The first sign of rescue was a sparkling rocket launched from somewhere beyond our sight. It set up a great cry among the boats, and some started pulling for it immediately. Lightoller called out for them to stop, that the boats should stay together until we saw the ship. We watched as more rockets came up, each getting slightly closer. The ship, when it eventually came into view, seemed so small when compared to the one we had been on. It only had one funnel, painted a bright red and black. I heard Moody mutter from behind us, "Of course, it has to be Cunard."
I could see an officer standing up in one of the boats, a flare sputtering green light in his hand as he signaled to the ship that was approaching. It slowed, stopping some distance from us. The closest lifeboat started to move toward it, and there was a bit of a lunge from the others before the officers restored some order among them. Each boat would go up one at a time, empty its passengers, and then would be hauled up, according to the word that was passed back. The gangways of the ship were open, rope ladders dropped down to the boat approaching. I saw people climbing, and some who were so stiff they had to send down rope slings to haul them up to the top deck itself.
I huddled closer to Will, taking his hands and trying to work them between my own. Once I had gotten some warmth back into them during the night I had my gloves on him, and only now put his own back on. I had been trying to keep both his hands and his feet moving throughout the night as Lightoller had said to, making him lift his legs and move his feet out of the water that was still in the bottom of the boat. He grimaced as I bent his hand into a fist and back out, "It hurts."
"I thought you would want to climb and not be carried."
"I don't rightly care at the moment." He grumbled, his voice faint, "I can't even fathom what we'll face up there."
I began moving his fingers back and forth, breaking a thin sheet of frost on his gloves. "Then let me do this for you, and if you need anything up there, I'll be there too." If I could do something for him I didn't have to think about what had happened. About what would happen. All I had to think about was working his hands, opening and closing them to work the muscles. It was slow work, especially as I was trying to avoid hurting him. I looked up as I worked, taking time to watch the unloaded lifeboat being hooked up to a cargo crane and hauled up to be stowed on the bow deck.
Our boat, so far back, was one of the last to come up. The men shuffled around, clearing the way for any women on board to head up first. There was only me, so I made my way over the benches, balanced by several of the sailors when I wobbled on my feet and the gentle waves rocked the boat. I followed the directions of a stewardess on how to climb up the rope ladder, my fingers burning with pain as I gripped the wooden rungs. The second I set my foot on the linoleum of the deck I was immediately enveloped in a steamer rug and a hot drink pressed into my hands.
The staff supported me over to an area away from the gangway, which I was thankful for for my feet felt wooden and clumsy as I tried to move forward. I leaned back against a wall, glad to take the weight off of my feet that I couldn't feel. It was almost painfully warm inside, my skin tingling where the hot air hit it. Some of the staff tried to hustle me upstairs but I stayed still. I would see the entire boat off before I moved I told them. It went slowly, the sailors each being greeted as I was, with a blanket and something warm to drink. Some of them nodded to me as they were led away, and I couldn't help be puzzled, until one sailor stopped. His tanned face split into a smile, "You're a hell of a lady, Miss." A steward spluttered out something about using that language in front of a woman and he was quickly led away.
Lightoller came up, downing a cup of tea in one go and standing by the gangway to help up the others. Will came last, stiff and lurching slightly as he gained the deck. A rug was held out and a cup of coffee given, and then he was by my side. He reached up and touched my lip, "You're bleeding."
I reached up, my fingers coming away bloody. I didn't feel it. My lips must have cracked from the cold. I slowly looked down at the blood on my fingers, brushing them against the steamer rug to clean them. A steward coughed, handing me a cloth to press against my bleeding lips. He looked to Will, "Are you an officer of the Titanic, sir?"
Will nodded wearily, "Yes, I am."
"We'll see to your wife sir, but I know some of the others from White Star are speaking together and wanted all officers brought to them."
Will gently gripped my hands, tightening them around the cup of tea that I could barely feel the heat of. "She's not my wife, but she is very dear to me."
"We'll get her warm sir, and fed. If you'll follow me?"
I looked up at him, noting how his eyes seemed to not hold onto anything but mine. "You'll find me, just like you promised. I'll be fine." I squeezed his hand slightly, I would have kissed him but it was strange to have all of these people looking at us. It had seemed to matter so little back out on the boat, but now I was painfully aware of the eyes on us.
