Meg’s tears had dried up by the time her mother finished speaking, and even though the reasoning seemed sound, Meg didn’t think it was much of an excuse. Her entire life she had been of the opinion her mother was also evil, just like her uncle, and she wasn’t able to budge her stance one bit based on these remarks. “Mother, we’ve decided we will marry before my birthday on one condition, and one condition only.”
Mildred’s face perked up just a bit as she turned to face her daughter. “What’s that?”
“You will testify to what you witnessed the day Bertram took advantage of me, just before I left to board Titanic.” The woman was already shaking her head back and forth. “If you want to show me that you truly do care about me, then you will do this. Otherwise, we will wait, and you will get nothing. And you can rest assured there will be no more wire transfers of funds from the Ashtons.&rd
That explanation made the rage well up inside of Meg again. “She needed help—so you dropped everything to help her? Where were you when my uncle was carrying me up the stairs?” She was shouting now, and she glanced back at Charlie to see he’d taken a few steps in her direction. She shook her head at him to let him know she was all right.“I tried to follow him, I really did,” Ezra said, moving closer to her himself. “Your mother stopped me. She said… she said if I did anything to intervene, she’d let my father go. Meg, what was I to do? My father was so ill. He needed the money he earned here to pay for his medication. Now… he’s on his deathbed, Meg. If I had tried to stop your uncle, my father would be out on the streets and likely dead.” He had tears in his eyes; his voice was imploring. He looked the picture of a son in misery, unable to help his father.“So you chose to leave him behind
Meg was still able to keep up with his words, but they’d begun to lose meaning. The feel of Charlie’s hand on her shoulder gave her courage. “Your father believes that my mother poisoned my father?”Ezra nodded once, sharply.Charlie’s grip tightened, and Meg pressed down hard on the lids of all of the boxes in her mind—including the one that held memories of her da. Thoughts of him pushing her on the swing, just under the tree there. The pram she’d pushed around the garden after he brought it back from his trip to New York. The lilacs he’d pick and tuck behind her ear, calling her his little flower when he did so. Without wiping the tears from her cheeks, Meg looked Ezra directly in the eyes and said, “What happened to Charlotte?”“I don’t know,” Ezra mumbled, seemingly shocked that she’d reversed topics so quickly.“What happened to her?” she asked again, mor
They began to make their way through the kitchen, and Meg noticed Tessa had moved on to some sort of baking. She offered a smile but said nothing as they passed through. Meg made a mental note to make sure that Tessa received enough money that she wouldn’t have to work anymore. It was the least she could do for the woman who’d served her mother and put up with her uncle for so long.Mildred was standing in the foyer speaking to an officer Meg didn’t recognize. The other officers Det. Weber had mentioned must have arrived, because several men in uniforms stood both inside the entryway and on the porch. Officer Brown was speaking to the ones on the porch, and Meg decided to wait for him to notice her rather than announce her presence and be forced to get on with her report of what happened with her uncle any sooner than necessary.“Mary Margaret,” Mildred said, turning to face her daughter. “You’ve returned. Did you get everythin
Mildred only raised her eyebrows at Charlie but didn’t say a word about his blunt statement of what Meg certainly saw as the truth. “I shall go upstairs and fetch Bertram for you,” Mildred said, glancing at the detective before she turned to ascend the stairs. “It will give me the opportunity to say goodbye to him privately.”Meg was certain that last comment was a jab at her, her mother implying what Meg had always known was true, that the relationship between her mother and uncle was more than either of them were ever willing to admit to, but Meg ignored it. The emotions running through her mind were too much, even for her carefully guarded compartments, and she felt like she might begin to crumble at any moment.“Miss Westmoreland, we are prepared to take your statement whenever you are ready,” the detective said quietly, a weak smile pulling at one corner of his mouth out of politeness.“Give her a few moments,
The First Class dining experience aboard the passenger liner they’d booked the next day to take them home was nothing compared to Titanic, and the ship was much smaller, which made the rocking more obvious, but as Meg sat next to Charlie at dinner, she was just happy to have him with her. She had been right in thinking he’d be more at ease on the way home.They’d insisted on having Jonathan and Carrie accompany them, and no one had objected. Dr. Shaw belonged there with them as much as anyone else, but Meg enjoyed watching Carrie’s face as others served her for a change, and Meg thought she looked lovely in one of her gowns.They’d spoken at great length about all that had transpired, and yet, from time to time, someone would still muse aloud, bringing the most astounding topics back to the conversation. Meg hadn’t allowed herself to shed a single tear for either Bertram or her mother, and she was hopeful that Ezra would get
“The brain is still quite a mystery,” Dr. Morgan was saying as he sat across from Charlie in a plush velvet chair, Dr. Shaw seated nearby. Circles of smoke lingered around them from the cigars of several dozen gentlemen seated in similar groupings, discussing business and other inconsequentialities. Jonathan and Edward were sitting across the room, and Charlie glanced in his friend’s direction every once in a while, noting that he seemed unusually amused about something.“I’ve been reading Freud’s theories of psychoanalysis,” Charlie said with a nod. “Do you think there’s any truth to his findings? Particularly regarding the unconscious mind?”Dr. Morgan nodded. “I can’t say that I completely agree with all that Freud has to say, but I do with his theory that the unconscious mind plays a larger role in our actions than we previously understood.”“Do you believe memories can be tr
Meg sat on a plush sofa in Maurice’s shop near Columbus Circle. From here, she could see the people outside bustling by on a warm June day, and she wondered where they were going and if any of them would mind if she went along. She’d rather be just about anywhere else.“I like the taffeta,” Grace was saying, “though with that tulle underneath, it seems a bit too… poofy, don’t you think?”It wasn’t Meg she was speaking to, so she remained silent, watching a plump, older woman proceed down the sidewalk with a little boy who she believed might be the woman’s grandson. He seemed reluctant to walk, and Meg imagined they must have had a disagreement. Perhaps he wanted a snack from one of the many street vendors, and Grandmother had said no….“Meg? Are you listening?”She turned her head to see Pamela addressing her. “I’m sorry—were you speaking to me?”
Dr. Morgan’s office was on the third floor of a five story building, nestled between two similar looking offices, and Charlie attempted to be discreet as he slipped inside for the first time. He knew that the field of psychiatry was growing in acceptance, yet he didn’t necessarily want to make an announcement to the world that he needed help. However, the accompanying chorus of voices that stepped off of the elevator with him was a reminder that he hadn’t been capable of getting better on his own.The receptionist was an older woman with a nice smile. She asked Charlie to wait one moment while she informed Dr. Morgan that he was there, and though there were a few leather bound chairs to choose from, Charlie chose to stand instead. He peeked beneath the curtains at the few autos and pedestrians traveling about below and wondered if any of those people belonged in here as much as he did.“Mr. Ashton!” Dr. Morgan said, his quiet voice still s