Mrs Merry wasn’t much better so by Monday morning they were all slightly irritable.
‘I shall be glad when it’s time to catch the train tomorrow morning and just get under way now,’ Flora commented to Mrs Merry as she helped her prepare the evening meal.
‘Yes, I suppose it will be for the best,’ the woman answered, and lowering her head to hide the guilty stain that rose in her cheeks as she thought of the letters hidden in her drawer, she sliced the cold beef that was left over from dinner time. She was going to make sandwiches with it as none of them seemed to have much appetite today. Gertie had left to take up her new post at the café the week before and she was already missing her so she dreaded to think how she was going to feel when Connie and Flora were gone too. It was an awfully large house to rattle round in on her own but then she was grateful that she still had a home at least.
Connie had gone to her room to have a rest some time ago so when the tray was prepared Flora nipped upstairs to fetch her while Mrs Merry carried their meal through to the dining room. She had just placed the tray on the table when someone rapped on the front door and sighing she hurried away to answer it. The colour drained from her face when she found Flora’s young man standing on the doorstep. He was very smartly dressed and after respectfully removing his hat he asked, ‘May I have a word with Flora, please?’
Mrs Merry was all of a dither as she stepped out onto the step to join him, closing the door softly to behind her.
‘B-but I thought you’d gone home because your father was ill,’ she stammered.
‘I did, but thankfully he’s much recovered now so I felt it was safe to leave him and come and see Flora before she leaves.’
‘I-I’m afraid you’re too late, young man … they’ve already gone.’
He looked confused. ‘But Flora told me they were sailing on the Titanic and that doesn’t leave until Wednesday,’ he said.
‘Ah, well … there was a change of plan and they sailed on an earlier ship,’ she told him, feeling even more guilty as his face crumpled.
‘I see.’ He fingered the brim of his hat, looking devastated. ‘And did she leave no message for me? You did tell her I called, didn’t you? Perhaps you could give me the address in New York where she’ll be staying? I could write to her there, although she hasn’t replied to any of the letters I’ve written so far.’
Mrs Merry’s heart was hammering so loudly now that she feared he must be able to hear it. Should Flora come back downstairs now she would discover her deceit and she didn’t know how she would be able to bear the shame.
‘I’m very sorry.’ Her voice was firm now. ‘But Flora made it perfectly clear that she didn’t wish to see or hear from you again, young man, so I’m afraid you are wasting your time here. Good day to you.’
‘B-but, please—’
She turned abruptly, stepped back into the hall and closed the door firmly in his face. For a moment she stood with her back flat to the door as her heartbeat slowed to a steadier rhythm, then as she headed for the dining room she heard Flora’s light footsteps on the stairs.
‘Was that someone at the door, Merry?’ she asked.
‘Oh, just someone selling something,’ the woman said, keeping her voice steady but guilt was eating away at her as an image of the young man’s sad face flashed in front of her eyes.
She saw Flora’s devasted expression. She knew the girl had been hoping against hope that Jamie might still come before she and Connie left. But then, she consoled herself, both he and Flora were young with their whole lives in front of them. There would be plenty of time for them both to meet someone else they would care for, surely? Right now, Connie needed Flora to go with her to New York after all she had been through, so she tried to convince herself that she had done the right thing.