Chapter Text
Kate didn’t know why she had smiled.
The man was a stranger. A first class stranger. A completely unknown, irrelevant man with a roaming eye and clearly little to no interest in the young woman by his side. Kate typically made it a point to avoid such men, to return their gazes with a withering look of her own—she was very good at giving withering looks. On more than one occasion, she had silenced Pat with a single glance. But the first class man had looked at her and, instead of being irritated by his gaze, she had smiled.
All of these thoughts raced through her head in an instant. She immediately excused herself–it was growing late and she was tired–and hurried down the stairs. She wondered if the man was watching her leave but she resisted the urge to turn around. She didn’t care. Not really. Why should she? The man may have been attractive but there were plenty of other attractive men within her own class. Men like Tommy. He was very attractive. He was very suitable. And, he was Irish–always a blessing. So what if there was no future with him.
No future?
She stopped walking so abruptly, she had to grip the handrail to keep from falling. She didn’t know why that thought had popped into her head. There was nothing wrong with Tommy. He was handsome and sweet and they got along so well. He certainly seemed to care about her. There could be a future together. She just didn’t know if she wanted to marry him.
A young couple walked past her, one on either side, both turning their heads to look as they passed. Kate could feel the blush creeping across her cheeks. She was grateful that no one could hear the line of thoughts running through her head. God, how they would laugh! She was being ridiculous, foolish. Not at all herself.
She sighed as she turned the corner. There were the beginnings of a headache starting to form just behind her eyes, threatening to become something monstrous. It had been a long day and she was looking forward to her warm bed.
Or had it?
She frowned as she tried to recall what she had done between breakfast and lunch and dinner. She had sat, she had talked, she had stared out at the sea. Time certainly moved differently on a ship. It was the only explanation.
Kate reached her room and let herself inside. As her roommate was nowhere to be seen, she had the place to herself. That was more than a small blessing. She really didn’t mind having to share a cabin with other people—that was only practical—but it was nice to have a bit of privacy, even if it was only short-lived.
She sank onto her bed and, hearing something crinkle, reached beneath the blanket for a small stack of letters. She smiled as she flipped through them. There were letters from her parents, her friends, one from Cal—
Cal?
Dropping the rest of the letters, Kate pulled that one from its envelope.
‘Kate, my dear,’ it began. ‘Philadelphia is a fine city and I don’t mind having grown up there. But I’m glad to have gotten out and I’ll be glad when I can finally return home to you. Not that I am not grateful for the opportunity to see my oldest son. Victor has really grown into a new man lately (I think we both know who's responsible for that transition…Audrey is a Godsend!) and I am so, so proud of him (Arthur too…marrying Fern was the smartest thing he had ever done in his life). But too many sights in Philadelphia remind me of times I best not remember. If you were here by my side, perhaps they’d be more bearable. But you remain in Spokane and I am seeing to business on the other side of the country. It may as well be the world…’
Kate frowned as she lowered the letter. Victor? Arthur? She didn’t know anyone by those names. Of course, she didn’t know anyone called ‘Cal’ either. It didn’t make any sense. Unless, it was her roommate’s letter. But, no. It was clearly addressed to Kate and she was the only Kate in the room. And it had been tucked right into the middle of her other letters. It was her letter. Somehow…
Perhaps Pat was playing a joke. That was it. It was the only explanation. He had written the letter—or, rather, he had found someone else to write it. His own handwriting was smaller, plainer. But it was a poor joke. Most of the letter talked about projected steel profits. If her brother really wanted to get beneath her skin, he’d fake a love letter.
Not that he would ever do such a thing. He wasn’t cruel.
Kate looked back at the letter once more, her eyes falling to the end.
‘Every day that I am alive, I thank God that I found you. You are the best part of my life and I would willingly and happily give up every penny I own if that was what it took to be with you. I love you dearly, Cal.’
A prickling unease slid down her spine and she shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she said quietly. She slipped the letter back into its envelope, burying it deep within the stack of other letters. “It’s a terrible joke or it’s…” She didn’t know how to finish the thought. “Must be losin’ me mind. It’s Pat that’s rubbin’ off on me. Him and his ‘everything’s feelin’ strange today’ and all that.”
