Casey stopped talking altogether and Tom moved to her side, taking her hand, horrified at the scenario she described. “Stop. Casey, stop. I’m sorry.” He rubbed her shoulder; somehow it felt natural to touch her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She shook her head in frustration. “I’ve just never really talked about it, Mr. Andrews. We haven’t told anyone except Dr. Riley, and he didn’t want to know anything.” She looked at him, her expression haunted. “I try to forget that I’ll never get back. I try to just live in this new life, but sometimes, it hits me. I really will never see any of them again. They’ll never know what happened to me. That’s…” she took a deep breath. “That’s the hardest part.”
He slipped his arm around her and pulled her to him, driven by a need to comfort her. He should not give in to it, he knew. With no chaperone, he shouldn’t even be alone with her, but he wanted to hold her. He also wanted to know more, but that could wait for another time. “When you’re ready to talk about it, you can always talk to me, Casey. But I don’t want to upset you. I want to know all about it, but only when you feel up to it.”
She nodded into his shoulder and stepped back, giving him a tentative smile. “You may find you regret that once I get started, but thank you.”
Sam came in with the tea and Tom moved away from Casey, to sit in a safe chair. The conversation moved to more general topics. The question came up about “changing the past,” but this was beyond Tom’s patience. “You may think you are changing your past, but I don’t see it that way. This is the future. That’s all it is for me, for the other people who die, for this city. What happens in 1912 is wide open.”
Sam wasn’t sure. “Then did it happen at all? Has there been a 2006 yet, where the Titanic sinking is history? If it happened once, how do we know we can stop it? What if, in spite of all we do, the ship still sinks? What if we avoid one iceberg, just to hit another?”
Tom felt a headache coming on, as he tried to think it through. Casey threw up her hands. “I refuse to accept determinism, Sam. The universe does not “have it in” for the Titanic or for Mr. Andrews or anybody else. There’s no point getting up in the morning if that’s true.”
Tom agreed, but with a caveat. “I do believe in determinism, Casey, but not in the way you and Sam mean.” He watched her carefully, wondering how important her atheism was to her. “I believe that God has our lives planned and we can’t change his plan. He may have it written that I die on Titanic, but I don’t know that for certain. I must live as if I’ve been given a full measure of years. If I’m to die, then nothing I do will make a difference. But I still must try to make that difference.”
She looked unhappy but said only, “As long as you try. That’s all I’m asking.”
Casey walked him to the door, while Sam took cups to the kitchen. He paused before leaving, needing to say one more thing. “Casey, you’ve had to make an incredible adjustment. I can’t even comprehend what it must have been like for you.” He took her hand in both of his. “You need friends, Casey. You can’t spend your life working, or sitting in this house. There’s a whole world out there. I know it’s not your world, but you need to let it become yours. May I help you do that?”
She blinked back tears and against all propriety, he pulled her into his arms again. “I mean it, Casey. I want to be your friend.” More than your friend, he thought, but he said only, “I want you to meet my friends, too, and my family. You should have lots of people around you and lots of things to do.”
Her voice was small. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Andrews.”
He squeezed her gently then put both hands on her shoulders, looking teasingly into her face. “Now, that won’t do at all,” he told her. “I’m still calling you Casey. You must call me Tom. Please?”
She took a deep breath, nodding. He nodded back, pleased, then kissed her hand and left.
Chapter 16
February 1907
One would think that being told the date and manner of one’s death would be frightening and depressing, especially if the date were just a few years away. Yet Tom felt light and hopeful.
First, of course, was his sincere belief that whatever happened in his life was in the capable hands of God. And God had seen fit to give him a warning of what might be ahead. He believed he could try to prevent it. Indeed Tommy, he told himself as he shaved the next morning, you’re obligated to prevent it. You’re not the only one who dies.
He stared thoughtfully into the mirror, hearing Sam Altair’s voice again. “You need to keep that ship afloat for at least five hours. It’s four hours before the first rescue ship arrives.”
As a managing director of the firm, he was responsible for the integrity of any ship the firm built. Despite the horror of the accident Casey and Sam described, Tom felt confident that he could design the ship to withstand it. He always said that once you understood how a ship could sink, you could design it to float.
The second reason for his hope was Casey. The thought of her made him feel light and giddy, and whatever else he was thinking about, thoughts of Casey intruded. He was drawn to her peculiar mixture of strength and vulnerability. At some point he had decided to believe her story, and he hurt for her. She had lost everything in a single moment—her family, her friends, her plans, her very world—yet she had persevered, tenacious enough to build a new life. But how lonely she must be! He was quite serious when he said he wanted her to meet his friends, and he was already thinking of a night of music and dancing on Saturday. It had occurred to him, however, that one or two friends might be competition for Casey’s affections. Maybe he should just introduce her to his married friends for now.
He had a moment of deep enjoyment when he told Ham about his adventure. He skimmed over his reasons for deciding to see Casey and said nothing of her story, but with a great deal of satisfaction, he described seeing her for the first time and what she looked like. He could see that Ham was kicking himself for not thinking to go first. Ham was also amused that Tom planned on courting her.
“That’s going to get the whole place going again, you know,” he told Tom, who shrugged it off.
“I suspect the payoff will be worth it,” he said, and then he put his hand over his heart. “I must see her again, Ham. I am simply overwhelmed.”
“Well, then, I wish you good luck, sir,” Ham replied, moving to his own desk to begin the scheduling. “You must keep me apprised of your progress!”
Tom laughed. “I’ll do that. I just hope it’s all good news.”
The Belfast City Council had made it a priority to modernize Belfast, and huge strides had been made in recent years to provide electricity and telephone service throughout the city. Tom, always looking for better ways to build ships, was usually one of the first to try a new invention of any kind, and a telephone was no exception. As well, his parents were not afraid to keep up with the times, and had recently installed a telephone at Ardara House, the family home in Comber. He and his mother had developed a pleasant habit of speaking to each other nearly every night. They had always been close, and Tom often confided in her. But he was somewhat reticent to tell her about Casey. He couldn’t tell her everything, and he suspected she would not be as amused as Ham had been.