"A Thousand Points of Light"
Author: carmen_085
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters from James Cameron's Titanic, not any real people. I do not own Titanic or any characters from the movie. I do own all original characters.
Summary: Fifth Officer Harold Lowe and Titanic's Nurse Clara Barnett lives become intertwined on the ship's maiden voyage when a young drifter is brutally beaten.
Chapter Fourteen
It hadn't been easy but after the inquiry moved out of New York and she'd not heard a word from Harry, Clara knew it was time to move on. The White Star Line was holding the pay of all surviving crew until things were resolved in America and everyone was safely back in England. It made no sense but of course they were expecting lawsuits and apparently needed even her measly earnings to cover it. Still she needed to make a living and immediately she went back to work at St. Luke's. Nearly everyone was surprised to see her, all wanting to know how she'd survived. Clara smiled and concocted an all out lie not able to bear the truth. An officer put her into a boat with a group of injured passengers, simple as that. Moody's young face flashing through her mind as she exhaled a shaky breath. Had she gone when he told her to it might have been just that simple.
After the let down they went to their corners , still staring and whispering from a distance, obviously disappointed she didn't have more gory details. So she worked, putting her head down and doing what she always had. The entire experience of Titanic and Harry something of a dream as the days went by. Steven was still going between her apartment in the Bronx and her aunt's place in Manhattan. He was scheduled to return to Fort Drum in a couple weeks, and she honestly couldn't wait to be alone again. She was grateful for his support but more than anything she wanted to get back to her normal life.
And she as trying to do just that, but the more she tried the more she found herself falling backwards reliving the night over and over again. Reliving those last moments on the Carpathia when something…anything…with Harry was still possible. Yes, she told him to go away. That she didn't want to see him anymore. But how could he just do this ? Walk away without so much as an explanation or an I'm sorry. After she'd had time to examine her feelings she thought that maybe she'd overreacted; she didn't even know him that first night aboard. He as an adult just as she and free to do what he wanted; she'd never held the illusion that she was the first woman he'd ever been with- he was a sailor after all. But still, even now, she couldn't shake the notion that all she had been was a passing fad; 'the plain one after the actress '.
New York was beautiful in the spring and as she walked the four blocks between the hospital and her apartment she tried to think of nothing for a change. Not of Harry or Titanic or all those hundreds of people flailing in the North Atlantic. The papers were still covering the Inquiry although in New York they had shifted to the recovery efforts and return of the dead. Fortunately John Jacob Astor had been found intact and returned to his family. The memorial service and funeral shut down Fifth Avenue for an entire day with all the cameras pointed directly at his eighteen year old widow. Word was she was also pregnant with his child fueling tabloid fodder and speculation. It was sick and the poor girl looked as if she might collapse on several occasions.
Clara exhaled as she came to the vestibule of her building collecting her mail before proceeding up the stairs. It had been another long day of stares and whispers and she wanted nothing more than a hot cup of coffee and a good book. She'd thought about getting a dog or a cat for herself seeing as how she had no intention of leaving New York ever again. They'd always had animals around while living out west and it was something she now missed. Perhaps tomorrow she'd go down to the shelter and see what she could adopt. The notion brought a smile to her face for the first time in weeks.
Coffee percolating on the stove she stripped her uniform off and in its place pulled on a pair of cotton pants and an old cable knit sweater. Her attire would be frowned on by most women of the day but the way she grew up made her not care. She had been made to work and have a real life, not to be a decoration. Sighing she flipped through her mail finding a bill and then another, but behind those was an official correspondence from Senator Smith's Office in Washington.
Clara immediately sat up her chest instantly going tight. She paused for a moment staring at the envelope before sitting it down on the coffee table. What the hell could they want with her ? She didn't know anything, had never been on the bridge, and certainly had nothing to do with how fast they were going and why. She swallowed hard steadying herself on the counter wondering if they'd found out she and Harry were together while he'd been on duty. It was hardly anything that they did besides kiss that one time in boiler room right before Lightoller showed up.