With that decided, she returned the letters to her bag—where they should’ve been in the first place. The day had started off strange so, of course, it’d end the same way. But once morning comes, everything would be back to normal. She was sure of it.
~~~
Sarah dreamt of lilacs, a dream so vivid and real that she could almost still smell them after she had opened her eyes. She sighed happily. “That was a dream,” she murmured. “I was lost in a maze of—“ She turned, expecting to see John lying beside her, and stopped short. His pillow lay undisturbed, the blankets on his side smoothed out as though no one had slept there at all. She blinked, unable to figure out how he had managed to get out of bed without waking her, particularly as he had been sleeping near the wall.
Assuming he must be in the restroom, she dressed and settled on the sofa to wait. Every few seconds, she glanced toward the door, listening intently for his footsteps. The clock on the wall ticked unceasingly and loudly. After several minutes, her smile faded as her worry grew. Maybe he had gone for a walk and simply lost track of time.
Sarah stepped out of the room. There was an older couple walking by, chatting softly about breakfast but, aside from them, the corridor was empty. She paused for just a moment as she decided on a plan of action. She’d check the library first. If she had left the room before dawn, that was where she would’ve gone. Nothing like a quiet moment and a hot cup of tea with a good book. But when she reached the library, she frowned at the only occupant—an elderly woman hunched over a letter. There was no one else there.
The smoking room came next. John didn’t smoke, but he did enjoy a good card game. Enough so that he would wander in on occasion. But the space was empty, the chairs pushed neatly in, the lights still off.
She looked up at the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes until breakfast was served. John hated being late. She felt a sense of unease start up in the pit of her stomach. Where was he? Hurrying up to the boat deck, she did a quick lap around the ship, grateful that the promenade wasn’t any larger. Twice, she squeezed between lifeboats and peered over the side where the waves lapped gently against the hull. Of course, she didn’t see him. Even if someone had fallen overboard, the sea would’ve swallowed them fast. And John never was much of a swimmer. The thought nearly made her legs give out.
Sarah checked the time again—ten minutes—and turned toward their room for one last check. But the room was still empty and she forced herself to take a deep breath. Maybe he was waiting for her in the dining room? Perhaps they had been circling around each other for a half hour and he, also, was going crazy, wondering where she went. They’d have a good laugh about it later, she was sure.
Once in the dining room, she stood on her toes, scanning the crowds of people. Several familiar faces looked in her direction, smiling pleasantly. One waved her over. But none of the faces belonged to John.
“Ms. Clarke!” A young man called out to her. “I’ve saved you a seat.”
“Oh, Mr. Beasley,” she replied. “I’m afraid I’ve misplaced John. You haven’t seen him around, have you?”
He blinked. “Who?”
“John,” Sarah repeated, a little sharper. “My husband.”
The young man looked puzzled. “Your…husband? What does he look like?”
“You’ve seen him before.” Her voice faltered as the unease in her stomach started to grow into panic. “We spoke with you just last night.”
“You did?” He frowned. “I’m very sorry, but I wasn’t aware you were married.”
For a heartbeat, Sarah stood there, waiting for the punchline, the laughter, the reassurance. Waiting for John to jump out from whatever corner he was hiding in. But he remained hidden and Mr. Beasley remained silent, albeit concerned. “Of course, I’m married. I have my—“ She held up her hand, expecting to see her small engagement ring, glittering on her finger. But there was nothing there. Her throat tightened. “Excuse me,” she murmured as she turned away from the young man and the bustling room and the smell of breakfast. Whatever joke John was trying to play on her, he was taking it too far. There was nothing funny about the fear that seemed to fill her from head to toe at the thought of being alone. At the thought of having lost her mind. Of having lost everything she thought she knew.
~~~
“Good morning!”
Cal opened his eyes to see Rose hovering over him, a large smile on her face. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if he had gone to bed with her. It would’ve been an overly bold thing to do on a ship, surrounded by nearly every person they knew, but he had had a few drinks the night before—he assumed. But then he realized she was already dressed and, even drunk, he would never have been so foolish as to try anything right in front of her mother. No, she was fully awake, composed, and had clearly let herself into his cabin.
