Chapter Text
As soon as Josephine stepped back onto Titanic’s boat deck following her risky, death-defying jump from the lifeboat, she knew she had made a grave mistake.
“Harry!”
Her tunnel vision led her to where they had last bid each other goodbye- only a cluster of first-class men, smoking cigars and talking solemnly amongst themselves, stood in the empty swathe of deck where the lifeboats once hung. The sight was frightening- only a vast, desolate void lay visible beyond the men, and as she looked forward and aft, she could see that virtually all of the boats were long gone.
“Damn it,” she lamented. Her body shook from both the freezing air and fear, however much she tried to fight the latter. She couldn’t explain it; it was as if something more powerful than herself had taken over, paring her down from a stoic, capable young woman into a blubbering damsel in distress.
But it wasn’t only her helpless emotions being pulled like the strings of a marionette- the urge to reboard the shuddering, sinking ship had not been of her own making, either. The decision to flee safety and return to danger was, without a doubt, one of the stupidest decisions she had ever felt compelled to make, and yet in that moment, she seemed powerless to fight against it. The pull of that ghostly inner voice had proved too strong, and so she had given up her seat in a lifeboat to be with her beloved, only to find that he was nowhere to be found.
Come back.
Come back, she did, and it was all for naught.
It was getting much too hard to stand upright now, the tilt of the massive vessel horrifically steep as it dipped sharply beneath the surface of the Atlantic. An eerie glow emanated up from the water, owing to the lights still burning in the abandoned cabins of passengers that were now completely submerged, and although she couldn’t see it from her vantage point, the forward well deck was now beginning to go under, with a great foaming wall of seawater rushing into the space where she and Harry had not long ago indulged in their afternoon rendezvous among the windlass machinery.
A deckhand clad only in his work trousers and a thin buttoned-up shirt dashed by, and Josephine took the opportunity to grab his arm. “Excuse me!”
The stout, mustachioed young man rolled his eyes in frustration, but he stopped, nonetheless. “Can I help you, miss? The boats are nearly gone now, just so you are aware.”
“I’m quite aware, but I have a more urgent matter to attend to. Have you seen Fifth Officer Lowe anywhere in this vicinity- say, in the last twenty minutes or so? Last I saw him was around boat no. 16, but I lost sight of him shortly thereafter. It’s urgent that I speak to him!”
He narrowed his eyes at the pitiful young woman; no doubt confused as to why one so finely dressed would have anything to discuss with a sailor. “Sorry miss, but I haven’t seen him. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure I know what the bloke looks like. Perhaps one of the other officers still onboard can help you.”
He moved to continue on his way, but Josephine held fast to his sleeve. “Please! I’m sure you’ve seen him before. He’s of moderate height with dark, wavy hair, brown eyes, and a little bit of an accent- “
“I must go, miss, and so should you! Titanic will be at the bottom of the sea in thirty minutes or less, mark my words.” He shook off her grasp, perhaps more forcefully than he had meant to do, and scurried aft towards the stern and the crowds of passengers that had begun to accumulate there.
“It’ll only take a minute,” she whispered out loud, but to no avail. The man had already disappeared into a sea of black, brown, and navy-blue person-shaped figures, and even if he did hear her, he had made it clear he had no intentions of helping her look for Harry.
“You bastard.”
Her cheeks had become chapped from the cold and her salty tears, yet she scarcely felt the burn. Rubbing her hands over her arms, she continued to pace up and down the deck, her eyes flitting back and forth constantly in an effort to find the fifth officer when she suddenly spotted a most welcome sight.
The Widener men stood a short distance away from the first-class entrance to the forward grand staircase, just below the glowing yellow sign that had begun to flicker ominously every few minutes. Both father and son were swaddled in heavy wool coats, complete with scarves and gloves, with Harry Widener holding a snifter in one hand and a cigar in the other.
Harry’s eyes brightened a bit when he noticed Josephine coming towards them. “Criminy, I thought I’d never see you again! Why haven’t you left yet?”
