The Time Spell Page 6
Saturn just licked his lips and gave another miaow.
‘You know you can be really annoying sometimes,’ I said, but once again he ignored me.
‘Well, see if I care,’ I said. ‘You can stay up here for as long as you like. At least Ernestine won’t be able to find you.’
Almost as if he understood me, Saturn wriggled out of my arms and on to the seat of the lifeboat. He stretched and then curled himself up, out of sight underneath the lifeboat covers. I thought about slipping in next to him, but just then my stomach gave a huge grumble and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten for hours.
Suddenly I was very sorry that I had refused Mikey’s bacon sandwich.
‘You stay there, Saturn,’ I said, as I climbed down from the railings. ‘And be careful. I’m not sure if cats are allowed on ships, so it’s better if no one sees you. I’m going to find myself something to eat. I’ll get something nice for you too. I’ll bring you a special treat. I’ll be back in a –’
Then my words stopped and my hunger vanished, as an ice-cold, shivery chill ran up and down my spine. My legs went weak and I slumped down to the ground.
I looked at the back of the lifeboat, rubbed my eyes and then looked again.
Nothing had changed.
The sea was still dark blue and wavy. The lifeboat was still big and white and shiny. And the letters on the lifeboat still spelled out
LIFEBOAT No. 7
RMS TITANIC.
Later, I was still sitting on the hard wooden boards of the deck. It wasn’t especially cold, but I was shaking all over. This was the scariest thing that had ever, ever happened to me. I knew that crying wasn’t going to help me now, but I couldn’t stop.
Getting stuck in the past was bad enough. Getting stuck on a boat bound for New York in the past was bad enough. Getting stuck on the Titanic was the worst thing ever.
I thought of all the boats that had sailed in all the time zones of all the world. There must have been thousands, if not millions of them.
So how come I’d got stuck on the only one that I knew for sure was going to hit an iceberg and sink to the bottom of the icy sea?
Soon my throat was sore and my head hurt. I wasn’t crying any more, but I couldn’t hold back the horrible, hiccupy sobs. The sleeves of Mikey’s mother’s dress were soaked with my tears.
Then I heard footsteps. I looked up to see a sailor approaching. I scrambled to my feet and raced towards him.
‘We’ve got to turn back,’ I cried. ‘It’s an emergency!’
The sailor laughed. ‘An emergency, is it? Did you forget to kiss your boyfriend goodbye?’
I shook my head angrily. This was no time for jokes – especially for ones as pathetic as that.
‘It’s a real emergency. This ship is going to sink!’
The sailor laughed even louder.
‘Don’t be silly,’ he said. ‘Everyone knows that the Titanic is unsinkable.’
‘Please!’ I begged. ‘You’ve got to listen to me. I can’t explain how I know, but I know for sure that this ship is going to sink. You have to do something before it’s too late.’
Then the sailor stopped laughing. He leaned forward and looked closely at my clothes. All of a sudden, I knew that Mikey’s mother’s best Sunday dress wasn’t going to impress him.
‘Aha,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday. I know why you’re making up this tall tale. You thought I might get distracted and not notice that you shouldn’t be here. You know well that this deck is reserved for first-class passengers. Now come along with me and don’t make a fuss. I’ll bring you back to where you belong. You’ll be happier with your own kind.’
He was a huge man and I knew there was no point in resisting as he took my arm and half led, half dragged me along the deck.
Soon we came to a gate. Still holding me with one hand, the sailor used the other hand to take a key from his pocket. He unlocked the gate and pushed me gently inside.
‘Be a good girl and stay with your own people from now on,’ he said. ‘Things are easier for everyone that way.’
Then he locked the gate again and returned the way he had come.
I was still clinging on to the gate when I heard a quiet voice behind me.
‘Must be lovely in First Class.’
I turned to see a girl who looked like she might be about my age.
‘Are you feeling all right?’ she asked, looking at my red eyes.
I’m perfectly fine, thank you – except for the fact that this ship is going to sink very soon.
‘It’s just the wind,’ I said. ‘It’s so strong that it’s bringing tears to my eyes.’
Why did I bother lying? We were on the Titanic, after all, and I knew what was going to happen next.
She held out her hand. ‘I’m Mary,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’
At first I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure I had time for making friends. I had a few thousand people to save from an icy, watery death.
But then I figured that if I was going to save this ship, I might need some help, so I reached out and took her hand in mine.
‘I’m Lauren,’ I said, as we shook hands politely.
Mary smiled at me. I wondered how friendly we would have to be before I got around to mentioning casually that the ship we were on was going to sink soon.
Then my stomach rumbled and I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to save anyone if I died of hunger first.
So I smiled back at her. ‘Any idea where we can get something to eat?’ I asked.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I was just on my way to the dining room. It’s very grand. I’ll show you, if you like.’
I followed Mary and soon we were standing in a huge room. It didn’t look very grand to me, but what did I know? I was only an accidental tourist from another time and place. Crowds of noisy people were seated round large tables.