With shaky hands she took down a mug scarcely able to fill it without burning herself. What if they wanted to insinuate she distracted him? Lay bare the five days of their whirlwind relat….well whatever you wanted to call it….before the entire world. Published in the papers and mused on by the entire country. Not bothering with cream or sugar she brought the hot black liquid to her lips and took a greedy sip trying to steady herself. Get a grip, Clara ! This wasn't her to fret over something she didn't even know to be true. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, she couldn't change what happened now, she just had to deal with this and move forward.
Staring at the letter for a moment she finally relented snatching it off the table and tearing it open. Her eyes glossed over the words not quite believing it as a train ticket fluttered to the floor.
'Miss Clara Barnett, Registered Nurse of the RMS Titanic, has been requested to appear before the Senate Inquiry Committee on April 30, 1912."
She inhaled sharply, that was in two days. Bending over she picked a train ticket off the floor for tomorrow night leaving Grand Central Station at six pm. What if she just didn't go ? She had nothing to tell them. Eyes scanning to the bottom of the letter her shoulders sunk with resignation.
'By penalty of law appearance is mandatory.'
A summons was behind the letter. Clara didn't know how she felt right now; what they were going to ask of her frankly made her want to vomit but also she assumed she would see Harry again. One last chance for her to know if she ever meant anything to him at all.
Harry stood over the toilet waiting to vomit. His mouth watered and he closed his eyes willing his stomach to just empty and get it over with. All day long he'd been fighting the urge and now that he was free to let it go nothing would come. Four hours sitting in front of that prick Smith.
"What is you experience Mr. Lowe ?"
"When did you join Titanic ? What were your impressions of the ship ?"
"Did you participate in the lifeboat drill, Sir ?"
"What did you make the ice warnings Mr. Lowe?"
"Is it true you reduced the speed of the ship at one point ? Why ?"
Harry groaned coming to rest on his knees leaning against the porcelain miserably. He'd never been called to testify for anything surmising that nothing he ever did had mattered enough. The questioning was non stop and at times repetitive with the majority of it leading to no conclusion whatsoever.
"How many were in your boat, Sir ?"
"How long did it take to reach the water ?"
"How far did you row away ?"
"How many men were in your boat ? Were they all rowing ?"
And then….then
"How long did it take you to go back ?" Harry cleared his throat fairly confident he was correct.
"Forty-five minutes Sir." Smith looked down at the paper in front of him something akin to a smirk forming on his face. After a moment he shook his head.
"Officer Lowe it was actually an hour and a half before you went back…." Harry stared at him speechless.
Some eight hours later and he was still at a loss for words. All this time everyone had told him how brave he'd been going back and pulling a few hapless souls from the water. Harry knew that wasn't why he went back, though, and while he smiled and nodded it simply wasn't true. He went back for Clara, hoping and praying that she wasn't in the water and if she was that he would find her in time. Now he knew neither were true. He was, in fact, a coward only returning to the wreckage after he knew no one would be left alive and therefore he himself had no chance of being swamped or pulled into the water. At the end of the day it had been made clear. He cared about no one but himself, not even Clara.
He was such a piece of shit. And he could think of nothing else. Nothing.
Relenting that what he wanted wasn't going to happen, Harry slammed the lid of the toilet down leaving the bathroom feeling no better. The hotel they'd put them up in while in Washington was posh with a large Victorian style post bed and a separate sitting room with a thick green settee. Leaning his head against the window he stared out at the empty streets. Incandescent lamps illuminated the sidewalks and cherry trees in a soft pink light.
Tomorrow was April the 30th and he'd been away from home for almost a month now, twice as long as he had assumed he'd been gone. Not that he had anything back in Wales waiting for him, but still it offered some degree of comfort and familiarity. Of course there would be an Inquiry by the British Board of Trade and then presumably an investigation by the White Star Line, all of which would require his mandatory presence. But still…he would be at home with the memory of Titanic fading away if only just a bit.
Harry wasn't sure what he would do when it was all over, for the first time in his life wondering if he still belonged out on the sea. The entire experience of Titanic making him see the rootless, unpredictable existence of a sailor in another light entirely. Exhaling he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool glass, not like he could go do anything else at this point anyway. Feeling himself sag against the wall Harry finally believed that maybe his father was right.
He was utterly pathetic, useless, and in the end had amounted to nothing at all. And worse than all of that; a coward.