Tossing all propriety aside, Harry thrust the mostly empty snifter of brandy into George Widener’s hand and enveloped Josephine in a hug so tight she thought her ribs would crack. “Oh Harry, I wish I could tell you!” she cried out, nestling her face into the soft grey wool of his scarf. “I wanted to- I almost did- but I couldn’t! I just couldn’t. I want to tell you everything so badly, but I’m afraid you’ll think less of me.”
“Not a chance,” he replied, giving her another tight squeeze before loosening his grip. His eyes were tired and red-rimmed even though there was no evidence of fallen tears, and his skin looked frightfully pale. “After what old Freddy did, I’d think it’d be almost impossible for you to best him. You could rob a bank, guns blazing, and it’d still be peanuts compared to his nasty antics.”
“Ahem,” the elder Widener coughed, motioning for Harry to let go of her. “Even though we’re in an emergency, Harold, it’s no excuse for indecent behavior. The poor girl’s been through enough; we don’t need even more talk going around, especially concerning you.”
The younger Widener let go, and the two stepped back from each other, though Josephine immediately missed the warmth of his embrace. “It’s alright, Mr. Widener, I couldn’t care less at this point. Not when so many people are going to…” she stopped herself before saying die, realizing with a horrific clarity that Harry and his father were likely to be two of those ‘many people.’ “Never mind that- I know, Harry, that I’m not as terrible as Fred, but even so, there are things that would be best left secret- for now, anyway.”
“If you insist- I take it your maid and Aunt Jane have already left on a boat?” He took a half-hearted puff from the cigar in his left hand. “I do hope so. We just saw mother off not too long ago. Kicking and screaming, as you’d probably expect, but we managed a good enough lie in the end. She kept begging me to get on with her, to tell the bos’n that I had a health condition, or that she did…”
“But he wouldn’t budge- not that I expected him to. It’s only the right thing to do, with so many women and young ones on this ship. I wouldn’t expect Captain Smith to say any different.” Mr. Widener gave Josephine a weak smile, his eyes damp.
“That’s what I keep hearing- women and children first,” she sighed. “Of course, I saw to it that Auntie Jane made it to safety, and I was informed by a crewmember that Eleanor had boarded a boat as well, thank God. But I can’t help but think how unfair it all is. So many families separated, their livelihoods destroyed! Especially the steerage families- what are the wives going to do if they lose their husbands? I could only imagine if I were in their shoes with a gaggle of children to clothe and feed. Work as a laundress? Thread spools in one of those awful factories? I shudder to think of the other option!”
“That’s none of your concern, my dear,” Mr. Widener replied, taking a sip of his son’s brandy. “Those dear ladies will persevere, no doubt, and their fate will only distract you from your immediate concern at the moment, which is to get safely onto a lifeboat!”
“And I will, but I told Auntie Jane I’d run back to the cabin to retrieve a necklace she left behind,” Josephine lied, marveling to herself at how comfortable she had become with sneaking around and making up stories on a whim. “It was my great grandmother’s, you see.”
“No jewelry is worth your life, Josephine,” Harry told her, his grey eyes wide and insistent. “Doesn’t matter if it belonged to the pope- let it rot.” He flicked a bit of ash from the end of the cigar and leaned in close to her ear. “Don’t tell me you already forgot our little conversation outside your cabin- about the cherub, about the quiet voices?”
Josephine let out a dry, humorless laugh. “How could I forget? I’m reminded of them every time I close my eyes and with every inch that the floors tilt, further and further…oh Harry, please tell me you and your father will try to get on one of the collapsibles? I know that younger officer, Mr. Moody, is very kind. I’m sure he’d make an exception for the both of you if I asked him to!”
Mr. Widener looked upon her sadly. “I admire your spirit, Miss Lawrence, but that’s absolutely out of the question. We are gentlemen, and we’re going to continue to act like gentlemen until all of the ladies and their children have been transferred to safety.”
“I’m a strong swimmer,” Harry told her, full of false optimism. “There was a galley worker- probably one of the bakers- throwing deck chairs overboard not too long ago. It’d be easy as pie to swim up and grab one of those!”
“The water is freezing,” Josephine countered, swallowing back dread. “Please tell me you’re not stupid enough to think you’d be able to survive it! I’m serious, Harry, Mr. Widener- if you’d just let me ask Officer Moody, I’m sure it would be no problem to let you both on.”