Will nodded, slowly walking up the staircase as the steward led him away. I could barely move, stiff and pain wracked as I was. A stewardess came forward, after I stumbled and almost fell, helping me move up through the ship. I looked over at her. "Have you seen a tall man, brown haired, older? In a suit?"
She looked away. "No ma'am, what class were you in?"
"First."
"You'll be up in the saloon then." She muttered, shifting our course slightly. She brought me to a large dining room, although much smaller than it had been on Titanic. The tables and chairs had been cleared away, blankets and pillows taking their place. She settled me onto a blanket, promised to send the ships doctor my way and left. I looked around, trying to recognize anyone. I saw Madeline Astor, her arm held close and her face pale. God only knew what this would do to her pregnancy. The Countess of Rothes, heading out with a pile of blankets in her arms, talking about distributing them to the other classes. But most I did not recognize, and I saw so few men. I could see the Reichsters, and I quickly drew the steamer rug up around me for some protection, but they seemed to hardly notice me. Whatever calm attitude they had had in the boat had left, and Zachary looked dangerously sober at the moment. I huddled back against a wall, looking through the crowd for any trace of Mother of Father. It seemed little more than people, covered in blankets, wandering from group to group and asking after loved ones.
And then I saw my mother, pale and drawn but standing.
I struggled up, fumbling my way forward. "Mother!" The Reichsters could go to Hell, all I cared about was getting to her even as I could barely feel my feet and keep my balance. I bumped into a table and used it to support myself as I stumbled to her.
She turned. "Anastasia!"
I threw myself into her arms, desperate to hold her. She was cold, but her grip was strong. The lavender water I was so used to smelling on her had gone, replaced by the smell of salt water. Her voice was hoarse as she dragged her fingers through my hair, placing a kiss on top of my head. "Have you seen him?"
I didn't need to ask who she meant. "No, but I only just came on."
Her grip became so tight it was almost painful. "I will go and look in the other areas. Stay, rest."
She moved better than I did, holding a blanket around herself as she made her way out of the saloon. I tried to sip at my tea, thinking that I would only drink a little because who knew when they would bring us more. But it was hot and strong and I drank it all in a few swallows. My throat felt warm, and I could feel it warming my belly, but I was still so cold. I staggered over to a wall, pushing my back up against it, out of the way and where I could sit down. A steward came by with another cup, beef broth this time, and a Marconi form.
"Here miss, let's get you warm. Any word you want to send? Free of charge."
I took the cup from him and considered the form, the pencil he held hovering over it. People would need to know, friends and the few relatives that we had. Our business manager would see to that though, "Yes, please send to Adam Keller at Dalian Shipping in New York."
The pencil scribbled, "Alright, what should it say?"
I thought for a moment. "Mrs. Dalian and daughter safe, Mr. Dalian unknown. Onboard Carpathia. Further instructions to follow. From Anastasia."
He wrote quickly but cleanly, tucking the form into a pocket. "We'll get this sent right out."
Then I was left alone until the ships doctor arrived. He didn't have any assistants, and saw to some of the other women before he came to me. Madeline Astor was directed off to a vacated cabin, considering her condition. The doctor fortunately did not seem to have to so much, merely ordering most of the others to consume as much hot food and drink as they could before he came to me. He looked rather frazzled, but he spoke kindly, asking me to tell him if I felt any discomfort in my limbs as he moved them.
"Please, sir, I am stiff and it hurts to move. My legs and feet especially so." I gasped as he worked my arms, the muscles sore and screaming. I felt like I could barely lift them after, and it took everything to hold onto the blanket.
"If we do not move them they will hurt more," he replied as he examined my feet after pulling my boots off. They looked so pale, almost blue on the toes. When he pressed his fingernails against the bottom of my foot I could not feel it. He called for a hot towel and wrapped my feet tightly, rubbing them while they thawed. It took three heated towels before I could begin to feel them again It hurt, a lot, as the blood rushed back into them, as their color came back, and I will not be ashamed to say that I cried as he bent them back and forth. But it was only the pain. I shed tears but I did not sob, did not shudder. There was no emotion left in me to let loose. A donated pair of stockings was brought over, and a pair of large woolen socks.
The doctor secured these, then brought over another blanket to wrap around them. He then offered me a flask of all things, "We don't have much in the way of pain relief Miss, and this should help warm you."
I took it from him, taking a large swallow. I almost gagged at the taste of the whiskey, but it felt a trail of fire as it went down my throat. I gulped down another swallow before he took the flask from me. "Thank you, that was much needed."