Clara had been to Washington once before for Steven's enlistment but not since. The city, no where nearly as big or as populated as New York, was nonetheless still overwhelming in its own rite. As the nation's capital it had been developed much quicker than perhaps any other place. While Grand Central Station was still very much under construction with only a few tracks operational, Union Station had been open for a few years now and was a large, very busy transportation hub. Ascending the stairs, Clara stopped for a moment to adjust the bag on her shoulder.
She'd donned one of her better dresses before leaving New York, a long dark green frock that buttoned from the waist up. Over it she wore black cape leaving her long brown hair loose and falling over her shoulders. Some women looked at her as they passed; their hair pinned up and hats on their head she must have appeared so plain and pathetic. A bit self conscious she wondered if she would come off the same tomorrow morning in the inquiry. It would not be her style to pin her hair up and wear some ridiculous hat. She was a working woman who made her own living, not a trophy on a man's arm. Pushing her feelings aside Clara remembered she was here to do a job and answer their questions the best that she could, nothing more.
Falling into the slipstream of the crowd she was swept toward the exit without much effort. For the two nights she would be in Washington, the office of Senator Smith had secured her a hotel room at the Hotel Continental. A block from Union Station it was easy enough to find just across the park from the US Capitol which shimmered brightly against the night sky. Pausing for a moment she exhaled slowly.
And then, of course, there was Harry.
On the train someone had left the late edition of the Washington Post in her seat back. She'd not been following the Inquiry nearly as close once it left New York, with only snippets of testimony available in the Times. In Washington, however, it was all anyone could talk about. After a few moments of hesitation, wondering if she really wanted to know she snatched the paper up and looking around unnecessarily she unfolded it. Clara couldn't help but to gasp; apparently that afternoon had been almost nothing but Harry with the article describing his testimony as drawn out and at times combative. Her lip turned up slightly, well at least some things didn't change.
Eyes scanning the paper, most of the testimony had been concerned with the operation of the ship, the management of the lifeboats, and who was giving the orders the night of the sinking. Equal parts perplexed and comforted she continued to wonder why on earth they wanted to speak with her, clearly the answers they wanted were in regard to the functioning of the ship. Sighing she continued to read on, her heart stopping for a just second near the end. Reading and rereading the final paragraph she felt part of the wall around her heart begin to crumble.
'Officer Lowe had apparently not realized it took him nearly an hour and a half to return to the wreckage as Senator Smith rendered him speechless and stricken with the news. Unable to go on with testimony, the Inquiry was recessed for the day resuming with Officer Lowe in the morning.'
On the Carpathia, Harry had never spoken a word to her about what he'd seen that night. Of course she knew he went back, everyone knew that, but what had actually happened she didn't know. The moment she woke up and he'd fallen apart in her arms seemed like confirmation enough that whatever it was had been absolutely unspeakable. She thought perhaps he'd be ready to talk about it eventually, but she had no intention of forcing him. Time and fate got in the way of things, though, and now as she sat here she began to fear it was worse than even she could imagine.
She knew that coming here meant she would see Harry again, perhaps for the last time, and she thought she'd prepared herself for that. What they had she would aways be grateful for, but moving forward it just didn't make sense. She wasn't going back to sea, and he had no reason to stay in America. He could be free to pursue whomever he wished and she wouldn't be waiting on him.
The man at the desk handed her a small key as boy- well a teenager- with an eager smile rushed around to take her bag. "I've got it Miss."
There was no need for it, but she saw the boy had a job to do and a living to earn so she handed over her bag and followed him toward the electric lift.
"What brings you to the Capital Miss ?"
Clara folded her hands as she looked at her reflection in the golden doors. A convincing lie didn't come to mind so she thought perhaps it might be best to just keep it vague.
"I'm here to testify." He looked at her, his eyes instantly going wide.
"For the Titanic ? Were you a passenger ?" She shook her head.
"No. A crew member." They both fell silent as the lift clanked and rattled stopping on floor three. The young man pulled open the inner doors and then the gate beyond that. She could tell he wanted to ask her something; his sidelong stares more than a little obvious. Handing her bag off he looked a bit sheepish forcing a smile.
