Echoes of Destiny: Part 16
Doctors Examination
Doctor Lengyel's examination of the unconscious woman brought a sense of reassurance to Mrs Branson. As the doctor instructed her to keep the young woman warm and comfortable, she nodded in understanding. The doctor's presence and instructions provided reassurance to the two women, amidst the uncertainty that surrounded them.
"Thank you, Doctor. We'll make sure she's well taken care of," Mrs Branson said, her voice a mixture of gratitude and determination.
The doctor offered a nod in return. "I trust you will. I have many patients to attend to, and your assistance is greatly appreciated."
Breid's interjection about the woman's possible name, Marie, caught Mrs Branson's attention. She turned to her daughter. "Marie, you say? That's a lovely name. Let's hope we can find out more about her soon."
Breid nodded in agreement. "Remember Ma, I met her in second class the day I was reading my guidebook in the corridor, I told you about her", she reminded her mother. "Ah yes! Now I remember you almost fell because you weren't paying attention", Mrs Branson gave her daughter a mock glare. "Yes, Ma. I hope she wakes up soon and can tell us more about herself."
As the doctor made notes in his book, Mrs Branson's heart went out to the unknown young woman. The contrast between her practical attire and the extravagant clothing worn by some of the first-class passengers highlighted the diverse backgrounds and stories that had converged on this ill-fated voyage.
"I can't help but wonder about this poor girl," Mrs Branson mused aloud, more to herself than anyone else. "What must her family be going through right now?"
Breid placed a comforting hand on her mother's arm. "We'll take care of her, Ma. Just like we promised."
When Doctor Lengyel mentioned listing the young woman as a second-class passenger, Mrs Branson's brows furrowed in thought. "That seems plausible, given her attire and what Breid mentioned. It's just... so many lives have been affected by this tragedy, and yet we hardly know each other. How fragile life is."
Breid nodded solemnly. "It's true, Ma. We're all connected in ways we don't even realise."
"I will have a nurse come in to dress her head wound and bring you a nightgown for her", the doctor said as he left to attend to his other patients.
Mrs Branson couldn't shake the feeling of concern for the woman's well-being. She gazed at the unconscious figure before her, softly stroking her soft dark hair, a silent reminder of the human lives that had been forever altered by the tragedy.
"We'll do our best, won't we, love?" Mrs Branson said, looking at Breid with a reassuring smile.
Breid nodded, her eyes fixed on the young woman. "Yes, Ma. We'll take care of her, just like family."
Mystery Woman
After the nurse had tended to Marie's wound and they had carefully dressed her in a nightgown, Mrs Branson and Breid turned their attention to the items they had found hidden within Marie's clothes. Laid out on the table before them was the ornate diamond necklace and £10.
Breid picked up the money, her brows furrowed in thought. "Ma, £10 is a lot of money. Do you think she could really be a second-class passenger?" Mrs Branson looked thoughtfully "It's possible, after all, your brother Kieran did send us £10," she pointed out, as her hand slipped in her pocket to feel the reassuring weight of the money purse she had hidden there, more than £5 remained from the money her son had given them. Breid's fingers continued to fiddle with the notes absently.
Breid pondered for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You're right, Ma. It's not impossible. This could very well be all the money she had in the world, perhaps to start a new life in America. People come from all walks of life on these ships."
As Breid held up the diamond necklace next, her eyes widened in amazement. "Look at this necklace, Ma. I've never seen anything so ornate before. It must be worth a fortune!"
Mrs Branson took the necklace in her hands, carefully examining the intricate design. She felt the weight of it, and her mind began to wonder. "You know, Breid, I don't know much about jewellery. It could be valuable, or it could be sentimental. Some folks hold onto pieces like this for generations."
Breid's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Like a family heirloom, you mean?"
"Yes, exactly," Mrs Branson nodded. "Or it could be a showpiece, just like that story Mrs O'Dwyer told us about Mrs Hennessy and her paste jewellery."
Breid nodded in understanding. "So, it might not even be real?"
"That's right," Mrs Branson confirmed. "But who knows? It could also be a valuable piece, passed down through generations."
Breid placed the necklace back on the table, lost in thought. "It's still such a mystery, Ma. We can only hope that someone comes forward to identify her, or perhaps Marie herself will wake up and shed some light on her story."
Mrs Branson reached out and placed a comforting hand on Breid's. "We'll do what we can dear. Right now, all we can do is wait and hope for the best."
Together, they looked down at the still unconscious young woman, their hearts filled with a mixture of concern and compassion for the mysterious Marie, a passenger of the ill-fated Titanic.
