Ty made a face. Debs made one back.
'Ty,' said Claire, 'if you really can't work, go to Brian's cabin and find out how long he's going to be.'
'Me? Do I look like a messenger boy?'
'YES!'
From everyone in the office.
Ty pretended to huff off.
Three inflatables were to make the initial approach to New York. The first ashore would carry First Officer Jeffers, Dr Hill, Jonas Jones, Mr Benson — relieved to finally be off farmyard duty — and half a dozen other armed crewmen. Their job would be to secure a base at Battery Park and establish a perimeter before cautiously probing further into the city to try and establish what the conditions there were. Claire had tried her best to be allowed on to this first boat, but had been refused. If Jeffers decided it was safe, then she would be permitted to land with the second and third boats, which would contain additional armed crewmen and the passengers who wished to disembark. After that the plan was that vehicles would be commandeered and a convoy would make its way through the city towards the factory in New Jersey where Jonas Jones hoped to secure the part that would allow the Titanic to continue on its voyage. Along the way, passengers leaving the ship would be dropped off to begin their journeys home. If they chose to return to the ship they would be picked up on the way back at prearranged pick-up points. While all of this was happening the inflatables would bring more crew ashore to search for oil and supplies, which would be ferried back to Titanic using larger vessels abandoned at the docks.
Claire couldn't wait to get ashore. Yes, of course it would be dangerous, but she desperately wanted to know what had happened in New York. She had a reporter's insatiable curiosity. Standing on the lower deck, with the waves lapping softly against the mighty ship and the even mightier city laid out in front of her, she was gripped with excitement.
'First boat — away!' cried First Officer Jeffers, and the inflatable began to speed towards shore. The other two inflatables continued to fill with passengers.
'If you're going ashore, now's the time to get on board, ma'am.'
Claire nodded at the coxswain and glanced anxiously along the deck — Ty had not yet reappeared after going to check on Brian.
'Just a few more minutes,' said Claire.
The coxswain nodded reluctantly. Claire glanced down at the inflatables, which were set slightly below her and waiting to be winched down to the water. One was completely full, the other had just the two places left. Her eyes settled on a familiar, wide-brimmed black hat. At that very moment the Reverend Calvin Cleaver raised his head and their eyes met. A shiver ran through her and she looked quickly away, but not before she registered the look he was giving her: cold hatred.
A hand came down on her shoulder and she jumped.
'Claire . . . sorry!' It was Ty. Andy and Debs were with him. 'We were looking everywhere for Brian, but nobody's seen him. His parents are frantic, we've been everywhere we can think of. . .'
Claire had a knot in her stomach. She looked back down at the minister. She could only see the top of his hat. 'OK, Ty, climb in. Andy, Debs — keep looking. Have him paged over the PA. Find him — and keep me posted.'
Claire stepped into the inflatable and took her seat beside Ty. A few moments later the craft was lowered into the water. With the noise of the engine it was impossible to be sure, but Claire thought she could hear someone humming a familiar tune as the inflatable began to speed towards New York.
19
Pain and Laughter
Jimmy's nose was definitely broken, but he was refusing to have it reset — partly because he wanted something to remind him not to be such an idiot in the future, to keep his big mouth shut, but mostly because he knew it would be extremely painful to have it physically snapped back into place. Anyone who had seen him climb repeatedly from the floor of the makeshift boxing ring would not have dreamed of saying that he was scared of pain, but everyone has their limits. They had all seen him knocked down for the sixth time. Much as they hated him, they could not help but be both sympathetic and impressed. Even though his eyes were swollen almost shut; his nose broken, his lips thicker and bloodier than they had ever been before and he was weaving around the ring like a drunk, he had kept coming back for more. Even the boys who hated Jimmy the most were beginning to rebel against Mohican's screamed instructions to hit him again, and harder. One, who'd acquired the nickname Thumper from somewhere, simply refused to hit Jimmy again; at which point Mohican jumped into the ring, hurriedly pulled on a pair of boxing gloves and flattened Thumper. Then he laid Jimmy out cold.
Jimmy lay flat out on his back in the dirt of the yard outside the barracks. The rest of his troop stood looking down at him, not sure what to do. Then Mohican appeared with a bucket of freezing water and threw it over him. The shock of it forced his eyes open as wide as they could go, which wasn't very wide at all. He coughed and spluttered and coughed up blood.
'OK!' Mohican cried. 'All of you have worked hard. Go eat!'
Jimmy lay where he was while the others ran towards the mess hall. They hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, largely thanks to him. Mohican crouched down beside him. Jimmy tensed up, expecting a dig in the ribs or a poke in the eye.
'You did well, son.'
Jimmy grunted.
'Brave. Now listen to me. In a war you have to be able to depend on the man next to you. You have to work as a team. Disciplined. Follow orders. We don't need mavericks. Mavericks get killed, and cause others to get killed. You understand?'
Jimmy nodded. It hurt.
'Now get over to First Aid, get yourself cleaned up.'
Mohican stood up and walked away. Jimmy lay where he was. He was a little groggy still, and a lot confused. Mohican had sounded almost human.
No, I was probably mistaken. Perhaps I have brain damage.
Jimmy lay where he was for another five minutes before forcing himself up on to his knees. He was groggy. He stood. Dizzy. He began to stagger along towards the First Aid hut. His route took him past the mess hall. The food smells almost made him throw up. He was aware of being watched as he passed the open doors. He looked straight ahead. It took all of his strength to walk in a straight line and upright.
When he reached the First Aid hut the nurse who'd scolded him previously took one look at him, then quickly guided him to a bed and made him lie down. She fetched a sponge and a basin of water and began to wash the worst of the mud and blood from him. He thought he heard her mutter, 'He's a monster,' under her breath. She definitely said, 'I will need Dr Moore to come and reset that nose.'
That's when he told her no, to leave it as it was.
'It'll set crooked,' she said.
'Fine,' said Jimmy.
'Up to you.' She gave him some painkillers and told him to try and sleep for a while until they took effect.
'Don't need to,' Jimmy whispered. She turned to pick up some ointment for his lips. When she turned back he was fast asleep.
It was late evening when Jimmy woke, stiff and sore. His nose was thick with dried blood and his head ached. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, inadequate for the size of the room and leaving a third of it in shadow. The other beds were empty, the nurse's station deserted and, when he checked, the doctor's small office at the far end was locked. But he heard the scrape of a chair from outside, and when he peered out he saw that the wild-looking girl he'd previously stolen food from was back, sitting in exactly the same place and position — or perhaps she'd never left. He didn't remember her being there earlier but, truth be told, he remembered very little from earlier — besides the fact that he'd taken a beating.