He was young and obviously curious. Clara assumed he was wondering about her; a woman traveling alone, here to testify about her involvement in one of the biggest stories of their time. So she indulged him offering a friendly smile. "What is it ?"
He looked down at his shoes and then back again wondering if perhaps he'd lose his nerve after all. "I was just wondering Miss….what was it like ?"
Her heart skipped a beat as the smile fell from her face. "The ship you mean ?"
He shook his head, "No. All those people in the water…what was it like ?"
The next morning, with her stomach tied in knots, she walked across the lawn toward the Capital. Her testimony was scheduled at ten sharp but unable to sleep most of the night she set out just a little after eight. She knew he was just a curious kid, but that question- What was it like ?- seemed to be on repeat at the forefront of her mind.
She wore the same dress as last night, saving the one she'd brought her in bag for the trip home. With no way to press either of them she'd hung them in the bathroom hoping the steam would release some of the wrinkles. Instead of her hair long and flowing, though, she brought it up into a bun at the nape of her neck. No sense in giving them any additional reasons to lay into her.
Immediately upon stepping into the Capital she was surrounded by men in black suits, lawmakers from all over the country she assumed. It became clear to her rather quickly that this was not a place for women, especially unaccompanied women, and within moments an older gentleman approached her.
"Can I help you miss ?" His tone let her know this wasn't about helping and more about determining if she had an actual reason to be there.
"The Titanic Inquiry ? I'm here to testify." Immediately his entire manner changed.
"Oh my..well..right this way, Miss." He nearly tripped over his shoes guiding her down one hallway into the next. Briefly she wondered if he was leading her no where at all, even out the back door initially quite suspicious. Only when he stopped outside a conference room with a heavy wooden door did she realize that she was here, the stern voice of a man clearly audible from inside. "Alright Miss, they're just inside here….quiet when you go in now."
No shit. Like she was about to walk in and yell 'I'm here !'. Clara forced a polite smile and nodded.
"Thank you." He left her there alone as she took a deep breath. Reaching for the door she swung it open letting herself into the room silently.
"Officer Lowe, at what time in the evening did you decide to go back to the wreckage ?" Senator Smith stood at the podium directly opposite the witness stand. A large semi-circular table surrounded both with rows of seats on all sides behind that. Harry stared at his lap, his shoulders rounded and haunched he shrugged.
"I thought it was forty-five minutes but just yesterday I was informed it had been twice that long."
"And how long is that ?" Clara leaned back against the dark paneling as she watched with her lips slightly parted. No matter how much she'd convinced herself that things were over with Harry, seeing him now was enough to tell her that was bullshit. There was no way she could look at him and not feel something.
Harry shook his head reluctantly meeting Smith's gaze. "An hour and a half, Sir."
Clara couldn't help but to gasp softly. Harry looked nothing like the man she last saw on the Carpathia. He was gaunt with dark circles around his eyes and pale lips that pulled into a thin line. Slouched and shrugging in deference, the fire behind his dark eyes was all but gone.
"Do you know how long a person can survive in freezing water, Mr. Lowe ?" Harry was silent as he looked away. He felt awful, and there was nothing more that he wanted at this point than for all of this to be over. He didn't care what anyone else thought because at this point no one was harder on himself than he was. Bringing a hand up he rubbed his forehead.
"A few minutes I would imagine, Sir." Smith paused before letting out something akin to a cluck.
"Actually it's ten to twenty minutes." Harry said nothing, what did it matter now. "So it begs the question, Officer Lowe, why bother going back at all ?"
He brought his lifeless eyes up staring at the wanker, Smith, wanting to tell him he didn't have a fucking clue what he was talking about and this entire inquiry was the biggest sham he'd ever seen. How easy it was for a man to sit here and judge when he himself never had to wade through a sea filled with more than a thousand dead bodies. Fuck it, he thought, might as well give the prick what he wants.
"I went back looking for someone." Clara couldn't stop the audible gasp that escaped her lips. Instantly Harry's eye flicked up not believing even his own ears. It had to be some kind of cruel joke that she was here right now. Their eyes met, and instantly he felt himself sit up a little straighter. The only spot of color in the entire room her dark green dress reminded him of the deep dark forests of her childhood, the ones she told him about that first night waking the decks of Titanic. He held her gaze not wanting to look anywhere else.