He sighed. “You’re cheery this morning,” he said.
“Of course, I am,” she replied. “It’s looking to be a beautiful day. Now.” She pulled back the blanket. “Hurry and dress or we’ll be late for breakfast. I’ll wait for you.” With that, she turned and left the room.
Cal took his time dressing. He wasn’t so much concerned with being late to breakfast as he wasn’t very hungry and he knew he could have something brought to him later—the perks of being first class. When he finally opened the door, he found Rose hovering just on the other side.
She smiled. “Are you trying to make us late?” she asked. “Come on. My mother’s waiting.” She wrapped a gloved hand around his arm and began steering him toward the dining room. “So, about our wedding…”
He immediately tuned her out and he kept her tuned out over breakfast. He had heard more than enough about their wedding. He’d go to City Hall the moment they reached land, if only to make it all stop.
I wonder if that woman is married. The thought flashed through his mind, accompanied by the third class woman’s smiling face. He froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He didn’t know where that thought had come from. He didn’t care if she was married. It didn’t matter to him. He didn’t know her and he wasn’t likely to ever know her. He was being absolutely absurd.
“You should’ve seen where he was staring.” Rose’s voice suddenly broke through his thoughts.
“Excuse me?” Cal could feel the weight of everyone in the room staring at him.
“That woman in steerage,” she said, pausing to sip her tea. “You were staring at her.”
“I was doing no such thing.” Why did she have to speak so loudly?
Rose shrugged. “I mean, she’s attractive enough, I suppose. But she’s poor. Cal, you could never marry someone poor, could you? You’d rather be unhappy for every year of your life than lose your fortune.” She looked directly at him with an oddly penetrating gaze.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Money could always be earned. It’s not everything.” Not everything? The words surprised him. Growing up, he had been told repeatedly that the most important thing in life was a comfortable savings. An extravagantly large, comfortable savings. Sure, money could be earned, but that took time, effort, and there were never any guarantees.
“Could you earn it?” she pressed. “What was it your father always said about you…you’re weak, cowardly…pathetic—“
Cal stood abruptly with the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. Silence fell over the room. “That’s enough.”
“Cal.” Rose tugged gently at his arm. “What are you doing?” She whispered the question just loud enough for him to hear.
“I am not pathetic.”
“Of course, you’re not pathetic,” she agreed. “Why would you even say such a thing? What has gotten into you?”
“But you said…”
“I said nothing of the sort. Mother and I were discussing flower arrangements.”
“Oh…” He hastily returned to his seat. “I was…I just thought…” Doubt crept in and he frowned. He could have sworn she had said it. She had said it loudly. He looked around the room. Everyone was busy enjoying their breakfasts; not a single person looked toward him. Perhaps he had been mistaken. He shook his head.
“Are you feeling alright?” Rose looked at him in concern. “You don’t seem yourself.”
“I’m fine,” he replied, but he was starting to wonder himself.
“Honestly, you look a bit flush. Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”
Cal’s hand shook as he placed his napkin on the table. It may have all been his imagination but Rose’s words still rang in his ears. “Perhaps I will. If you’ll excuse me.”
He pushed back from the table, leaving his shirred eggs half-eaten and hurrying back to his cabin before she could offer to accompany him.
But when he opened the door, he inexplicably found Rose waiting for him. He startled at the sight. “You could’ve walked with me instead of rushing ahead to surprise me.” His heart pounded loudly in his chest and, for a moment, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He took several slow, deep breaths in an attempt at forcing everything to return to normal.
“I called for a cup of tea,” she said, ignoring his comment. “Honestly, I think you may be coming down with something, but I hope not. It would be terrible for you to be sick during our wedding.”
“I don’t want tea.” He settled onto the sofa.
“Well, you’re getting tea. Dinah will be here in a moment with it.”
“Who?”
“Diane,” Rose answered. “Our stewardess.”
“I thought you said Dinah.”
“I said Diane.” She gave him a strange look. “But does it matter? A stewardess is a stewardess.” She moved to adjust the pillows around him. “You have been worrying about the strangest things lately. What is going on with you?”