“Now is not the time to panic,” Mr. Widener said, his wavering tone suggesting otherwise. He gently placed a hand on her arm. “Everything is going to be fine, as long as you take the next boat. Mrs. Widener, Harold, and I have become terribly fond of you in the short time we’ve been acquainted, and it would give us a great peace of mind to know that you’re safe.”
“Yes, I know, but…” Her lip trembled, and she fought back the urge to tell them the real reason she was reluctant to leave. Her heart wept for the Wideners, for the unexpected friend she had gained in Fred’s old college companion that she was now sure to lose.
Not to mention the man that she could now say with confidence was her first true love. She turned to look outward into the dark seascape, searching for a glimmer of one of the lifeboats. There was a faint, flickering glow that looked to be about a quarter of a mile northeast of the ship’s starboard railing. It hovered at the surface of the mirror-like water, its lurching movement just barely perceptible to the naked eye.
Was it possible that Harry had managed to secure a position at the helm of one of the boats? She squinted hard to see, but it was impossible to see any detail- and what would it matter, anyway? Even if he was out there, she was here, and time was running out for those still clinging to the floundering vessel.
Reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the light, she looked to the younger Widener to plead her case one final time, only for her heart to stop when she noticed movement just beyond the entrance to the gymnasium.
As plain as day, the fifth officer stood looking back at her, an overjoyed grin taking over his handsome face as he stood in a beam of light coming from one of the gymnasium’s windows. He held a length of rope in one hand and a lifebelt in the other, the ties dangling against the deck planks.
“Harr- I’ll be back in a moment,” Josephine murmured quietly to the Wideners, her chest bursting with relief. He was still here, thank God!
“Josephine, I told you! That necklace isn’t worth dying for,” Harry protested, reaching out to grab her arm, but she was too nimble, and he grasped only air as she darted out of reach and hurriedly made the short walk towards the gymnasium. “Don’t make me run after you…”
His voice faded as a startling mass of humanity suddenly erupted through the doors of the first-class entrance, blocking his and his father’s view of her. Nearly fifty- or was it seventy? - steerage passengers, a heartbreaking amalgam of families and solo travelers, rushed out onto the boat deck, their expressions frantic and bewildered as they clung to one another and surveyed their unfamiliar surroundings.
A last mad dash to safety, it was, after being lost and unable to find their way in the labyrinth of corridors in third class, but it would be too late for all but a few of them. There rose a cacophony of foreign tongues as parents clung tightly to their smaller children, wildly gesticulating in a manner that was all too easy to understand.
Josephine paid no attention to any of it, of course, as the only thing in her line of sight was her beloved. So focused she was, she didn’t flinch when a rather stout woman with three young boys in tow bumped into her. “Harry! I couldn’t go!”
The fifth officer smiled wider, but didn’t respond. Instead, he gave a slight tilt of the head, his posture indicating that he wanted her to follow him.
“Wait- “
He set the rope and the lifebelt down onto the deck next to the gymnasium’s doorway and paused for a moment to look over his shoulder at her, then disappeared inside.
Perhaps he had been ordered to round up more female passengers? She had seen quite a number of passengers waiting around for instructions amongst the exercise equipment earlier in the night, when the threat of the ship sinking seemed merely a morbid joke. A woman wearing a white sequined evening gown with a lush ermine stole draped over her shoulders had been sitting side-saddle on the electric camel, while a trio of men joked and took turns on the rowing machine.
“I don’t need one of those blasted things,” one of the men had boasted, referring to the lifebelts. Short and athletically compact with a thick, bushy mustache, Josephine had recognized him as the gymnasium’s instructor, Mr. McCawley. He pantomimed swimming, which drew a chorus of chuckles from the other men. “It’ll only impede my stroke!”
Her guess proved to be wrong, however, when she crossed the threshold of the gym and was startled to find the room completely empty. “Harry? Where- where’d you go?” she asked, confused as to his absence. She looked around, her eyes roving anxiously over each individual piece of athletic machinery as if he might be hiding behind one of them, until she realized how ridiculous that was.
