Samuel stood in a bleak, beige and brown office at Bath train station and took the station master’s offered hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, sir.’
‘And you, Mr Murphy, and you.’ The officer took a seat behind his desk and folded his hands over his ample belly, his bushy brown eyebrows lifted. ‘So, you’d like a job at the station. I have to be honest with you, I’m struggling to understand why a seaman of your experience would want to work at a railway station.’
‘It’s time for a change.’
‘From?’
‘Life has a way of making a person realise what matters and what doesn’t.’
The station master’s wily gaze bored into Samuel’s, his brow furrowed. ‘You weren’t caught up in the Titanic disaster, were you?’
Samuel shifted in his chair. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Amelia in days, their different schedules or catching up with people since their return meaning neither had managed to contact the other. Or, at least, that’s what he hoped her explanation would be when he finally came to see her.
And during that separated time, Samuel had mostly been on tenterhooks waiting for news of a Titanic investigation. Considering the height of his agitation, the last thing Samuel wanted to do was talk about was his experiences with, what he hoped, would be his new boss. He had to take this job. The dreams he’d had in New York just felt too damn selfish now that he was home.
‘I…’ He swiped his hand over his face. What choice did he have but watch yet another person’s demeanour change when he told them he’d survived the disaster? Unless he avoided the station master’s question altogether… ‘I spent some time in New York, working on the building of Grand Central station. You could say the railway got under my skin.’
The station master frowned. ‘New York? Well, that’s quite a change from Bath. Can I ask how you ended up there?’
Samuel briefly closed his eyes before opening them again and holding the officer’s interested stare. ‘All right, I admit. I was on the Titanic, sir.’
The station master studied him, a deep sympathy slowly filling his eyes. He stood and came around the desk, his hand outstretched a second time. ‘How many did you bring to safety?’
Relief swept through Samuel as he stood and gratefully clasped his hand.
For the first time since he’d been home, someone hadn’t immediately leapt to the conclusion he was a coward when they learned of his survival. ‘There were thirty-eight women and children in the boat I rowed, sir.’
He nodded, his hand clasped to Samuel’s shoulder, his jaw tight. ‘I lost my brother on that ship. My uncle, too.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, sir. You have my sincere condolences.’
‘No need to apologise, Mr Murphy. I’m sure you did all you could to save as many souls as possible. Heads will roll sooner or later, but it won’t be yours. Rowing that boat across the ocean was a heroic feat. Promise me you’ll not forget that.’
Desperate, terrifying screams and cries, followed by the horrible, devastating and momentary silence as the ship sank echoed in Samuel’s ears. He looked into the other man’s sincere gaze, sickness rolling through him. Samuel stepped back, afraid the trembling that had come and gone in waves for weeks would once again wrack his body.
‘I hazard that a small station like Bath isn’t going to keep you interested for long,’ the station master mused. ‘Considering all you have done and seen, I’m not so sure working here is the right thing for you.’
‘But I need this job, sir. I have to stay in Bath.’
The station master frowned. ‘Take a seat.’ He leaned forward in his chair and laced his fingers. ‘How long did you spend in New York, son?’
‘A few weeks. I travelled back to England on the Adriatic, the first ship to come back to England.’
‘You didn’t want to stay in America? They say Grand Central will be the biggest station ever built. I imagine someone like you, someone with clear bravery and an aptitude for risk, would want to be a part of that.’
‘I did, but my circumstances have changed. I have my family to think of.’
‘You’re married? Have children? They must have been terrified for you when the ship went down.’
‘Not a family of my own, sir. I’m talking about my mother and sisters.’
‘Ah, I see. Then they must be glad to have you home.’ The station master pulled a sheet containing Samuel’s past work experience towards him and perused it. ‘Here’s what I suggest. I’ll give you a position on the train running from Bath to Piccadilly. See how you go. You can start your training as a conductor, taking tickets and such like. If you find the job is not for you, I want you to tell me. You’re made of better stuff than a career travelling back and forth from Bath to London every day.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
The stationmaster stood and waved towards the closed office door. ‘I’ll see you first thing Monday morning, Mr Murphy,’ he said, his grey eyes sombre. ‘But keep in mind my door is always open if you should need to speak to me, or you find the job isn’t to your liking. You’ve been given a second chance. It’s your duty to ensure it doesn’t go to waste.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’
Walking from the station, Samuel dared to hope that not everyone would have the preconceived judgement of what the men aboard should or shouldn’t have been doing as the Titanic began its slow descent into the Atlantic’s freezing cold waters. As much as he felt New York was his destiny, for now, Samuel was stuck in England and the outcome of the disaster would undoubtedly be debated and talked about for years to come.
He had no idea how he would learn to live with the speculation and conjecture, but he had no choice than to find a way.
His mother had started to take care of herself and the house, Katherine had found a job at a small milliners and Fiona… well, she still had the father of her baby to track down. His niece or nephew was coming in the winter and, one way or another, Samuel would see he or she was properly cared for.
Which meant he wasn’t going anywhere any day soon.
Maybe coming home would turn out to be the mistake of his life, but he’d felt he had no choice. Of course, Amelia had been a big part of that decision, too. She still was.
He walked along the bottom of Milsom Street and stared at Pennington’s façade. He longed to see her; longed to apologise for his absence since they’d sailed back to England.
The horror of the Titanic sinking, and the lives lost, had affected the whole country in some way or another. His family included. He was pretty certain it would continue to do so for years to come. It certainly would affect him. He looked towards Pennington’s again. And it would most definitely affect the woman he hoped would one day be his.