“I don’t think I want to get married,” Cal admitted. “Not to you.”
Rose was quiet for a moment as she studied him and then she let out a laugh. “Oh, you are too much.” Before he could stop her, she lightly kissed his cheek. “I think I’ll go see what’s taking Diane so long. I’ll be right back.”
The moment she was gone, Cal bolted from the room, desperate to get away from her. He didn’t think it’d be possible to avoid her forever—it wasn’t that large of a ship—but even an hour or two alone would be a welcome blessing, even if he had to hide in third class to get it.
~~~
“I thought I might open up a bank,” Tommy was saying as they left the dining saloon. “Me da says it’d be the best way to make me fortune and I agree.”
“But ye don’t know a thing about bankin’,” Pat couldn’t help but point out.
Tommy shrugged. “I don’t think it’ll matter much,” he said. “I can count and it’s only a bit of countin’ that’s needed.”
Pat looked at his old friend as they walked, unable to tell whether he was being serious or not. Admittedly, he didn’t know a great deal about banking but he assumed the occupation involved a great deal more than just a ‘bit of counting.’ But, more than that, Tommy had never expressed any interest in doing anything of the sort and the idea of him working in a bank in the middle of some large city was unimaginable. It must be a joke.
“What about yerself?” Tommy asked him.
It was Pat’s turn to shrug. “I can’t say I’ve given it much thought,” he admitted. He knew he should’ve had everything figured out before they had left Ireland. Kate was going to have an absolute fit once they arrived and she found out that he had less than a plan about their future. All he really knew was that he enjoyed physical labor. Nothing said a full day like feeling exhausted by the end of it. But, just beneath that idea was another one involving management. He had no experience managing anything or anyone but he suspected he might be very good at it.
“There must be something,” Tommy pressed.
“I was…it sounds silly but I was thinkin’ maybe…Tommy?” Pat had looked over at his friend only to realize he was no longer there. “Where’d ye go off to?”
He picked up his pace and turned the corner, expecting to see his friend just on the other side. There was no one there. For a moment, Pat stood in the middle of the corridor, confused on what to do. They had been walking shoulder to shoulder. Talking. Then Tommy vanished as if the ship had swallowed him whole. Either he’d gone ahead or turned back, but doing so without a word didn’t fit him. Unless he had said something and Pat had simply missed it. Kate was always telling him how terrible he was at listening. The thought that his sister might’ve been right about such a thing made him frown. He hated that she was always right. It hardly seemed fair.
In the end, he decided to go on. There was no reason to turn back to the dining saloon and they had both talked about going on deck. It was likely that Tommy had merely kept walking while Pat had gotten lost in his own thoughts.
He turned another corner then stopped short. The corridor ended abruptly in a blank wall. “How…?” He frowned, more than confused. He knew his way around the third class areas of the ship. At least, he thought he did. There shouldn’t have been any dead ends between the dining saloon and the well deck. It was merely a brief stroll along the corridor and up a flight of stairs. It was almost insulting in its simplicity. He rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to map out the route in his head. Something wasn’t adding up.
Pat started to retrace his steps, thinking he’ll go all the way to the dining saloon, if necessary to figure out where he was. He hadn’t gone far when he spotted an unfamiliar staircase leading up. He paused for a moment, as he looked at the too tempting steps. He couldn’t possibly become any more lost than he already was and it could lead to somewhere interesting–he had heard of something called a ‘Turkish Bath’ and was exceedingly curious.
His mind made up, he ran up the steps, hoping for the best. But the staircase led out onto another identical corridor–was there anything on the ship that wasn’t a corridor?
He walked slowly down it, looking at the doors on either side. He tried a few only to find them locked. Maybe they were passenger cabins or supply rooms. Neither were all that interesting. At last, there was another staircase, this one leading down. Relief rushed through him as he hurried down it, certain it would drop him back where he belonged.
Except it didn’t.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered as he turned in a slow circle. “Where am I?” He didn’t understand how he could’ve gotten himself so turned around.