‘Are you on your own?’ asked Mary.
I wasn’t sure how to answer this. I knew that in the present I’m too young to fly on my own, but would I have been allowed on the Titanic on my own?
For the millionth time since I’d been in 1912, I wished that, just for one minute, I could get to a computer to Google something.
Mary was waiting for an answer.
‘Er, I’m with my mum and dad,’ I said quickly.
She looked around the room. ‘Where are they?’
Good question.
‘Er … Mum has a very bad cough, so she’s going to stay in her cabin for a while. Dad is taking care of her.’
Mary took my arm. ‘Come and sit with my family so,’ she said, leading me across the room.
We stopped at one of the big tables. ‘Mammy, this is Lauren,’ said Mary.
Mary’s mother had a gentle, tired face. She smiled as the small baby she was holding wriggled on her lap.
‘Hello, Lauren,’ she said. ‘It’s nice to meet you. This is Baba.’
I was just thinking what a strange name that was for a baby, when Mary explained.
‘We haven’t given him a real name yet. We’re going to do that when we get to America. It’ll be a new name for Baba and a new beginning for us all.’
The baby gurgled at me and then broke into a huge, gummy smile. I thought he was the sweetest baby I had ever seen.
Mary and I sat down, and for a while no one said much, as big plates of food arrived. Beef and gravy and soggy carrots wouldn’t usually excite me, but I was so hungry it seemed like a feast. I tried not to look too greedy as I stuffed my face. Then, when I hoped no one was watching, I pushed a few scraps of food into the pocket of my dress, to give to Saturn.
When the food was finished, Mary told her mother the story about my imaginary mother with her imaginary cough, and my imaginary kind father who was taking care of her.
Mary’s mother patted my hand. ‘I have some cough medi
cine in my cabin,’ she said. ‘Mary can bring it to you later.’
Then Mary turned to me. ‘My daddy is already in America,’ she said. ‘He went there last year. He’s got a job and a place for us to live. It’s called an apartment and it’s got two rooms – imagine that! When I see my daddy, I’m going to give him the biggest hug he’s ever had. He’s going to be so happy to see little Baba – he’s never seen him before. And he’s going to choose a name for him too.’
Mary’s big sparkly eyes and her happy smile were starting to make me feel sick. I couldn’t bear to hear her talking about her plans for a wonderful new life in America – plans that might soon be coming to a very sad, very watery end.
‘Daddy wrote us a letter. It came just before we left.’
As Mary said this, she pulled a very tattered piece of paper from her pocket. She flattened it out and started to read what her father had written.
‘“I’ve already asked the foreman for the day off, so I’ll be able to meet you all. When the Titanic pulls into New York, I’ll be there waiting on the dock. On that day, I’ll be the proudest and happiest man in all of America.”’
Mary refolded the letter and put it carefully back into her pocket.
I could feel the blood rushing from my face. The poor man had a long wait ahead of him. The Titanic was never going to dock in New York or anywhere else.
Would Mary ever hug her father again? Would her father ever see his sweet little baby boy? Would poor little Baba die without a name?
I had to do something.
I jumped up from the table.
‘Er … excuse me,’ I said. ‘I have to go to see how my mother is doing.’
‘I’ll walk to your cabin with you,’ said Mary, and before I could object, she had jumped to her feet and was waiting for me to lead her to my imaginary cabin.
I walked as slowly as I could, with Mary walking equally slowly beside me. I tried to make it look like I had a place to go, and like I knew how to get there. Mary didn’t seem to be paying much attention to where we were going anyway – she was still talking about how much she was looking forward to seeing her father again.
Mary was a really nice girl, but I wondered how I was going to get away from her.
And I wondered what I was going to do when I did get away from her.
Suddenly I stopped walking and turned to face her. I knew I couldn’t tell her the truth about the Titanic. She’d never believe me. And even if she did believe me, what on earth could she do about it anyway?
But I had to talk to someone, and it wasn’t like I had a hundred friends all lined up waiting to give me advice.
‘Mary, what would you do if you could go back in time and change the past?’ I asked.
She wrinkled her forehead. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Like, if you knew something really bad was going to happen, would you try to stop it?’
‘What kind of really bad thing?’
I racked my brains trying to think of something to illustrate my point. The problem was, none of the disasters I could think of had actually happened yet.
‘Like the famine,’ I said in the end, thinking of Granny Bridget. ‘What would you do if you went back in time to just before the famine? Would you warn the people about the blight? Would you tell them not to plant potatoes that year?’
‘But they only had potatoes,’ she said. ‘If they didn’t plant them, they would have starved anyway. What else could they do?’
I slapped my forehead. She was right, of course. It wasn’t like the poor people could have gone to the garden centre and bought a few courgette or asparagus plants instead.
‘Bad example,’ I said.
‘So give me another one,’ she said, smiling. ‘I like this game.’
I felt like crying. How could I make her see that this wasn’t a game, without frightening the life out of her?
‘I can’t think of another example right now. I haven’t got time.’
‘But we’ve got lots and lots of time.’