Finding Old Friends
Breid Meets Captain Grant
Breid was making her way to the dining room, lost in her thoughts, when she heard her name being called. "Miss Branson, Miss Branson!" The voice pulled her out of her reverie, and she looked around to find Captain Grant standing before her, a bit worse for wear but otherwise uninjured.
"Oh, Captain Grant! It's so wonderful to see you," Breid exclaimed, her face lighting up with delighted relief at finding an old friend. "However, did you survive?"
The captain offered a faint smile and began to recount his harrowing experience on the sinking Titanic. "Well, Miss Branson, it was a close call, I'll tell you. I was on board the ship as it went down, I had managed to get a lifejacket at this point and as the ship went down, I was swept off the deck by a torrent of icy water. I felt like I was being pulled under by the cold Atlantic waters. It was so dark! But then I remembered an old sailor's advice – if you're disoriented under the water, just follow the bubbles. So, that's what I did. I saw the directions of the bubbles and I just swam as hard as I could after them. I resurfaced, eventually, I managed to find an upturned lifeboat, and I clung to it along with other survivors until another lifeboat came along to rescue us."
Breid listened intently, her eyes wide with amazement at the captain's remarkable tale of survival. "That's incredible, Captain Grant. You're truly fortunate to have made it through such a terrifying ordeal."
Captain Grant nodded, his expression sombre. "Indeed, Miss Branson, I consider myself lucky. But tell me, how have you and your mother been faring?"
Breid's face lit up as she spoke of her mother and their charge. "My mother is still looking after the young woman you helped to get to the lifeboats. She's still unconscious, but we're hoping she'll recover soon."
Captain Grant's eyes brightened with interest. "Ah, yes, I remember her now. She seemed familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place where I had seen her before."
Breid's curiosity piqued. "Captain, would you like to come with me and see her again? Perhaps you'll be able to remember more about her."
Captain Grant agreed readily, and together they made their way to where Mrs Branson was tending to the unconscious young woman.
Recognising 'Marie'
As they entered the room, Captain Grant's gaze fell upon the young woman. "Yes, I definitely remember seeing her in second class," he said with certainty. "But I'm afraid I don't know her name."
Mrs Branson's hopeful expression dimmed slightly, but she pressed on. "Did the man she was with tell you anything about her, after you left?"
Captain Grant furrowed his brow in thought. "He mentioned they were cousins, and his name was Patrick. He said he was going to find his father who were further up on deck."
Mrs Branson nodded, her mind racing. "Thank you for that information, Captain. Every bit helps. If you happen to remember anything else, please do let us know."
As Captain Grant was about to leave, he hesitated, "There's something else, actually. I spoke to some other second-class passengers, and a few of them remember seeing her on the ship. Her presence was quite captivating, but unfortunately, her name seems to have eluded most people."
Mrs Branson's heart sank a little, but she appreciated the effort. "Thank you, Captain. Your assistance is greatly appreciated."
Captain Grant gave a small nod and turned to leave, only for Mrs Branson to stop him. "Oh, and Captain, I believe this belongs to you." She handed him the pocketbook that he had left in her safe-keeping during their evacuation from the ship.
Captain Grant smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Mrs Branson. I'm relieved to have it back."
With that, Captain Grant departed, leaving Mrs Branson and Breid to continue their watch over the still-unconscious young woman, who remained a mystery even amidst the stories of survival and tragedy that surrounded them.
Updating the Doctor
Mrs. Branson and Breid sat across from Doctor Lengyel in the makeshift infirmary on board the Carpathia. The doctor listened attentively as they carefully recounted every detail they knew about the unconscious young woman under their care, from the practical well-made clothes she wore, to the sturdy boots and warm socks on her feet.
"Her skin is quite pale, doctor, and her hair is a rich, dark shade of brown. She was wearing sensible clothes," Mrs. Branson explained, her voice laced with concern. Dr Lengyel agreed with her, most of the first-class passengers he had seen too were dressed in extravagant evening gowns, delicate shoes and luxurious coats, a most impractical choice for a disaster.
Breid added, "She had a head wound, but the nurse has dressed it and it has stopped bleeding now. We also found £10 and a diamond necklace on her too, hidden within her clothes."
The doctor nodded, taking notes as they spoke. "Thank you both for the detailed information. It's crucial that we provide accurate descriptions to help identify her and reunite her with her family."
After gathering all the necessary details, Doctor Lengyel stood up and thanked them. "I will make sure to convey all this information to the Captain of the Carpathia. Hopefully, with these details, we can find out more about this young woman's identity."