~~~
Sarah was starting to feel desperate. She had already spoken to two stewards and even stopped a passing officer for help. Each one had offered the same polite, but concerned variation of ‘it’s a large ship’ and ‘I’m sure he’s around somewhere.’ None of it was very helpful. When she brought up her fear of him falling overboard, she was informed that if such a terrible thing had happened, someone would’ve seen it.
“But if it was dark,” she pressed.
“Ma’am. Even if it was dark,” the officer told her. “There’s enough crew around that it would’ve been reported. And I can assure you that no one has fallen overboard. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She stood there, fighting the urge to cry and trying to determine her next move. He wasn’t anywhere in second class. She knew it as she had checked every area twice. And, if he hadn’t gone overboard, he could only be in one of the other classes. Maybe lost? She had heard the ship was a maze below decks but she was sure she could find him. She had to find him. When the officer finally turned his head to address another passenger, she slipped forward. One quick step, then another, and she was through the gate and past the first class entrance before anyone had a chance to react.
She paused for a moment, just inside, overwhelmed and mesmerized by all of the polished oak paneling and the large glass dome overhead. But then she shook her head. She didn’t have time to be awestruck. She had someone to find.
Sarah crossed the landing and went down the stairs, gripping the railing tightly as she went, her heels clicking loudly against the tile steps. She turned into the first hallway she spotted and kept her pace quick, a tight, nervous breath catching in her chest at the thought of being stopped and marched back to second class. The doors she passed were all firmly shut, the alcoves empty, but she kept moving. The ship around her felt impossibly quiet.
She rounded a corner and nearly slammed into a man coming from the opposite direction. Staggering back a step, her hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
The man steadied himself and looked at her closely. “It’s...it’s fine,” he said. “Are you alright?”
“Fine. I’m fine.” She nodded too quickly. “I’m just…” The words seemed to catch in her throat and she took a deep breath. “I just can’t seem to find my husband.”
His brows lifted. “Your husband?”
“I woke up and he was gone.” She didn’t know why she was telling this strange man her problem, but there was something in his presence that felt comfortable, almost familiar, and the words just slipped out. “I’ve spoken to two stewards and an officer. They told me it’s a large ship and he’s probably wandering around. But I know he’s not because he wouldn’t. Not without telling me.” She blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes.
The man was quiet for a moment. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” he said gently.
“He’s not.” The words snapped sharper than she intended, but she couldn’t take them back. “And not a single person cares.”
Something thoughtful crossed the man’s face. “I could help you search,” he said softly. “If you wouldn’t mind the help, I mean. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
Sarah stared at him, surprised by the offer. The man was dressed so nicely; he must be on his way to breakfast or maybe he had just finished it—she didn’t know when the first class ate their meals. “You should know I’m only second class...I shouldn’t even be here. It’s just, I’ve already searched my own area and he wasn’t there so…” Her voice trailed off.
“I see,” he replied. “Well, that only leaves first and third. That should save us a bit of searching.” He smiled warmly. “We’ll find him. It is only a ship, after all. There’s only so many places he could be. Come on.” He motioned for her to walk with him.
Sarah only hesitated for a second before falling in beside him. She glanced at him, studying his face. She thought there might’ve been something familiar about him but perhaps that was only the relief she felt in no longer being alone. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I mean it.”
“Of course,” he replied gently. “It’s the least I could do.”
~~~
Right after breakfast, Kate went straight back to her cabin and tore through her belongings. She emptied her bag piece by piece, setting each item on the blanket in neat rows. More letters had been tucked into the folds of her skirts and blouses. Letters from Sarah. Lelia. Bridget. Henry. Even Tommy. Every letter written in a different handwriting. Every letter addressed to her. Impossible letters that spoke of children and grandchildren. War and things she didn’t understand. All of them detailed lives that didn’t exist. That couldn’t exist.
The letters unsettled her, but what angered her was that they contained just enough personal details that they must have been written by someone who knew her well. Someone she trusted. It must have been Pat.
Her brother could act without thinking and treated things lightly when he shouldn’t, but he had never before been cruel. That wasn’t in his nature. Still, maybe he saw the letters as nothing more than a harmless bit of fun. Maybe he didn’t expect her to feel so unsettled and upset over them. Maybe he hadn’t meant for her to find them until they reached land.
