Maud heard the front door opening and knew her grandson was finally home. He'd rang earlier to say he didn't know when he'd be home, that a disaster of some sort had happened at the train station, that there were many injured and dead.

Now, as Anton entered the house, the stricken look on his face told her everything she needed to know.

She held her arms out to him, and he sank down on his knees in front of her, laying his head in her lap.

"So many were killed, Nana." His voice faltered. "There were just so many..." He began to sob, and as her fingers swept through the golden curls, she thought of how much like his mother he was. The day they'd learned what had happened to the Titanic, the twelve-year-old girl had come home from school inconsolable.

"Oh, Mama, you won't believe what happened!"

Now she gazed down at Becky's heartbroken son. "I know you did the best you could for them."

He looked up at her with tears streaming down his face. "Do you remember the girl who came for dinner with Patty? Lucy Pevensie? She was - she was on the train, too."

"I'm so sorry, Anton. I wish there was something I could do."

"I did not want to upset you, Nana. It is not good for you to get upset."

"Please don't worry about me, Anton. I'm always here for you, whenever you need me."

He stood, giving her hand a quick squeeze as he did so. "I love you, Nana."

"And I love you, my sweet boy."

He showered and went to bed, falling asleep instantly.

When he awakened the next morning, Susan Pevensie came to his mind right away. She'd never rang, so he assumed her friends had taken her in for the night - he hoped so, anyway.

"Good morning, Nana." He kissed Maud's papery cheek. "How are you this morning?"

"Grateful that the good Lord allowed me to wake up for another day." She looked closely at his face. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Oh, Nana, I was so tired I remember nothing after turning out the light." He nodded at the maid, who'd just sat his breakfast on the table. "Thank you, Jemima."

"My pleasure, sir."

After breakfast, he went straight to the hospital to check on the survivors and offer any assistance he could. There were bandages to be changed, medications to be dispensed, and various other tasks to be performed.

As he worked, he couldn't get Susan off his mind. How was she coping with everything? She'd lost her entire family in just one day. Did she have a clergyman, or at least a good friend, to talk to?

At noon, he checked in at his office.

"Someone rang for you," his nurse, Beatrice, told him. "A young woman. She left her information."

When Anton saw that it was Susan, he called her right away. She answered on the third ring.

"This is Anton Reiker," he told her. "I was told you'd rang me earlier."

"Yes! Can you please help me? I...I..." Her voice broke, and he heard her sobbing. Patiently, he waited until she'd gained her composure.

"I know you don't really know me, but could you please go to the funeral home with me to make the arrangements? I asked Joan and Helen, but they refused."

"They refused?" Anton couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"They said - they said they didn't want to go because funeral homes are too depressing."

"And you have no one else?"

"No sir, I don't."

There was silence on the line for a few minutes as Anton grappled with his emotions.

"If you're too busy, I understand," Susan said after awhile.

"Oh, no, that is quite all right. Where can I meet you?"

She gave him the name and address of the funeral home. "I can be there in fifteen minutes," she said.

She was already there when he arrived, wearing a black coat with gray fur ruffles.

He nodded. "Miss Pevensie."

"Please, call me Susan."

He took her arm and led her into the funeral director's office.

For several hours, such subjects as burial clothing and funeral music were discussed. Anton admired the way Susan kept her composure, answering each question calmly and rationally. He noticed how her eyelids began to droop after awhile.

"Please, let me escort you home," he said to her when the ordeal was finally over.

She'd arrived by train, and he'd taken his car, so he led her out to it and opened the passenger side door for her.

"I am sorry I was not able to be of more help to you," he said as he drove to her flat. "You see, the only funeral I have ever attended was my grandfather's, and I had nothing to do with its planning."

"You were a great deal of help to me, just by your being there," she told him. "I don't know how I could have gone through all that if you hadn't been there with me."