Her heart panged- why had he wanted her to follow if he was only going to run off? To have a short, hopeful glimpse of him, only to have it wrenched away seconds later. She moved to the door marked ‘exit’ on the opposite side of the room that led out into the first-class companionway, her half-unbuttoned coat flapping wildly around her.
She stopped at the railing of the grand staircase and scanned her surroundings, noting how deserted the once-bustling area now seemed, save for a random panicked passenger or steward darting here or there. The elevators sat frozen in their shafts; their doors left half-opened, the cages long abandoned by their attendants.
“Harry?!”
There was no response. Ignoring the treacherous tilt of the floor, she hurried down the short set of stairs that led to the landing where Honor and Glory displayed the current time- 1:45 AM. Nearly two o’clock in the morning, though to Josephine, it was the middle of the night. A long, dark, cold night…
Her mouth felt dry, and she realized she had been panting nervously with her mouth open. She shut her mouth and swallowed painfully, her heart thudding and her knees trembling as she forced herself to descend the staircase to A-Deck, passing the diabolical cherub with its torch still blazing.
“Harry, this is ridiculous! Where are you?”
As her foot left the last step, her eyes couldn’t help but drift over to the statue, and she shrank back in horror as the malevolent sprite’s eyes locked onto hers. Like a great white shark just before it takes a bite of its prey, its eyes rolled back and shifted from their usual bronze to a cold, abyssal black.
Hurry up and find your lover, Miss Lawrence! Titanic has not long to live, and nor do you! Tick tock, tick tock…
Metallic and raspy, the entity’s voice rose in pitch, inducing a horrid pain behind her eyes that throbbed in time with her pulse. “Stop it!” She pressed her hands to her head and let out an audible groan as the cherub continued its mocking harangue.
Come to think of it, both of you are going to die! Hee-hee, you stupid fools! Too bad that beast of a woman you call your aunt made it to safety- this ship would go down much quicker with her lardy duff on deck!
Rubbing her eyes for a moment, she forced herself to ignore the nasty little voice while scanning the area for any hint of Harry’s navy wool sweater and cap. There was movement near the elevators- could it be?
No, just a poor soul who had waited much too long below decks. His faded flat cap and worn tweed marked him as third class, and he carried a haphazardly packed suitcase with a pair of shirt sleeves hanging out the top. He nearly tripped and fell as he rounded the corner of the elevator shaft, and his startled grey eyes met hers as he just barely regained his footing.
“Can ye tell me, miss- where to the boats? I’m lucky I made it all this way to first class, but some of me brothers are still below, not wantin’ to budge a lick unless they can bring all their stuff…”
Josephine barely heard him, her head snapping quickly over her shoulder when she spotted a quick glimpse of navy blue and a head of dark brown curls heading down towards B Deck.
“Harry?!”
“Miss, am I near to the boat deck? Please, if ye have any idea whatsoever- “
“Yes, just right up these stairs!” she shouted to the doomed Irishman as she dashed back towards the staircase and made for B Deck. “Good luck to you!”
She didn’t wait for the man to reply. Taking the steps two at a time, she hurtled down the staircase with nothing else in mind except the fifth officer. Something was definitely pulling her now, something far bigger and more duplicitous than she could have imagined. For it wasn’t only the cherub prodding her into this wild goose chase; but the entirety of the quiet voices- all of them.
They were everywhere on the ship- in the gilded balustrades, in the finely molded chandeliers and wall sconces, in the colorful, molten glass that decorated the smoking lounge, in the fibers of the lush Turkish rugs and tapestries, in the crystalline glass of her vanity mirror…but most of all, they were embedded deeply in the ship’s steel bones, where they would reside for as long as the metal remained whole and rigid before crumbling to dust and joining the rest of them in the muck and sludge of the abyss.
Bodies, bodies raining down all around…drifting like marionettes into the void below- the abyssal plain.
She bounded off the stairs and onto the B Deck landing, her heeled shoes clattering loudly on the star-shaped tiles. She looked right, then left- again, it seemed she had lost sight of Harry.
“Damn it, Harry, where did you go? Why won’t you wait for me?!” Her voice sounded small in the empty space, the only other sounds being the crackling of a lightbulb on a nearby wall sconce and the faint sound of moving water as it made its slow climb up to first class.