Whatever his reasons for writing them may have been, she needed to talk to him. She needed to hear his explanation.
Kate searched every corner of third class but Pat was nowhere to be seen. When she stepped onto the well deck and found it also empty of him, she dropped onto a bench with an irritated huff. He must have slipped into another part of the ship, just as she had warned him not to do. She had told him he’d get caught, that he’d land himself in trouble. Of course he had still done what he wanted without a single thought to the consequences.
Tommy joined her a moment later. “Ye look troubled,” he said, sitting beside her.
“I am troubled,” she snapped. “Have ye seen me brother anywhere? I have a few things to be sayin’ to him.”
“I haven’t seen him,” he replied. “So what’s he done this time?”
She opened her mouth but no words came out. Her throat tightened and she buried her fingers in the fabric of her skirt. “He…” She paused, searching for the right way to explain what still made her stomach twist. “He’s been writin’ letters and stickin’ them in me bag.”
“So?”
“They’re letters addressed to me from people I don’t know,” she said, voice rising. She clasped her hands together in her lap to keep from shaking. “Talkin’ about…about things that aren’t anything.”
Tommy frowned. “I see.”
“It makes no sense and I don’t know why’d he’d be doin’ it. I mean, what’s the joke in writin’ me pretend love letters? It’s just cruel.”
“And ye believe Pat’s behind them?” Tommy asked gently. “Why’d he do that?”
Kate stood abruptly as if staying seated another second might suffocate her. “I don’t know why he’d do it. That’s why I’m lookin’ for him.” She paced a short line in front of the bench, skirts brushing her legs as she walked. “And when I find him, I’m goin’ to be tossin’ him overboard. It’ll be what he deserves.”
“Kate.” His tone softened. “Why don’t ye sit back down?”
“I’m too angry to be sittin’ down.”
“Pat isn’t the sort to be doin’ something like that and ye know it.”
She stopped mid-step and faced him. “It has to be Pat writin’ them because...because there’s no other explanation for them existin’. There’s details in them that are personal.” She swallowed hard. “Tommy, I don’t know who any of these people are and I don’t know why they’d be in me bag, ye know? I feel like I must be losin’ me mind.”
“Yer not losin’ yer mind, Kate.”
“No? Then what’s yer explanation then?”
A soft smile crossed Tommy’s face as he patted the empty spot on the bench beside him. “Why don’t ye sit down,” he said quietly, “and I’ll explain everything.”
~~~
Pat could feel the panic starting to grow as he wandered down the corridor, the seemingly endless corridor adorned on either side with identical-looking doors. Locked, identical-looking doors. He tried each and every one of them as he walked, hoping one would lead to a staircase pointing down, back to his own familiar area and people he knew. But they were locked and he was thoroughly lost. Why hadn’t he listened to Kate? She had warned him time and time again to stay in their own area, that he would certainly get in trouble. But he had wanted to explore. He had wanted to see what else there was. He just hadn’t expected the suffocating feeling of being trapped to accompany the ‘adventure.’
At last, he spotted a small, narrow staircase leading down into darkness. Knowing third class was somewhere below him, he only hesitated a moment before heading down. His shoes struck the metal treads with sharp echoes and a faint scent of disinfectant drifted up to meet him.
At the bottom he found a small room lined with metal-framed beds, each pushed neatly against white-painted walls. The red tile under his feet looked recently scrubbed and a low electrical hum vibrated somewhere overhead. It felt unmistakably like a hospital. He frowned at the thought. Did ships even have hospitals? He supposed they must. No one could expect an entire crossing to pass without someone falling ill.
He moved farther into the ward, taking in the tiny sink wedged into one corner and the metal cabinet standing shut beside it. At the back, a narrow door sat slightly ajar, a thin slice of grayness showing through. A small sign above it read, ‘Padded Room.‘
Curious, Pat pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. The door clicked softly behind him, an afterthought until he realized it was now fully shut. The room was tiny, almost suffocating, dimly lit by a single dangling bulb that barely pierced the shadows in the corners. Gray canvas cushions covered the walls, floor to ceiling, absorbing sound and light alike. The air felt heavy, stagnant, as though it had been sealed for weeks. He couldn’t imagine anyone being locked in such a space, curled up in the dark with nothing but their own breath to measure the time. A chill ran down his spine and he immediately turned to leave.
