down the professional, not the other way around, as Lou’s condescending opponent had wagered. She even baited the wealthy fool to go in a second time, doubling her winnings.
When Andrews’s matches were over and Lou’s prize had been collected—she could still hear the man with the walrus mustache guffawing inside her head—she continued to eavesdrop on the conversations of upper-class passengers that swirled around the observation deck. She knew she should return to her cabin, but she couldn’t tear herselfaway from talk of political scandal and high finance. It was her newspapers come to life!
New matches and intriguing exchanges continued right until the court closed. Only when the lights shut off did Lou high-tail it for home. It had been an exhilarating and even lucrative day.
As Lou scuffled out of a stairwell and hustled toward her cabin, she rehearsed how to present her earnings and the events of the day in such a way that her mother wouldn’t be angry. It would take a deft hand, but Lou was experienced finding ways out of trouble. Her mother wanted Lou to leave her tomboy ways behind in Brighton, so she would burst in and describe what a cultured and refined day she’d had: how she’d acted like a lady and then got the better of the established businessmen.
A murmur down the corridor stopped her just short of her own cabin door. Fifteen cabins away was a man, his head hung so low that Lou couldn’t make out his face. The fellow appeared drunk, bumbling stiffly down the corridor. Lou knew how to handle drunks. They complained about the news in the paper and often weren’t keen on paying for it. The best strategy was to ignore them, even walk away if you needed to. She scampered inside her cabin door before the moaning sot saw her.
The cabin was dark, but Lou did not turn on the light. How long had her mother been asleep? Lou quietly locked the door, hoping to crawl into bed without notice and claim a much earlier arrival. As she tiptoed to her bunk, her mother stirred.
“Mama?” Lou whispered. Her mother didn’t reply, but her breathing was thick, almost like snoring. She snored on occasion (though she always denied it); it meant she was exhausted and sleeping deeply. Lou felt in the dark for the small ladder leading to the top bed. She found a rung and began climbing silently. Then, halfway up, a cold hand wrapped around her ankle. She tried to pull away, but the grip was tight.
“I did what you said, Mama, and played rag dolls at first, and then I went to the squash courts. I was very proper and polite, and I conversed with two investment bankers and watched the ladies …” The fist continued pulling on her, unyielding. “And I won two pounds, Mama! On the game. I won two whole pounds!”
The hand jerked hard, causing Lou to fall off the ladder. She landed on the floor with a thud, pained and surprised. She gathered herself and scooted over to the light switch. She turned it on.
Lou’s mother was climbing out of bed, her head hung low like the drunk in the hall. Black ink had spilled all over the front of her white nightgown. Her hands, always white as porcelain, were bruised and gnarled into menacing hooks. She was …
wrong.
“I’m sorry, Mama!” Lou pleaded. “I didn’t mean to be gone all day!”
Lou’s mother raised her head, revealing a face riddled with black sores. One of the lenses in her spectacles was shattered into a spider’s web, and the eye beneath contained no remnant of her mother. She was twisted and horrible, and crying black tears.
Dark spittle oozed from her mother’s mouth. Then she moaned in agony and lashed out at her daughter.
Lou screamed.
19
CAPTAIN SMITH’S QUARTERS .
SATURDAY, APRIL 13, 1912. 11:40 P.M .
Dr. William O’Loughlin paced the length of the sitting room, pulling hard on a cigarette as Captain Smith’s emergency team assembled. Chief Officer Henry Wilde and First Officer William Murdoch joined Thomas Andrews and Theodor Weiss. J.
When Andrews’s matches were over and Lou’s prize had been collected—she could still hear the man with the walrus mustache guffawing inside her head—she continued to eavesdrop on the conversations of upper-class passengers that swirled around the observation deck. She knew she should return to her cabin, but she couldn’t tear herselfaway from talk of political scandal and high finance. It was her newspapers come to life!
New matches and intriguing exchanges continued right until the court closed. Only when the lights shut off did Lou high-tail it for home. It had been an exhilarating and even lucrative day.
As Lou scuffled out of a stairwell and hustled toward her cabin, she rehearsed how to present her earnings and the events of the day in such a way that her mother wouldn’t be angry. It would take a deft hand, but Lou was experienced finding ways out of trouble. Her mother wanted Lou to leave her tomboy ways behind in Brighton, so she would burst in and describe what a cultured and refined day she’d had: how she’d acted like a lady and then got the better of the established businessmen.
A murmur down the corridor stopped her just short of her own cabin door. Fifteen cabins away was a man, his head hung so low that Lou couldn’t make out his face. The fellow appeared drunk, bumbling stiffly down the corridor. Lou knew how to handle drunks. They complained about the news in the paper and often weren’t keen on paying for it. The best strategy was to ignore them, even walk away if you needed to. She scampered inside her cabin door before the moaning sot saw her.
The cabin was dark, but Lou did not turn on the light. How long had her mother been asleep? Lou quietly locked the door, hoping to crawl into bed without notice and claim a much earlier arrival. As she tiptoed to her bunk, her mother stirred.
“Mama?” Lou whispered. Her mother didn’t reply, but her breathing was thick, almost like snoring. She snored on occasion (though she always denied it); it meant she was exhausted and sleeping deeply. Lou felt in the dark for the small ladder leading to the top bed. She found a rung and began climbing silently. Then, halfway up, a cold hand wrapped around her ankle. She tried to pull away, but the grip was tight.
“I did what you said, Mama, and played rag dolls at first, and then I went to the squash courts. I was very proper and polite, and I conversed with two investment bankers and watched the ladies …” The fist continued pulling on her, unyielding. “And I won two pounds, Mama! On the game. I won two whole pounds!”
The hand jerked hard, causing Lou to fall off the ladder. She landed on the floor with a thud, pained and surprised. She gathered herself and scooted over to the light switch. She turned it on.
Lou’s mother was climbing out of bed, her head hung low like the drunk in the hall. Black ink had spilled all over the front of her white nightgown. Her hands, always white as porcelain, were bruised and gnarled into menacing hooks. She was …
wrong.
“I’m sorry, Mama!” Lou pleaded. “I didn’t mean to be gone all day!”
Lou’s mother raised her head, revealing a face riddled with black sores. One of the lenses in her spectacles was shattered into a spider’s web, and the eye beneath contained no remnant of her mother. She was twisted and horrible, and crying black tears.
Dark spittle oozed from her mother’s mouth. Then she moaned in agony and lashed out at her daughter.
Lou screamed.
19
CAPTAIN SMITH’S QUARTERS .
SATURDAY, APRIL 13, 1912. 11:40 P.M .
Dr. William O’Loughlin paced the length of the sitting room, pulling hard on a cigarette as Captain Smith’s emergency team assembled. Chief Officer Henry Wilde and First Officer William Murdoch joined Thomas Andrews and Theodor Weiss. J.
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