Don’t panic, don’t panic, she told herself while taking several deep breaths to steady herself. You’ll find him- if you don’t panic, you’ll find him. From her vantage point in the B-Deck companionway she could see a young stewardess clad in a lifebelt, still running from door to door down the aft starboard corridor urging any guests who were still asleep to get up and put on their lifebelts.
“Hello- is anyone there? It’s urgent. Please put on your lifebelts and report to the boat deck immediately! Please hurry!” The young blond woman looked scarcely older than she or Eleanor, yet her face betrayed no fear or panic, only a stoic emptiness that meant she was in either shock or denial.
Josephine surmised it was probably both. She watched the young woman and her immaculately pressed skirt and maid’s cap slowly disappear further down the corridor, then moved to look down the other three empty passages. All four contained passenger cabins- hers and Auntie Jane’s included- and she wondered what business Harry would have down here as a crew member. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wonder much longer.
“Joss!”
His familiar Welsh brogue was music to her ears, and it only took a second for her to spot him moving down the staircase to C Deck. With a quick smile, his brown eyes crinkling up at the corners, he gestured with a small wave, then disappeared onto the C Deck landing. “To the officers mess- come on!”
“The officers mess? But why?” she called down to him, but he was already moving on. An odd feeling struck her just then- wouldn’t the officers mess be up on the boat deck near Harry’s sleeping quarters? For it to be so out of the way, further below decks, seemed quite anachronistic.
And wouldn’t he have pointed it out to her earlier in the evening while they laughed and caroused the lower decks on their way to the Turkish baths?
A niggling doubt began to form at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t bear to turn away, not now after she had risked her life jumping back onto the sinking ship- and she had found him, hadn’t she? Perhaps he just needed to pick up something from one of the crew areas further down, and then they’d be back on their merry way into a lifeboat- this time, together.
Sighing, she bounded after him, noting how the distant sound of moving water had grown noticeably louder. She was scared, alright, but she pushed on, tightly holding onto the banister as she descended.
“Joss, down here!”
Harry had rounded the landing once again, continuing his descent on to D Deck. She could hear him whistling as he went, the sound peculiarly cheerful in the midst of such horror.
“Alright,” she replied, anything but sure as she attempted to train her eyes on his navy-blue form. Beneath her feet, the ship groaned again, the sound much louder and more tremulous than it had been at any time before. It sounded like an enormous steel bulkhead, several stories tall, was being bent and contorted into a shape it was never intended to take on, and little did she know, she would have been correct.
She was just a few steps away from the D Deck landing when she suddenly stopped, her body frozen in place at the scene before her. The entire first-class reception area and the dining saloon were under over a foot of water. Brilliant blue and gold china floated above the ornate carpet like a whimsical flotilla, the frigid green water jostling the saucers, bowls, and teacups against each other. The collisions emitted a musical tinkling sound that was eerily beautiful, though to her, the beauty made their potential fate all the more horrifying.
“Harry, this is bad- we need to leave now! This is all going to be underwater in minutes…” Her voice trailed off as she looked frantically around the reception room, watching as a white tablecloth silently slipped off one of the tables and drifted away like a ghost. “Where are you?!”
Never mind the tablecloth- Josephine felt like she was speaking to a ghost rather than Harry himself. Something was definitely askew with the fifth officer, and yet she was rendered immobile by an emotional tug-of-war. I love him; I can’t leave without him, not when I’ve found him again…
She didn’t have a choice- she’d have to get her skirts wet. At least they were inside the ship where it was still warm. How bad could it be? Taking a deep breath, she slowly lowered one foot onto the bottom step, then the other.
“Oh my God!”
The sensation was unlike any other she had felt up until that moment. Even with her wool stockings and calfskin boots, the bitter cold pierced her flesh like a million jagged shards of glass. She gasped at the intense pain, her mind rendered blank as it was all she could focus on for those first few terrible seconds.
How on earth was she supposed to wade through this? And all the way to E Deck? F Deck? Judging by the looks of things, E Deck and those past it were most certainly completely underwater by now. It would be certain death for the both of them if they proceeded any further- even spending more than a few minutes in the rising seawater would likely end in them succumbing to the icy waters.