"Looking for someone ? Someone who was still alive ?" He stared at her as he replied without hesitation.
"I went back looking for a woman." Smith narrowed his eyes.
"A woman ?!" Harry finally turned his gaze back toward Smith.
"Yes. A woman I'd met on the ship, someone that I promised to see into a lifeboat and failed to do so." He had no intention of outing Clara right now, of putting her on the spot and alluding that their time together was responsible for anything that happened to the ship at all. But still he would't lie.
Thankfully Smith let it be shaking his head as he looked down at the papers in front of him, "Well Officer Lowe there are plenty of people whom you failed to see into a lifeboat that night." Whispers broke out int the galley as Smith looked around. "That will be all for right now Officer Lowe. We will take a brief recess and proceed with the next witness."
Chairs slid out and voices rose as Clara stood in place. She didn't know what to say, she knew Harry went back- she assumed it was out of duty. Never did she thing he went back and willingly waded through a sea of bodies looking for her. Assuming she was one of them while hoping and praying it wasn't true.
"Miss Barnett ?" Smith called her name. Taking a deep breath she began to move, her insides shaking from the culmination of it all. Some of the men in the galley, other members of congress she could only assume, stood up and moved about as she weaved her way through a sea of dark suits.
Just like that first night in Southhampton they were inexplicably drawn to each other, the crowd parting as they changed places. Harry swallowed hard; gray eyes looked at him and right through him. He was in no position to say a fucking thing to her let alone touch her or ask for any sort of forgiveness, especially not now when every eye in the room was on them.
Clara exhaled a shaky breath. His eyes were still so dark, but instead of raw emotion they were flat and lifeless. Having apparently seen too much now they were unable to see anything at all. And yet she hoped he could still see her. In fact, that was the only thing she could think about right now with all the hurt and anger disappearing almost instantly. Clara wondered if she was really this weak or if his man simply had ahold of her like no one else ever had.
It wasn't the time or place for a reunion of any sort. But still as they passed, she felt the back of his hand brush against hers. She gasped softly, an electrical current shooting up her arm, and she knew right then it wasn't over; not if they didn't want it to be. Just a simple touch caused part of Harry to crumble and another part of him to soar, and for the first time in two weeks he felt his heart beating once again.
Normally Harry left after his own testimony, not caring to waste any more time listening to Smith's inane line of questioning. Today, though, not even God himself could pull him this room as he settled in a chair near the back. In the front Clara sat in the witness chair, her natural beauty providing such a stark contrast to a room full of crusty old white men. While Harry was beyond elated she was here, he also could't help but to feel guilty and utterly sick- it was her association with him that caused this. Dragging her into this witch hunt when she had absolutely no responsibility whatsoever for the ship.
"Can you state your name for the panel please ?" Smith's voice brought the galley back to silence as Clara cleared her throat, her face a mask of anxiety.
"Clara Evelyn Barnett, Sir." Smith nodded pressing on quickly.
"And can you state your position on the Titanic and what it entailed ?" Harry knew this asshole already had all this information and then some, such a waste of time.
"I am a Registered Nurse, Sir. That was my position on the Titanic; seeing to the patients in the infirmary, performing room calls, handling any onboard injuries of the crew or passengers."
"Is this how you met Officer Lowe, Miss Barnett ?" The prick got right to it as Harry felt a flare of anger shifting in his seat. For her own part, Clara's nerves instantly settled realizing exactly why she'd been called here in the first place. For a moment she stared at Smith silently. If he thought she was a delicate flower about to bend to his will he had another thing coming.
"Yes it is, as well as Officer Moody and Officer Lightoller. Ship board injuries are apparently very common." Smith pursed his lips clearly miffed by her answer.
"Well Miss Barnett, is it usual for a ship's officer to assist the nurse in caring for patients ?" She shrugged.
"If they aren't on duty I suppose they are free to do anything they wish." A few in the galley laughed at her cutting honestly while Harry couldn't help but to smile.
Smith paused staring between her and his paper, "And where was the ship's doctor ?"
"Dr. OLoughlin made rare appearances in the infirmary; mostly supervisory. For the most part the care and managements of the patients had been left up to me."
