The Lost Sister by Kathleen McGurl

Author:Kathleen McGurl [McGurl, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-03-05T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Emma, 1912

The lifeboat hit the surface of the water with a thud, jolting them all and eliciting some squeals from the women on board. It was full to bursting – Emma wasn’t sure how many it was supposed to take but there was certainly no room for more. They already had people sitting on the floor between the seats. One of the two crewmen on board shouted, ‘Oars out!’ as soon as the boat stabilised, and they began rowing away from the Titanic, the crewmen muttering about not wanting to risk being sucked down with the ship.

Emma looked back at the mighty liner. It was much lower at the bow now, and was also listing to port. She counted the decks, each still brightly lit. Six above the waterline. Only six! She checked again, and now could only count five. ‘E’ deck, her cabin, would now be underwater completely. She leaned her head back and offered up a silent prayer that Ruby had got away safely on an earlier lifeboat.

‘She’ll be all right,’ Violet, sitting opposite, said. ‘Your sister can take care of herself. Try not to worry.’

Emma looked at Violet, grateful for the other woman’s reassuring tone. She noticed once again that Violet was carrying a bundle, and only now realised that it was a baby. ‘Whose is that?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Violet said, tucking the shawl the child was wrapped in more tightly around it. ‘A man thrust it into my arms as I climbed into the lifeboat.’

‘What will you do with it?’

‘I don’t know,’ Violet said again. ‘Keep it alive for now, is all. What else can I do?’ She looked at Emma with dark, sad eyes, and Emma found she had no response. Keep the baby alive. Keep themselves alive. What else could any of them do now?

The night was bitterly cold. Emma turned up her coat collar and wrapped her scarf around her head. The sea was still flat calm, black, and glassy, and in the distance she could see starlight glinting off an iceberg. Whether it was the one they’d hit or not she didn’t know. It was a beautiful thing to see – beautiful but deadly.

Other lifeboats were dotted around, she could see the glow of cigarette tips and torch beams here and there. All were keeping their distance from the Titanic which was inexorably sinking, slowly but steadily, tilting further and further nose-down. It must be hard to stand on deck by now, she thought, and worried that Martin might slip and fall.

Martin. What would become of him?

‘Sir, was this really the last lifeboat?’ she asked the crew member sitting at the stern of the boat. He’d shipped his oars for now, but was keeping hold of the tiller. She noticed he was wearing only a vest.

‘Yes, miss. The last wooden lifeboat. There are four canvas collapsibles on board. I imagine they’ll be launching those now.’

So there was hope yet, for Martin, and some of the others who’d still been on board.

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