Samuel kept his hand outstretched towards Amelia, his heart thundering.
How was he to reach her – keep her safe – when so many people separated them? He couldn’t leave the lifeboat and, if Amelia bolted, he would have no possible way of catching her… of having the chance to maybe love her.
Chaos was breaking out around them, the smell of oil and grease, fear and desperation merging and spreading like the water that grew ever higher. Samuel dragged his gaze from Amelia, indecision and terror tormenting his heart and mind. He was under orders to stay in the lifeboat, but how in God’s name could he leave without Amelia? God damn it, he shouldn’t be leaving at all. Not when so many people were destined to die. Yet, if he could save just a few…
At last, Amelia moved towards him, her steps steady and sure, her chin raised as though the screaming and shouting wasn’t all around her, pressing into their space and stealing their courage.
The moment she slipped her hand into his, relief and strength flooded through him. They would do what they could for these people together. Side by side. She carefully lifted her foot into the boat.
‘Wait. Please, wait.’
A young mother lunged forward and pushed her baby into Amelia’s arms.
‘Please,’ the woman cried. ‘Take her with you. I can’t leave my husband. Take her. Give her a chance to live. Please.’
The woman turned and ran as though unable to bear the force of her heartbreaking decision. Amelia’s eyes were wide on Samuel’s as she clutched the crying babe to her chest. ‘Samuel…’
‘Everything will be all right. I’ll make sure you and the baby are safe.’ He squeezed her arm and prayed she understood his promise. Come what may, he would ensure she and the baby survived.
Amelia climbed into the lifeboat and sat on the wooden bench beside two women wrapped in furs. The jewels around their necks and in their ears glinted beneath the flickering lights as they clung to one another, tears flowing in silver tracks down their cheeks. Amelia sat upright, her spine rigid as she stared resolutely ahead, her jaw tight. If memory served him right, she’d met these women during her investigative trips to first-class. He thought their names to be something like Parker and Culford.
A senior officer came forward. ‘Officer Murphy. Lower the boat.’
‘But I can take more, sir. There’s room for at least—’
‘Now, officer.’ The man’s face was a mask of detachment, except for his eyes which blazed with underlying panic. ‘We have no time to lose. Lower or face the barrel of my gun.’
Samuel clenched his jaw, his heart pumping before he nodded and forced his gaze to the passengers standing above them, lest he ever forget the distress and terror in their eyes. This was why he was on this boat. To give something to these poor men who could do nothing to help their loved ones. He would stand where they had not been given the chance.
Tears glistened in the eyes of these husbands, sons and brothers as they stared at the females they knew or loved. Samuel’s heart filled with their pain and he caught the eyes of a few before doubt in his capabilities rose and he quickly looked away, the threat of losing hold of his sanity edging in.
‘Lower the boat,’ he yelled. ‘All aboard.’
A bitter nausea coated his throat under the knowledge more passengers could have boarded their vessel. It was clear how hysterical things would soon become once the Titanic started its inevitable descent into the ocean. He forced himself to concentrate on the job in hand.
A flare whistled into the black night sky and exploded like a pink-red rocket. The collective gasps of the passengers cut through the roar and screech of the ship.
Now people would know the unsinkable ship was in dire distress. The atmosphere aboard would veer from a place of reasonable control, to out and out chaos. Drawing in a shaky breath, Samuel worked the ropes as they approached the sea’s surface, burying the conflicting emotions ricocheting through him and making him want to shout aloud at the injustice of what was unfolding.
Did the designers of the ship – the Captain – really think these lifeboats offered anyone guaranteed survival? He’d heard officers saying there weren’t enough boats for all aboard and if Samuel’s wasn’t completely filled and had been ordered to sea, then most certainly other seamen were receiving the same instructions. There was a chance every passenger, every member of crew would perish. His thoughts turned again to his family. His mother and sisters. How would they manage without him? Without his money? His words of encouragement and optimism? They had already lost their husband and father, now they would most likely lose Samuel, too.
He inwardly cursed his arbitrary thoughts. Why was he worrying about his kin when they were safely in Bath? Right now, he had other people’s relatives under his care. He had Amelia under his care.
Samuel looked at his fellow rower and Archie’s face came into his mind’s eye. He hoped to God his best friend managed all right. Hoped to God he, and thousands of others, survived.
Taking a deep breath, Samuel shouted, ‘I ask that you all remain as calm as possible so myself and Officer Lansman can row you to safety.’ Another flare lit the night sky, showering white sparks like falling diamonds before they disappeared on snaking wisps of smoke. ‘It’s imperative you let us concentrate. We must get away from the ship as quickly as possible.’
The Titanic had grown eerily still on the water even as her tilting grew ever more pronounced. The ship was sinking and if he and his colleague didn’t get the lifeboat far away, as quickly as possible, there was every chance their small vessel would be drawn into the deep, dark depths of the ocean by the sheer force of the ship’s enormous suction.
Gripping the oars so tightly he knuckles ached, Samuel met Amelia’s steady gaze. ‘Pull!’
His arms soon burned from exertion, his fingers welded to the oars by the freezing, early morning temperatures. Onward Samuel rowed, gritting his teeth and focusing on moving them away from the Titanic, away from the screams and terror echoing across the ocean from the passengers still trapped aboard.
Every face was focused on the ship behind him. Amelia’s hand was at her throat, her face so still it could have been carved from marble.
Samuel’s mouth burned with bile as he forced himself to turn.
The ship was slowly descending from the head. There could be absolutely no hope of delaying her sinking.
He estimated that the Titanic would be beneath water within an hour.
Swallowing hard, Samuel faced his charges, keeping his gaze on Amelia’s and ignoring the terror in his heart. ‘We will survive. We have to survive for everyone left behind. Do you hear me?’ He gripped the oars, braced and pulled. ‘We will survive!’
On and on they rowed, the weeping of some of the women contradicting with the absolute silence of others. The baby in Amelia’s arms was quiet and he prayed her sleeping. Something in the distance caught his eye and his heart jolted. It couldn’t be… could it?
‘A light,’ he whispered. ‘A light,’ he said a little louder. He smiled. ‘A light!’
They all looked across the ocean to the flickering in the distance.
‘We will all be saved.’ Samuel pulled on the oars, his exhaustion and terror miraculously lifting with his hope and prayers. Strength and fortitude powered through his body, pushing him on. He heaved on the oars. ‘Fear not, we will all be saved.’
With an almighty roar, he pushed on, not really knowing if the light was real or imagined but determined to reach it. As much as he hated being given the chance to survive when so many could die, if or when they reached America, he would stop at nothing to build the life he and every other person aboard the Titanic had dreamed of.
His family would receive his money, but Samuel would never again return to England.