He flicked the lid back on, "Rest, Miss. All you need is rest now." The whiskey wound up mellowing me out, and making my eyes heavy. I guess I dozed off at some point. All that passed through my mind was what happened. No pleasant dreams of balls and cotillions, but screaming people pushing their way forward, the sharp rip of gunshots, and all through it the great moaning of Titanic as she twisted farther down, the great pressure crushing everything. And someone was shaking me, talking, and I bolted upright in a fright.
Will was knelt down by me, a worried look on his face. "Ana, what is it?"
I shook my head, I wouldn't speak of it. "Just a bad dream."
"You were screaming and shaking." He looked back, and I saw the other people in the saloon had moved away, some frightened but some looked at us with open hostility. I briefly wondered if their anger was directed at Will or me. My throat felt scratchy, I must have terrified them. My mother had always told me that I sometimes spoke when I slept, but I had never screamed before.
"A nightmare, then." I grabbed onto his hand, pulling him down towards me. "Please, just, I don't want to talk about it."
"Have you been seen to?" He asked as he knelt down.
"Yes, my feet had to be warmed." I told him. "Nothing else. What of you?"
He moved closer to me, sitting and throwing an arm around me and drawing both blankets over us. I was close up against him, noticing that his coat and jacket had been replaced with a ill fitting shirt and trousers. "We sent a wireless to New York, we're headed there. A roll call of passengers will be done later. As for now, we're to rest."
"And you didn't need any medical attention?"
"No, simply needed to get warm." Will shivered a little, and I pressed my hand against his side. Even through the shirt I could feel the slight chill on his skin. Nothing like it had been though.
Not caring who saw I pulled myself close to him, resting my head on his shoulder. "You saw the other officers?"
"Yes, all except Wilde made it off. And the Captain."
I closed my eyes, the lids heavy. That kindly old Captain, gone. So many, just gone. "Please, tell them when we get to New York not to find a hotel. Our house has more than enough space for all of you."
"I can't ask that of you, Ana."
"I know, which is why I'm ordering it." There was a brief lull as a round of stewards came in, offering more hot drinks. I wanted to ask if they had any more of that whiskey, but I accepted a cup of chocolate instead.
"Have you found your family?" Will sipped at a cup of coffee he grabbed from a passing steward.
I blinked, shoving down any feelings. "I found Mother, but I haven't seen Father."
"Oh God, Ana. I'm so sorry." I could see him trying to figure out what to say next, but I just buried my head against his shoulder. He brought a hand up to press against my back, and all I wanted was to simply stay there. Together we sat on the floor of the dining saloon of the Carpathia. Will was beside me, both of us too cold, too stunned to try and say anything more. To even think. All I could do was lean on him.
Occasionally a steward brought by something warm, tea or coffee, or a message for Will about what White Star was planning. Ismay was apparently one of the few who could even keep moving, keep doing something. When asked for a response Will would only give a few words, and then stay quiet. Some bland food was brought, I barely even noticed it as I gulped it down. All I cared about was that it was warm. The sun slipped away, and the lights of the dining saloon were turned far down to allow for us to sleep.
At some point I nodded off, pillowed on Will's shoulder. Whatever sleep I got was rough and short, and soon enough I was awake, looking out at the people by us. Some quietly wept, many were asleep, and I could see a few smoking borrowed cigarettes near the door.
Mother had come back, wrapped in her own blanket and a cold cup of tea by her. She was sat at one of the few tables that hadn't been moved. Her hair hung loose around her face, her head drooped, and her arms wrapped around herself. Her voice was flat. "He's gone. I searched everywhere."
I couldn't even summon the energy to cry. To even feel. Father was gone, dead. It was just a fact to me then. The sky was blue, fire was hot, Father was dead. I couldn't feel any grief rise in me, just a great emptiness. "What will we do?"
"Survive. Do something." She blinked without seeing, her eyes drifting to Will. "And him? What are your plans for him?"
"At this point, keep him close. I can't lose him too."
"People will want his head."
"They are welcome to try me." I wished I could have summoned some anger to my voice, some emotion, but my voice was weak and insubstantial. "I intend to house the officers in the dock house, Will said we're going back to New York."
"Is that proper?"
"I don't give a damn at this point." I moved slightly as Will pulled me closer to him, his head shifting in some dream.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Mother's lips. "You are so like him." Her face crumpled then, shoulders shaking, but she made no noise. I removed Will's arm from where it was wrapped around me, gently moving over to sit next to her. She did not throw herself into my arms, merely hiding her face in her hands. I ran my hands along her back, trying to offer some comfort.
