Mary

She thinks it is the hardest letter she has ever had to write.

Dear Mama and Papa,

I am sending this letter to both of you because I know that you will share it and quite frankly, knowing that you will read the letter together is one of the very few things that don't make me want to cry. Besides the fact that Edith survived and that I've got Matthew and George.

There is no reason to beat around the bush, so I'll be honest with you. Edith is doing terribly. She is fine physically; we've had our doctor examine her. She wasn't in the water, so she was comparatively warm during the whole ordeal. But she can't come to terms with what happened. She thinks that it is her fault that Patrick is dead, because she pressured Patrick into going onto the Titanic with her. Matthew, Anna and I have told her that that wasn't true, that is was the fault of the people who didn't put enough life boats onto that damn ship and the fault of those people who thought it a good idea to sail at almost full speed through icy water. But Edith doesn't accept this. She has nightmares, which I suppose isn't a surprise. She cries and screams and I have had to sleep next to her last night and I am sure that this will go on for many more nights. Of course this makes things with George more difficult, especially since Edith absolutely refuses to be in a room with him. I am afraid that she will be worse when we are on the ship. We are only bringing Anna and the nanny along; Anna has agreed to take care of Edith as well and I think that this gives Edith some comfort.

We are leaving New York in three weeks from today. We can't come any earlier because Matthew has to wrap things up at work. I am not happy that we have to leave New York so soon. Mama, you were right, I love it here. But I am very glad to see all of you again. And I am happy that George will be spoilt rotten by both of you. He is such a lovely boy. We'll arrive in Liverpool on the 19th. Would you mind picking us up? I think it would be good for Edith to see both of you as soon as she is back in England.

Papa, Matthew asked me to tell you not to worry. He said he would do his duty. And so will I.

I know I don't say it often enough but I want to say it now. I love you both.

Mary

P.S.: I know I sound like a child, but would you please write back to me? The letter should be here before we leave.

P.P.S: Don't worry if Edith doesn't write to you. She doesn't want to talk to or write to anyone at the moment.

She feels relieved when the letter has been brought to the post office and is on its way to England. She wishes her mother was here and would help her with Edith. But they'll be home in a little over three weeks and her parents will help her then. She can't remember ever wanting her parents to be with her as much as she wants that now.

Cora

"I feel so sorry for them. All of them. We have to write back to her right now, Robert."

"I know darling. I'll be glad once they are all back here. Why don't you write the letter and I'll make arrangements for us to go to Liverpool and pick them up?"

"Robert, she wants us to write back to her, not just me."

"I'll read the letter and sign it." She rolls her eyes at her husband but can't help smiling at him.

Dear Mary,

Of course we are writing back to you and it doesn't have to make you feel like a child to ask for it. The task you've been given would be hard to deal with for everyone, but considering the state of the relationship between Edith and yourself, you are probably the one for whom it is hardest to help. But thank you for doing it.

We will be in Liverpool to pick you up. We are looking forward to finally seeing our grandson and we are glad that he will grow up with us, even if the circumstances that have led to it are horrible.

Tell Edith that we all love her. I send a letter to her three days ago, I hope she reads it. Sybil has written too, in fact she writes to Edith every day. She hopes that getting letters from home every day will cheer Edith up a little, but I told Sybil not to hope for an answer and she does not expect one.

I wish I could tell you something that you could do to let Edith have less nightmares but I can't. When your father came back from the war he had nightmares for months on end and there was nothing that would stop them. But eventually they did stop. Maybe that is a little consolation for either you or Edith or for both of you.

Mary, please do not take it personally that Edith does not want to see George. She hoped for a son so much and now she knows she will never have one, at least not with Patrick. I am sure that it is breaking her heart. She will come around to George eventually. I know that nothing of this is helping you right now, but it will get better.

Your father is very thankful to both you and Matthew for coming home without him having to ask for it. We both know it is not what you wanted; we know how much you both enjoy living in New York. The city suits you well, Mary, I know. But you will feel home here again soon, I am sure.

Your father has just told me that he booked a hotel in Liverpool for all of us to stay in after you have come back, but it is up to Edith whether we really will stay there or whether we will go home.

We love you too.

Mama and Papa

Mary

The letter makes her cry because it is so typical for her parents. Her mother tried to create the impression that it was written by both of them, but failed miserably. She is sure that her father read the letter and signed it and she is sure that her mother rolled her eyes at him for thinking that that meant writing a letter together. It makes her want to go home. She has to smile at Sybil's attempt to cheer Edith up and decides to write a thank you letter to her because it is working. Edith has shared Sybil's letters with her and they are bubbly and full of little entertaining things that happened at home. Mary is sure that Sybil's needs hours for each letter to make them sound exactly the way they are but she doesn't tell Edith so. She asked Edith to write back to Sybil but Edith only shook her head. She still has to sleep in the same room with her and the nightmares haven't changed but her mother's reassurance makes her feel a little less desperate. She wonders if she should tell Edith that their father had to deal with nightmares after returning from the war. Or maybe she should ask her father to tell Edith about it himself. But her mother has probably done that already.