But the door was shut. He pressed harder, first with his palms, then leaning his shoulder into it. Nothing. Heart hammering, he let out a sharp, frustrated call. “Hello?” His voice sounded small, swallowed as it was by the padded walls. He slammed his fist against the door once more. “Is anyone there?”
Nothing. Only silence, thick and pressing.
~~~
Cal didn’t know why he had offered to help her. He hardly considered himself the sort to go out of his way for strangers; it just wasn’t done. His father would likely have had a few choice words about it. But then when he saw how the panic in her eyes seemed to lessen at his offer, how the tension left her shoulders, it simply felt right and he was glad of his decision. He knew it was the right one.
They searched methodically, moving deck by deck and starting at the top. It took too long to get through the first class areas as, every so often, Sarah stopped to admire some elaborately carved staircase or gasp at a glittering chandelier. And, every time that happened, Cal could feel a heat of embarrassment start to creep up his neck. His class suddenly seemed ostentatious, gaudy and he could only imagine the sort of scene Rose would cause if she were to suddenly show up. Would it be comments on the differences in class? Or simply a patronizing tone? Maybe she’d accuse him of having an affair. That could be a way out of the engagement, although the consequences and ensuing scandal might not be worth it.
He pushed those thoughts aside as they finally moved onto the second class. Here there was almost no possibility of running into her or anyone else he might know.
“I’ve already checked all of this,” Sarah said as they peeked into her cabin. “See? Not here.”
Cal was taken aback by the size of the room. “Honestly, I’m amazed you managed to lose him at all in such a small place. You really sleep here?”
She frowned. “I thought it was lovely and there’s plenty of room. We’re only two people, after all.” She sighed as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Were two people. I wish I knew what had happened to him.”
“Sarah,” he began as a sudden thought came to him. “Excuse me for asking something obvious, but have you checked the hospital? He may have fallen ill, which seems much more likely to me than him falling overboard or simply vanishing in the night.”
She shrugged. “I haven’t checked personally but I asked someone in a uniform…one of the officers, I think…and was told that there’s been no reports of anyone falling ill.”
“Why don’t we go take a look regardless?” Cal suggested. “That officer might’ve been misinformed.”
“Couldn’t hurt, I suppose,” she replied in a voice lacking conviction.
The hospital was empty and eerily silent when they reached it. It shouldn’t have been. Cal frowned as he looked around the room, taking in the neatly-made metal framed beds pushed against the walls. “That’s strange,” he murmured, half to himself. Then, louder, “Dr. O’Loughlin?” He didn’t know much about hospitals, even less about hospitals on ships, but he felt like there should’ve been someone there. If not the doctor, then perhaps an assistant or a steward.
In the silence that answered him, Sarah drifted closer to his side until her sleeve brushed against his. “No one’s here,” she said quietly. “And no John.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” he replied. “So, where shall we check next?” He didn’t want to say it aloud but he was starting to think that the poor man had, in fact, gone overboard. How else could he have vanished so thoroughly?
She didn’t respond right away and Cal turned to see her staring at a door on the far side of the room. “Sarah?”
“They have a padded room here?” She asked, moving closer to it.
“I imagine there’s a jail somewhere around here too,” he said, somewhat uncomfortably. It hardly felt like a topic for a lady. “It’s smart to keep the ship prepared for any eventuality.”
“Except missing husbands, apparently.” She tugged the door open. “I just don’t understand how—“ She let out a yelp and jumped back as a young man stumbled out, his dark hair tousled and his face flushed.
“Thank God, ye could hear me callin’ out,” he stammered. “The door shut on me and I couldn’t open it from the inside.” His hands shook slightly as he ran one over his face.
Cal looked him over then glanced at Sarah. “Is this—?”
She let out a tired breath. “Not John.”
