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Residuum--Prologue continued
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2021-02-25 04:38:45“You were able to find a spot somehow, and to grab hold?”
“Somehow,” he agreed. He began to strum his fingers on the arm of the couch intermittently, as if typing out a message using Morse Code.
“And you’ve no idea how long you were there, you say?”
“No.” The answer came quickly, unlike all of the other words that refused to form coherent sentences.
“Do you remember being plucked from the water, then? When the lifeboats finally returned?”
“No.” Equally as easily accessible. “I don’t remember anything again until after I awoke on Carpathia.” He was quiet for a very long time again, before he reconsidered his statement. “That’s not true. I do remember something else.” His voice was soft now, just above a whisper, and the man across the room leaned forward in his chair, straining to hear. “It’s the true reason I’
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Meg nodded and took a deep breath. Worry that something might happen to Charlie was a constant state of mind for her now, with these spikes in panic each time something else presented itself as evidence that he might not be all right, and her heart would be happy when there was no more reason to suspect the worst. “Was he awake when you left?”“He was,” Jonathan confirmed, stepping up to lean against the wet railing beside her. There was no sense in attempting to stay dry at this point, and Meg had given up hours ago, though she did have a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “He asked about you. He wanted to know if you were planning to go to the hospital with him, and I said I’d ask.”She swallowed a lump in her throat. “He didn’t even know who I was when he awoke this morning. I had to remind him. Again.”“I know,” Jonathan said, adjusting his hat. “I believe his memory loss is due t
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Jonathan Lane made his way through the crowds to find a porter or an officer who looked like he might know what was going on. There was one in particular who had been a constant force of good information, and he knew if he was able to find Briggins he’d know precisely why Carpathia had passed the Cunard piers.He found the officer where he expected to, over near where the lifeboats from Titanic were being stored. He was giving directions as the lifeboats were being shifted about on the deck. The man saw Jonathan coming and offered a small smile of recognition. Jonathan was a master at finding out what he needed without troubling anyone or making his existence exhausting. “Briggins,” he called out as he approached. “Do you happen to know where we are headed?”“New York Harbor,” the older man said with a chuckle. He looked tired and the laugh was forced. The entire crew of Carpathia had been worked to t
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Jonathan’s voice was quiet and calm. Meg had known he wouldn’t let her slip away, that he’d notice before she could even get through the door. “I… I was trying to get out of the way.”He knew it wasn’t the truth, yet he said nothing. “I think it would be best if you did as Mrs. Ashton suggested and went with Carrie to the hotel. She’s been a lady-in-waiting for years. She’ll be able to attend to your needs and can help you find proper attire tomorrow. When you are dressed like yourself again, I’m sure you’ll feel much better.”She felt no need to attempt an explanation regarding the fact that she was currently unsure whether she was Mary Margaret Westmoreland, wealthy heir to the Westmoreland Textile Factory, or Meg West, Third Class Passenger. It was late. They were exhausted. She nodded.“Do you want me to tell them who you are?” It was a whisper in her ear so close she
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She’d been in Charlie’s bedroom a few times before, but this time was certainly different. Butterflies fluttered around her stomach, some of the nervous variety, but most of them fueled by excitement.They were sitting on the edge of his bed, the door closed and locked, the drapes pulled tightly. She knew that there were a few servants elsewhere in the house, but they would leave the couple undisturbed at least until mid-morning. Glancing up at him, she could see that he felt much the same way that she did.“It turned out quite well, don’t you think?” Charlie asked, clearly meaning the wedding.“Yes,” Meg nodded.“Even though a few guests certainly had too much to drink.”She giggled, thinking of one older gentleman who had made quite a spectacle of himself trying to climb atop one of the tables to dance. He had been escorted out, but Meg was thankful for the diversion. For once, everyone wasn&r
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Ghosts of Southampton Analysis
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