Watchers of Time - Charles Todd [116]
“Do the doctors feel you might eventually remember?”
“They persuaded me not to try,” she said uncomfortably. “They told me it was better if I didn’t. I’ve had dreams—but they were always terrifying, and I’d make certain not to think about them afterward.”
“Do you still have those dreams?” He stopped and said, “Sorry. I meant it from the point of view of understanding what you’ve suffered.”
“Sometimes. Usually. I don’t know. I don’t want to know.”
“And Father James felt that perhaps you could recall some of the voyage. If you tried. Or—given time.”
“Yes. He was convinced it was important to try. To put it behind me instead of running from it. But I didn’t want to open that door. I thought he was wrong to suggest it. There were other survivors. But he was—wary—about approaching them without some authority.”
“What was his interest in the Sedgwick woman?”
May Trent frowned. “I’m not sure. When she disappeared, it was very trying for her family and everyone who knew her. Why this sudden whim, this need to run away? Apparently there wasn’t an answer. And I suppose if Father James found someone like me who might be able to define her state of mind when she took passage, he would have been comforted. No, that’s the wrong word! Satisfied?” Shaking her head, she went on. “I suppose what he really wanted to hear was that she was safe and happy. It was almost as if he needed to know that, to have any peace himself.”
“What if she hadn’t been on board—what if she’d bought her passage and then changed her mind?”
“Oh, I can’t believe that—Father James never once suggested that she hadn’t been on Titanic!”
“After all,” Hamish pointed out sensibly, “the remains were brought back to Norfolk. The proof of death was there.”
“A coffin was brought back to Norfolk,” Rutledge contradicted the voice in his head. “No one would have opened it to have a look at the contents.”
“Father James seemed to be uncertain whether this was a planned ‘escape’ or if she just took an opportunity that presented itself. She’d been on her way to East Sherham from Yorkshire, and she decided to spend an hour in the shops in King’s Lynn, because she was planning a party. When she failed to meet the chauffeur at the appointed time, he was patient, he didn’t raise an alarm for several more hours. And later someone remembered seeing her at the railway station. She was seen again in Colchester, on the train to London. She’d taken nothing with her, which I found odd, but of course she could have bought whatever she needed in London shops.”
“Did Father James tell you the chauffeur’s name?” Rutledge asked.
“If he did, I can’t recall it.”
“What I can’t fathom is the relationship between a priest and one of the Sedgwick family,” Rutledge said. “It doesn’t fit into any explanation I can think of.”
“Actually it was probably nothing more complicated than the fact that Virginia Sedgwick had a grandmother who was Catholic. Father James mentioned that in passing. Mrs. Dabney had been terribly fond of her. If Virginia was homesick, I expect she’d be drawn to something familiar. And Father James had a very practical faith. If she’d come to him, troubled or lonely or just needing comfort, he’d have tried to help her without proselytizing.”
“The Vicar would have been closer to her age,” Rutledge speculated.
But Miss Trent was saying, “I wasn’t very attentive, I’m afraid, although Father James did his best to bring her alive for me.” She had the grace to flush. “I didn’t want to be interested in her. I didn’t want to find myself thinking about her, and then starting to dig into the blackness—I couldn’t face it!”
Her eyes pleaded with him for understanding. “It sounds quite selfish and callous to say that. Especially now that he’s dead. But there was nothing I could do for Virginia Sedgwick,