“I thought I was trapped,” the young man continued, oblivious to their quiet conversation or her disappointment. “Thought I’d be—“ He broke off, swallowing hard. “I didn’t think anyone would find me. Of course, me sister would only say it served me right for wanderin’ out of me area. What are the two of ye doin’ down here?”
Cal turned to him. “I’m afraid the bigger question is what are you doing here?” he asked. “If you’re meant to be in that room, for whatever reason, then I’m going to need you to go back in. I won’t be the one inadvertently letting a lunatic loose on the ship.”
The young man bristled. “I’m not meant to be in it,” he snapped. “I am not a lunatic. I was lost and was tryin’ to find me way back to third class. The door shut on me and there’s no way to open it from the inside. And if ye don’t believe me, go try it for yerself. Just be careful ye don’t break anything, old man.”
“Old man?” Cal gave him a confused look. “I’m not old…”
“And I’m not a lunatic,” the young man shot back. “Now, if ye’ll be excusin’ me, I’m sure someone’s lookin’ for me so I best be gettin’ back to me area.” With that, he pushed past and disappeared up the stairs.
Sarah sighed heavily as she sat on one of the empty beds. Her fingers curled around the edge of the blanket as though she needed the support. “That was…”
“Odd?”
“Odd,” she agreed. “But he’s not John and we’re looking for John.”
“Right. I suppose we could check the jail next, just to be safe.” He glanced back toward the padded room. “But are you sure he’s not—“
Sarah let out a sharp huff of air as she pushed herself back to her feet. “I think I would know my own husband,” she said. “And I can promise you, I’ve never seen that man before in my life.”
“Well, you would know,” Cal said as he led the way up the stairs.
“I would know,” she agreed. “I do know.”
~~~
“Yer mad,” Kate said. “Yer absolutely mad. Is this one of Pat’s jokes? Are ye in it together? Where even is he?” Craning her neck, she looked around the deck, half-expecting to see her brother hiding just out of sight, having a good laugh at her expense. But there was no Pat and there was no anyone at all. They were strangely alone on the deck.
“Kate.” Tommy gently touched her arm to get her attention.
“It just makes no sense.” She let out a short laugh. “It’s ridiculous. Ye might as well tell me ye know how to fly or the sky’s green. Tommy Ryan, I hate to be the one to tell ye this, but ye can’t fly and the sky’s blue. It’s simple fact.”
“How long have ye been on this ship?” he asked calmly.
She thought about it, tried to count the days, but they all seemed to blend together in her memory. “Not all that long,” she said at last.
“And what did ye have to eat for dinner last night?”
“Chicken casserole and raisin pie, I believe.”
“And the night before that?”
Again, her memory seemed to blend together a hundred different meals: casseroles and stews, pies and cakes, but she couldn’t grasp on a single definite one. “Meatloaf?” she offered. Then she shook her head. “All that means is that me memory’s goin’,” she said. “And maybe I’m losin’ me mind. It doesn’t mean that I’m…I’m not…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. She couldn’t say that one terrifying, unpleasant, final word.
“Kate, ye are,” Tommy said simply, assuredly.
Standing up, she turned to face him. “Ye know what? I think yer the one who’s lost yer mind, not me.” She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe it’s best we don’t be speakin’ anymore. At least not until ye find yer way back to reality but I’m not goin’ to be made a joke of like this. And if Pat’s behind this in any way, go ahead and toss him overboard for me because this is just…it’s cruel. That’s what it is.”
Still as calm as ever, Tommy looked at her. “Kate, I think ye’ll understand when ye find—“
“Just leave me alone,” she demanded, cutting him off. “This isn’t funny. I don’t have to be listenin’ to ye. And I’m not dead!”
She stormed off as quickly as she could, afraid to look back, afraid to hear what else he might have to say. She knew he was wrong. Aside from the absolute absurdity of his statement, she could feel her own heartbeat just as she could feel the breeze on her face or the deck beneath her feet. Sure, she couldn’t recall exactly how long they had been at sea or if they had meatloaf or a chicken pie two nights ago. But they were at sea. Time moved differently at sea. That was it. That was all.
“I’m not dead!” she said aloud, to no one in particular. “I’m not…I can’t…I can’t be.”
It just wasn’t possible.