This time Smith laughed shaking his head as he looked around the room. "But you're just a nurse, how can that be ?"
Just a nurse. Just a nurse.
Clara licked her lips. "You would have to ask him, Sir. I assumed he had every confidence in my skills." She paused for a moment before adding, "As well as in his brandy." The crowd gasped with a few chuckling.
"Miss Barnett…." Smith threw her a stern look. In the back of the room, Harry's lips broke out into a smile. "This is an official inquiry and your responses must at all times be proper."
In reply Clara said nothing simply nodding. Strangely Senator Smith was a rather warm looking fellow, with wide brown eyes and a large nose with lips to match. She imagined when he did smile he probably looked quite friendly. Clara read he was from Michigan, born there before the Civil War and living near the frontier most of his life. In another circumstance they might have gotten along rather well.
"Now Miss Barnett on the evening of April 13th Officer Lowe came to the Infirmary to tell you that a man had been burnt below decks, is this right ?"
Clara remembered that night clearly and she did not hesitate to agree. "Yes Sir that is true."
"Right and you decided to go with him to the boiler room to see the patient for yourself ?"
Again Clara nodded not immediately seeing where this was headed, "The report was that he was badly burnt, Sir. I went in the event that he couldn't be moved."
"And what was the situation in the coal bunker Miss Barnett ?" As the senator questioned her she got the feeling he already knew the answer, simply needing her to corroborate that it was true.
"I didn't go into the coal bunker but instead treated the man in boiler room one. After a short time Officer Lowe and the foreman came back out and reported there was a fire smoldering inside, apparently since leaving Southhampton." A few in the crowd gasped as her eyes immediately went to Harry.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening here. Harry was angry, to say the least, not at Clara but at Smith. She had no responsibility in the functioning of the ship and had been brought here simply to be interrogated for her connection to him. How Smith found out she even existed was a fucking mystery.
"And then what did you do ?" Had she not been looking squarely at Harry she would have seen the corner of Smith's lip turn up.
"We returned above deck and continued about our duties; myself to the infirmary and Officer Lowe to the Bridge."
Smith paused staring at her before shaking his head. "Before you returned to your duties there was something else, was there not ? A dalliance between the two of you ?"
Harry shot out of his chair ready to fly across the room and strangle Smith on the spot. Immediately a hand was on his shoulder pushing him back into the chair. Out of seemingly no where Lightoller appeared with a stern look on his face. Harry could not contain the thinly veiled hostility, however, and through gritted teeth he challenged his senior officer.
"How dare he ?!" Lightoller came to sit beside him not removing his hand from the younger man's shoulder clearly harboring a certain degree of fear regarding what he might do next. The room broke out into whispers as Clara looked clearly uncomfortable.
"This isn't about her." Lightoller's smooth British accent hissed in his ear. Harry's eyes flicked toward him for a moment. "It's about us, and doing anything he can to make us look bad."
Clara took a deep breath. "Officer Lowe and I had developed a relationship while aboard. After leaving the coal bunker we got caught up in a the moment. It wasn't appropriate and I know that." Her blunt honesty took the wind out of his sails. Quickly regrouping he persisted.
"Were there other times when the two of you got caught up in the moment ?" Another woman may have been reduced to tears, giving in to Smith's persistent questioning.
Flatly she replied, "No."
Upset that she was making him look foolish prying relationship details from her like a cheap tabloid, he abandoned his previous line of questioning and turned back toward the ship.
"Miss Barnett, do you know if Officer Lowe reported the fire to his senior staff ?" Harry wanted to fly from the chair for the second time today. Why in fuck's sake was he asking her this ?
She took a deep breath, "Yes he told me he reported it to…" She stopped trailing off considering what she was about to do as her eyes wandered toward Harry and next to him, Lightoller. The older man looked back her, the corners of his mouth twitched up ever so slightly. Offering her a solemn nod he let her know it was alright; the decisions he made were his to defend. Clara looked back at Smith. "He told me he reported it to Officer Lightoller."
A few gasps in the crowd as all those who knew Lightoller was in the room turned and stared at him. For his part he sat up a bit straighter and stared straight back. Looking back down at his papers, Smith took his glasses off.