"When we get back, go to the Fifth Avenue house and shut the door. No callers, and I will have all the business matters sent to me. I can deal with it, Mother." Half hoping to convince myself, I held her close. "You've carried the weight long enough Mother, let me take it." I sat with her, not speaking but merely holding her. Eventually her grief wore her out, she mumbled something about needing a bed, but there were none to be had. Some passengers had vacated their cabins, but they'd been given to survivors in worse states than us.
I grabbed a couple pillows, a blanket, and got Mother situated somewhere closer to the heater in the room. More of the women were gathered by it, and they made room as she came over and laid down. I left her there, moving back to the area Will and I had claimed. Before he had laid out we had placed a couple pillows on the floor as our makeshift bed, and the floor was hard but warm against me as I settled back down by him. He had warmed throughout the day, and I pressed myself close to him as I threw my blanket back over us. I had just closed my eyes when I felt him breathe in sharply. I started, rising so I could look at him. "Will?"
"Ana, oh thank God." He had that wildness in his eyes again, what I had seen back on Titanic, but it was better than the daze he had been in all day. He buried his face in my hair, loose around my shoulders, and I felt him shivering. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around him, feeling him finally warm again in my arms after he was so cold earlier.
"Will, what is it?" I asked, bring my hand up to cup his head. He didn't answer, just grasping me tighter. "Will, tell me."
His voice, already low, was muffled further by my hair and where his face was pressed against me. "I thought to stay on the ship, to die."
I froze. "What?"
"It seemed the right thing to do, those people would die because of my failure, why should I not join them? I thought about using the gun, that it would be quick. And then I was in the water, and I thought that would send me off too, but the boat was right by me and I went for it. I don't quite know why. I swam, pulling men close to me on, but hoping that I would sink before too long. But I didn't and they pulled me up, and then I pulled up Moody and we were so far from the wreck. I thought, why not throw myself into the water after? Give another man a place?" I didn't cry, but my fingers clawed at him, pressing him to my breast, desperate to hold him close.
He spoke quickly, as if the thoughts were spilling out of him. "And then I remembered the promise I made you, but I knew you would not want to live with a man who had such shame, with a killer. So I thought I might slide off sometime in the night, while the others were waiting. I was so cold, and it seemed so easy. But Charles kept calling out, asking me to try and get our boat closer or to move some men to even it out. I almost stepped off when Lowe was towing us back, but Charles brought me up to the front, and then you were there and I didn't know what to do. I knew you would hate me, think me a murderer or a coward for not dying."
I pulled him flush to me, quieting him. "Hush Will, there is no shame in living. I would rather have you here, next to me, than gone. Like I said in the boat Will, I love you. Nothing will change that. You are no coward for living, and I will make you see that. I swear it." He shivered in my hands, his voice catching as he tried to speak and I pressed innumerable kisses to his head, murmuring how much I needed him by me, how much he meant to me.
I can not remember all that I spoke, words of comfort that I half remembered lovers whispered to each other in books, the pain I felt in losing Father and how I would not have been able to go on if I had lost him too, and the way he kept me going, gave me something to focus on aside from what had happened and the terrifying thought of the future. I rocked him like he was a child, and spoke all kinds of nonsense, nothing about what had happened but about what we would do. About the yacht in Newport, and how he would sail it and teach me, how I would host a ball at the Fifth Avenue house and only tell a few people it was in costume and we would laugh to see them among the others. How we would watch fireworks for the Fourth from the dock house, where the windows were so large and so high it was almost like being among the sparks.
Anything to get his mind calmed, to settle him. It lasted throughout the night, hours I am sure, and I felt him still as he fell back asleep, leaving me alone with my tears. I would never let him be alone, not until those thoughts of his had passed. I would only send him off with the other officers, they would keep him focused. But at night, when those dark thoughts reared up, he would be in my arms.
My heart broke that night, with Will breathing softly as he held me close and Mother curled into a ball by the heater. A crack from losing Father, a crack from seeing Mother brought low, and the final blow from hearing Will say he wanted to die. But I took each of those pieces, pulling them back together. Down from somewhere deep inside, from my very will, I pulled steel bands and wrapped them around the pieces. I would hold them there like a splint on a broken bone, they would hold my heart together until it healed.
No matter how long it took.