As the doctor left to deliver the information, Breid turned to her mother, her brows furrowed. "Do you think they'll be able to find her family, Ma?"
Mrs. Branson placed a reassuring hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I certainly hope so, dear. With all the information we've given them, and the efforts of the Carpathia's crew, there's a good chance they'll be able to reunite her with her loved ones."
Later, Doctor Lengyel approached the Captain of the Carpathia, delivering the information he had gathered to identify various passengers. The captain read the notes and nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Doctor. We must do our best to ensure that all the lost souls including this young woman are properly identified and reunited with their families."
The doctor's expression reflected the weight of their responsibility. "Absolutely, Captain. It's a small comfort we can provide after such a tragedy."
With a sense of determination, the captain summoned the telegraph operator to send out the messages including, "Unknown woman rescued, second class passenger, possible name Marie, travelling with her cousin Patrick, last name unknown." Hopefully, someone on shore is looking for her thought the telegraph operator as he tirelessly sent out his captains messages.
As the Carpathia continued its voyage towards New York, the efforts to identify the unknown woman remained steadfast, with the hope that someone would come forward to claim her and provide her with the support and care she needed.
The Woman Awakes
The next day aboard the Carpathia, Mrs. Branson awoke from a fitful night's sleep to find her young patient beginning to stir. She motioned to her daughter, Breid, asking her to fetch the doctor. As consciousness slowly returned to the woman, her brown eyes blinked open.
The doctor arrived promptly and observed her condition. "How are you feeling?" the Doctor asked. She brought a hand to her forehead and groggily replied to his inquiries. "I have a headache."
The doctor nodded in understanding. "A headache is to be expected after a head injury like you've received. Can you tell me what you remember?"
With a deep frown, she replied, "Nothing. I don't remember anything. Where am I? What's going on?"
The doctor spoke gently, his voice reassuring. "Don't worry, my dear. You're safe now. You were on the Titanic. Does that sound familiar to you?"
She frowned, appearing lost in thought. "No, not really."
The doctor continued his gentle questioning. "Can you tell us your name?"
A look of deep thoughtfulness crossed her face, and she whispered, "No, I can't."
Mrs. Branson interjected, concern in her voice. "What about your family, dear? Do you remember anything about them?"
Her response was filled with growing fear. "No, not even that."
The doctor consoled her, "There, there, my dear. This is quite common with head injuries. Memories often get jumbled. Just rest for a while. Don't worry, your ability to speak seems unaffected. I don't believe there's any long-term injury to be concerned about."
He turned to Mrs. Branson and offered some guidance. "Give her some tea and nourishing broth. Try to keep her calm. Memories usually come back in due time. It's just difficult to predict when."
With that, the doctor left the room, leaving the young woman in the care of Mrs. Branson and her daughter, Breid. As they tended to her and offered comfort, they hoped that her memories would eventually return and provide some clarity to her situation.
Discussion
After some tea and nourishing broth, their patient fell back into a peaceful sleep. Mrs. Branson and Breid took the opportunity to have lunch for themselves before returning to their patient's side. As the hours passed, the young woman would drift in and out of sleep, gradually becoming more coherent with each awakening. However, her memories remained elusive.
During one of her awake moments, Mrs. Branson leaned in and began to converse with her. "You were already unconscious when Breid and I found you. You were in the company of a young man named Patrick," she explained. Marie nodded, though the details seemed distant and unfamiliar to her.
Breid chimed in, hoping to trigger some recognition. "I saw you in second class and thought your name was Marie. Does that sound familiar?" Marie pondered for a moment, repeating the name to herself. "Marie... yes, that does sort of sound familiar."
Through their conversations, Mrs. Branson discovered that Marie was English, her crisp cool accent revealing a good education. She was articulate and even managed moments of wit, despite the dire circumstances. Marie could recall the days of the week, the months of the year, and had an understanding of money. Mrs. Branson showed her the £10 and the necklace again, prompting a flicker of recognition from Marie, although she couldn't be entirely sure.
They then posed a question to her: "Is it okay if we refer to you as Marie?" Marie simply shrugged and replied that there was no other name to call her. She found the name Marie somewhat familiar, and in her current situation, any name seemed as good as another.
Marie's emotions were a mix of relief and freedom, even though she couldn't pinpoint exactly why. Breid offered reassurance, mentioning her brother Tom, a reporter, who would be able to help once they reached New York. "Tom works for the New York Post," Breid explained. "He's resourceful and well-connected. Once we get to New York, he'll be able to assist in finding out who you are and reuniting you with your family."