No, we don’t. Not when we’re racing towards an iceberg that has our name on it.
‘Examples are stupid anyway,’ I said. ‘Just tell me – would you warn people, if you could go back in time and if you knew something bad was going to happen to them?’
‘That’s a lot of ifs,’ said Mary.
‘I know, but what would you do?’
She thought for ages – like she had all the time in the world.
Then she shook her head slowly. ‘No,’ she said. ‘If it has already happened, then that’s the way it was meant to be. It would be wrong to change it. Wouldn’t it?’
I didn’t answer. Mary sounded so wise. But then she thought I was talking about some vague historical might-have-been stuff.
Would she have been so wise if she knew I was talking about stuff that was going to happen to her?
Very soon.
‘My cabin is just up here,’ I said. ‘Thanks for walking with me.’
She smiled. ‘You’re welcome,’ she said, as she turned and walked back the way we had come.
As soon as I got round the next corner, I stopped walking. I sat on the floor and leaned my back against the wall. I put my head into my hands as I tried to think straight.
Tilly had got the Titanic DVD for Christmas, and for months it had been our favourite film. We’d watched it at least five times.
Each time I’d seen it, though, I’d been looking at Kate Winslet’s pretty dresses and fancy hairstyles.
I’d gazed at Leonardo DiCaprio and hoped that, despite what I knew, one time he was going to drag himself on to a passing deckchair and be saved, so that he and Kate could live happily ever after.
But what good was all that stuff going to do me? Why hadn’t I paid attention to the bits that might help me now?
Like how much time did I have left?
I knew that the ship didn’t sink on the first night, but after that I had no idea. Was the ship going to sink tomorrow night, or did I have a few more days left to come up with a plan?
Tilly would know that kind of thing, but how could I ask her? She wasn’t even born yet – her granny wasn’t even born yet!
Granny!
I smiled to myself as I remembered one wet Sunday afternoon a few months earlier. I was watching Titanic with my granny, who is very old and very religious.
When the ship crashed into the iceberg she just shook her head, sighed and said, ‘Little did they know.’
‘Little did they know what?’ I remembered asking her.
‘When they were saying their prayers that Sunday morning, little did they know that they’d be going to meet their maker that evening.’
Good old Granny.
The ship was going to have its date with the iceberg on Sunday night. Mikey had told me that this was Thursday, so I had three whole days to come up with a plan.
But then I had another problem. Even if I could figure out a way to save the Titanic, was it the right thing to do?
Maybe Mary was right. Maybe it was wrong to mess with the past. Would saving all those lives change the course of history? Would it make things better or worse?
Maybe there was someone really evil on board who was supposed to die. If I interfered and saved his life, maybe he’d go on to invent some horrible bomb that would wipe out everyone on earth. And it would all be my fault!
Or maybe there was someone who would go on to be a dangerous driver. Maybe he’d go back to Ireland and knock down my great-grandmother. And then I’d never get to be born, and I’d never get to save the Titanic anyway.
I sighed. It was all much too complicated for me.
How could I hope to change something that I couldn’t even begin to understand? Then I thought of Mary and how hopeful she was for her future in America.
I thought of her kind mother, who right now was probably measuring out medicin
e to give to my imaginary sick mother. I thought of Baba with his chubby fists and his gummy smile, and of Mary’s father waiting in New York for the ship that was never going to arrive.
I thought of myself too – only twelve and with my whole life in front of me.
And I knew I had to do something.
I walked until my feet were sore. Most of the time I was totally lost and walking in circles. Every time I came to a gate that seemed to lead to the First-Class area, it was firmly locked.
Just when I was about to give up, I came to a corridor that was narrower than the others. A small sign on the wall said – STAFF ONLY.
I ignored the sign and walked along the corridor until I came to a single grey door. I pushed the door open and found myself in a storeroom. There were shelves from floor to ceiling, stacked high with sheets and towels.
One shelf was labelled – FIRST-CLASS TOWELS. I picked up a bright white towel and rested my cheek against it. It was the softest thing I had ever felt – like a cloud ought to feel. For one second, I thought of making myself a bed from a heap of these soft, cosy towels. I could curl myself up and drift off to sleep. I could dream happy dreams and forget all my troubles … until the icy water started to flow in.
The thought of the cold water pushed away all thoughts of sleep. I put the towel under my arm and looked around.
There was another door on the opposite side of the room. I pushed this door open and couldn’t resist a small smile. I was on a much larger, fancier corridor, and I knew at once that I had made it to the First-Class section.
After much more walking, I found myself up on deck. I put my hand into my pocket and felt the scraps of food I’d saved for Saturn. I wasn’t feeling especially warm towards Saturn right then, but I figured that I’d better feed him. He hadn’t been a whole lot of help so far, but if he died of starvation he’d be even more useless.
I found lifeboat number seven and stood underneath it, waiting for a very, very old couple to walk very, very slowly past. As soon as the coast was clear, I whispered as loudly as I dared, ‘Saturn, are you still in there?’