"All right that is all Miss Barnett." She took that as her cue to step down. Instead, however, she stayed firmly put in the chair.
"Aren't you going to ask what it was like ?" The entire room fell silent as Senator Smith looked up, clearly confused. "That night…all those people in the water." Realization dawned on him as his lips pulled into a line. "Everyone else has asked me, why not you ?" Harry's heart stopped in his chest for a moment.
Clara became acutely aware that Smith was staring at her like a crazy person or perhaps something even worse- a woman who has just spoken out of turn. Something entirely wild and free, and fierce like nothing he'd ever seen before. No matter how long ago it was, Clara was still that little girl playing on the prairie, her dark hair shining in the evening light she ran around barefoot with skinned knees and dirty hands. A man passing through had once asked her mama if she'd fucked an 'engine', claiming there was no way a little girl as wild as she wasn't at least half red. His smart mouth was met with the business end of a shotgun before he got the message and rode off cursing them all as crazy.
That was still her, that wild little girl playing in the dirt ready and willing to do anything in order to survive. Just like her mama she was fierce and unapologetic, fighting for what was right.
And none of this was right- at all.
When she began speaking again you could hear a pin drop in the room, "It took a while for people to actually believe the ship was sinking. A lot of them didn't want to leave, the officers and crew having to fight with them to get into the boats." She paused shaking her head. "Eventually it became obvious and that was when everyone began to panic. Pushing, shoving, men elbowing their way forward and throwing women overboard in the process. That was how ended up in boat 14, men were hanging off the side, threatening to tip the boat and everyone in it straight to the sea." A few in crowd gasped. "When the angle of the ship began to increase and the bow was washed under you could see the fear on people's faces. The boats were gone and the only hope of survival was to stay on the ship for as long as possible so everyone began to run aft."
"I was washed off the ship near the front and by fate alone Officer Lightoller came up behind me and pushed me up and onto the keel of Collapsible A, which was overturned and drifting away. He got on behind me, and that is where we stayed, soaked and shivering, without so much as a paddle to row away from the ship. Men were clambering on, some fell back off into the water others held on begging for help. No dared move, though, the situation far too precarious." Her eyes flicked to Harry and Lightoller in the back both of them stared at her, the smallest flick of a smile on Lightoller's face.
"The air was filled with screams of terror as the ship pulled near vertical. You can't imagine the sound, Sir. It was deep and guttural- primal even- an utterance that came from deep inside without conscious effort or knowledge." She met his eyes holding his stare before continuing. "I was the worst thing I'd ever heard." Taking a deep breath she looked away. "And then the ship sank and I knew there actually was something worse."
"Miss Barnett…" His tone was warning, as if she had nearly exhausted his patience. Clara didn't care, though, this man wanted the truth and she intended to give it to him.
"It was silence, Sir. That's what was worse." The protest on Smith's lips died as he looked back at her. "It didn't happen right away, no, before the silence was the worst, most mournful crying you could ever stand to hear. Begging and pleading for one of the boats floating nearby to come back. Violent thrashing and churning of water. Beseeching prayers to God above. But then….then it slowly faded until there was nothing at all. Absolute silence of more than a thousand unfortunate souls who had just perished." She looked down tears coming to her eyes. "Once in a while you would hear a plop. I found out later that was someone letting go, falling back into the water from whatever piece of debris they'd clung to. We were surrounded by death for hours, alone in the middle of ocean, unsure if anyone would ever come." She took a deep breath looking back up.
"Sir, fifteen hundred people died, and their families deserve an answer. I know you're here to try and find that answer and you should. But please don't look down at your papers and think you have the right to judge us for what we did or didn't do. While you and everyone else in this room was safe and warm in their bed that night we were alone in the middle of the North Atlantic; freezing and fighting to survive. And Sir, believe me when I say no matter how many people you interview there you will never really know what it was like. That night was full of unfathomable horror and unconceivable suffering beyond even the sickest sort of imagination." She met his eyes. "It was hell on earth."
TBC….
So there is obviously a reunion with Harry coming. I was going to add that to this chapter but wanted to post. I plan to do a "dream interlude" around 3000 words next and then two more chapters before wrapping it up.
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