Marie's face brightened slightly at the thought of potential help and answers. While her memories remained stubbornly distant, the prospect of assistance from Tom gave her a glimmer of hope amid uncertainty.
Missed Opportunity
Amidst the unfolding events on the Carpathia, Captain Grant tirelessly worked to piece together the puzzle of Marie's identity. He interviewed passengers and crew members, hoping to gather any possible information. In his search he even came across their dining companions from the Titanic, Mr and Mrs Godwin. When Captain Grant asked how they both survived, they simply said that when Mr Godwin had brought Mrs Godwin to a Lifeboat, just before it was lowered and as there were still places, the seaman in charge just told the men present to get in, 'that there was no point men dieing for chivalries sake alone'. So, Mr Godwin joined his relieved wife. Captain Grant congratulated them on their good luck. While he was speaking to them, he asked them did they remember a woman of Marie's description in Second-class? They simple answered "No!"
Captain Grant continued on his quest, his dedication led him to approach even Mrs. Delwimple, who had been deeply affected by the loss of Lady Mary Crawley. On this afternoon, Captain Grant found himself in conversation with Mrs. Delwimple on the deck of the ship. The sea breeze ruffled their clothes as they spoke, and the topic of Lady Mary emerged naturally.
"Such a tragic loss," Mrs. Delwimple lamented, her voice heavy with sorrow. "Lady Mary was a beacon of elegance and charm. Her memory will forever remain in our hearts."
Captain Grant nodded in agreement and offered his condolences. "I am sorry for your loss; you must miss Lady Mary's presence is deeply", Mrs Delwimple used her damp handkerchief to dry her eyes. He then gently shifted the conversation "Speaking of tragedy, I am trying to ascertain the identity of the second-class passenger who was injured during the rescued, I am hoping you might have heard or seen something?"
Mrs. Delwimple looked puzzled for a moment before her face brightened with recognition. "Ah, yes, I've heard whispers about that poor soul. But I didn't bring a maid with me on this trip as I am only going to be in New York for a short time, so she can't have anything to do with me."
Captain Grant frustrated by this classist view pressed on, "Even though you didn't have your maid with you, is there any possibility that you might have information on the young woman or seen her? Any details at all that might help us identify her?"
Mrs. Delwimple hesitated, her brow furrowing. "I'm afraid I haven't given much thought to the second-class survivors. I am just concentrating on getting home, I must let Lady Mary's family of this great loss."
Captain Grant nodded respectfully, though a sense of frustration tugged at him. He could not know that Mrs. Delwimple was the key to unlocking the puzzle that was Marie, but Mrs Delwimple was preoccupied with Lady Mary's memory prevented her from thinking clearly. For Mrs Delwimple was so entrenched in the class system that she belonged to, that she could not fathom a refined and obviously aristocratic woman like Lady Mary Crawley being mistaken for a common middle-class woman.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Delwimple," Captain Grant said with a gracious smile. "I'll continue my search for any leads on the survivor's identity."
Unfortunately, Mrs Delwimple frequent retelling of Lady Mary's demise to her fellow first-class passengers, was so convincing, that even the redoubtable Margret Brown didn't make the connection between the missing Mary and the amnesiac Marie.
As he walked away, Captain Grant couldn't help but feel a mixture of determination and frustration. He had spoken to many passengers, and yet the identity of the mysterious survivor remained elusive. Little did he know that the answer was right before him, obscured by the social divisions and biases that held even the most well-intentioned individual's captive.
Meanwhile, Marie continued to forge a bond with Mrs. Branson and Breid, finding solace and strength in their presence. The trio leaned on each other, united by the hope of uncovering Marie's identity and rewriting her story.
Captain Grant reported his findings faithfully to the trio, including that respectable Mr and Mrs Godwin had been found alive. "Oh! I am so glad to hear they are alive and well, their poor daughter in Maine must be desperate with worry," Mrs Brason sympathised thinking of her own children in America and Ireland. "And Mr Brown, the schoolteacher?" enquired Breid hopefully. Captain Grant shook his head sadly "I am sorry Miss Branson, I haven't found Mr Brown on my investigation," "Oh!" Breid said dejectedly.
And if Breid had to go off and have a little cry to herself thinking, of the intelligent young man, they all had dinner with only a few days ago, well neither Marie or her Mother was going to say a thing about it.
Note: You will be happy to hear that I have almost reached the end of the story. It is mainly editing now, which takes me longer than to write the story in the first place. I think there will probably be five or six chapters more. Timeline wise I am up to July 1912, so the story is fairly whipping along. It's getting close to Tom and Mary meeting.
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