But where in God’s name was he now?
Biting her lip, she forced herself to step all the way off the staircase and onto the landing, the water sloshing at her knees sending a deep, agonizing ache all the way up her body. Her feet felt heavy and leaden, and she had to force herself to move, if only to maintain her body warmth. Cups, saucers, and even the odd saltshaker bumped against her legs as she waded through the reception room, every touch sending a jolt of pain to her nerves.
“Harry, this is ridiculous! We need to go NOW!”
There was no reply other than the flickering of the candelabra at the end of the stairs as the water began to compromise the electrical wiring- that, and the dainty chimes of floating dinnerware.
Damn it, damn it, damn it, she cursed herself over and over again. We’ve really done it now- we’re done for. Her eyes grew hot with tears, and she wiped angrily at them as she moved further away from the staircase and towards the crooked, swinging doors of the dining saloon. Looking through the doors and windows, she could see that the water was much deeper there, owing to the saloon’s forward location relative to the reception room. Entire chairs had begun to float from their places while tangled up in great masses of linen and an even greater amount of china.
“Harry!”
Each inch the water rose brought a fresh round of stinging pins and needles to her flesh. It seemed that this particular brand of cold could penetrate everything- wool, cotton, silk, etc. No matter that she was wearing four layers of clothing- she may as well have been stark naked for how bitterly she shook.
There was a sound that caught her attention from deep within the dining saloon. It sounded like a gasp, or a cough.
“Harry?! Are you trying to kill us both? We have to leave!”
He didn’t reply, which rattled her further. By now, only five minutes after wading into the seawater, the pain in her toes and feet was receding, where it was slowly becoming replaced by a complete absence of feeling. Total numbness. This made it all the more difficult to move through the water, and she toddled about like a clunky wind-up toy.
Another flash of movement caught her eye, this time behind one of the tall white Jacobean columns that stood near the center of the saloon. The lower half of her sodden skirts and coat weighed her down as if trying to pull her into the briny tarn, yet she managed to stagger slowly over to the column using nearby tabletops for leverage.
“Harry,” she gasped, out of breath from her exertions, “I don’t understand, why are we- “
She was unable to finish the question, however, as a clammy, wet hand immediately clapped itself over her mouth, and she was hence driven headfirst into the solid oak pilaster.
A crescendo of blinding hurt enveloped her body, causing her to temporarily lose her vision. Violent flashes of white and red were all she could see front of her, the floor and the water and ship itself groaning and spinning as she fell backwards into the water with her mouth still forming the word “here?”
Now she was completely submerged, the temperature taking her breath away as she flailed in confusion. “W-where…help me…what’s going on? Harry!” she managed to choke out, blindly grabbing for a chair leg, a table’s edge- anything to pull herself out of the water as a tall, dark shadow hovered over her, chuckling demonically. The laughter was unlike anything she had ever heard from the fifth officer, and she struggled with all her might to focus her blurred vision towards the sound.
Oh God, please tell me this isn’t another vision, oh God no, please no, my heart can’t take it…
But there were no dripping rusticles or grotesquely formed humanoid visions to be seen- only a hulking male body with frozen blonde hair, flesh imbued with the pallor of death, and a pair of formerly grey eyes that were now so black they seemed to absorb all the surrounding light that was left in the rapidly flooding saloon.
Sputtering and coughing, Josephine managed to grab hold of a dining chair that floated past. She pulled herself up, her arms frozen and trembling as her eyesight slowly returned and the figure standing over her began to materialize. The backlit light coming through the saloon windows almost made it seem like a sunny afternoon rather than the dead of night, and it only served to emphasize the figure’s menacing silhouette.
“Hello, Joss,” the blonde, ice-covered fiend sneered, its voice all too familiar now that she had begun to regain her wits. “Who’s Harry? It wouldn’t be a certain Harold Godfrey Lowe, would it? Because there’s no Harry here- only me.”
Josephine opened her salt-burned eyes wider until his face came into focus, and when it did, she let out a bloodcurdling scream at the realization that it wasn’t a ghost or the sea that was going to claim her life, it was Frederick Farring- and he had come to finish the task.