Beautiful Wild - Anna Godbersen Page 0,25
deck, shouting her mother’s and father’s names. The crowd was so dense by then, and she knew she was upsetting the others with her frantic searching. They did not want her to disturb their sense that this was all very normal, that this was all just fine. Their numbers dwindled, and the ship slowly, slowly angled to the port side. Soon empty lifeboats were brought up, along with the happy news that the ship that had hit them was nearby. The other ship—called the Artemis—was a bit bashed in at the stern, but she had taken on no water, and so passengers from the Princess were being brought on deck.
A cheer went up when that news arrived, and people began joking that they should make a quick run back to the dining room for a bottle of champagne to lighten the mood on the way over. But the news did nothing to soothe Vida’s agitation. When she had been back and forth across the deck a thousand times she tried to force her way belowdecks, to search the cabin where her mother and father had intended to spend a peaceful evening. A sailor was blocking the door that led below.
“You can’t go that way, miss,” he said.
“Well, why not?” she fumed. “I bought my ticket just like anybody, and it’s my life to risk if I so choose.”
“There’s nobody down there,” the sailor insisted. He had pink cheeks and fair stubble and Vida wondered if he were even younger than she was.
“How do you know?” she demanded, confident she could bend him to her will.
“We have knocked on all doors, miss. Now, please. I must insist you get to safety.”
“Oh must you?” Vida shot back with bitter irony. “Captain’s orders, is it?”
“No—his,” replied the young man, and she saw Fitzhugh striding in her direction.
“Don’t you dare!” she shouted as he charged forward to pick her up.
She resisted, her legs bicycled wildly, but it was no use. He was much stronger than she was. All her delicate walking, all her careful eating, all that whittling of her already petite person made her the perfect target to be lifted from around the waist, hauled across the deck. A crewmember who stood at the edge of the deck picked up her feet and together they lifted her over the rail and deposited her in the lifeboat fastened to the Princess’s side. Then Fitz signaled, and other crewmen began to slacken the ropes to lower the lifeboat down.
“Wait!” Vida screamed, and stood up as though she might actually grab the Princess by the railing and haul herself back on deck.
One of the other women in the vessel gasped, and Vida realized that she had risen so suddenly, and with such fury, that she had no control of her own body’s trajectory. She might have thrown herself clear out of the boat. Fear spread its icy fingers over her breastbone. Yes, she might have fallen a long distance to the ocean below, where she could see other boats being rowed away into the dense fog. Someone had reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, though. He was holding her steady. She had a final view of the deck of the Princess cleared of all passengers. Only the crew, in their neat navy-and-brass uniforms, remained. Fitzhugh saluted them, gave a final order, then leapt over the edge and landed beside Vida in the lifeboat.
“You bastard,” she said through tight teeth.
She thought he would respond with equal fury, but he enraged her further by smiling amiably, like the hero of newspaper columns. He smoothed the surface of his hair. “Maybe—but one who keeps you safe, my lady.”
Only then did she glance at the person who held her wrist, and saw Sal. She jerked back her hand, and he did not try to hold on. The little boat lowered along the wall of the ship. As they descended she had glimpses into a dining room where all the plates had spilled off the table, into abandoned cabins, into the white-painted halls. The great ship went on tilting, so that at last it loomed over them. She could hardly breathe staring back up its monstrous, looming side, which went on winking at them from its many illuminated portholes.
Meanwhile the water lapped gently and when at last they touched the surface of the ocean she allowed herself a little guilty burst of relief. She hadn’t wanted Fitzhugh’s help, or his empty assurances, but as they rowed away from the