Titanic

Chapter Sixteen

Elizabeth fought to keep her eyes open as she read her book. Her husband still hunched over the desk in their room. She wanted to wait for him before she went to sleep.

Flicking the page, she glanced up at him. He was muttering to himself about plans. If she weren't so tired she would've managed to laugh.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was nearing twenty to twelve. She was exhausted after the day. She had stayed in her evening dress to try help her stay awake, it wasn't working.

"Thomas, come to bed darling. It's late," Elizabeth said closing her book. She threw it to the side, crawling out of bed towards her husband.

She walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. He moved one hand to hold her arm, still writing on the paper as he did.

"Five more minutes. Get dressed and I'll be there soon," Thomas smiled turning his head to kiss his wife before he turned back to his work.

She smiled squeezing his shoulders before moving to the dresser. She began removing the clips keeping her hair up and the jewelled headband she was wearing.

Placing them down, she brushed out her hair. Her mind drifted as she did so. She was already thinking about the baby she and Thomas wanted. They'd be in America for three months so if this worked she should be two months by the time they started their return home. She was hopeful for this, as was Thomas.

Elizabeth was pulled from her thoughts when the room started shaking. She looked to Thomas who had shot up and placed his hands on the desk. He looked back at her before rushing to grab his coat and his plans.

"Stay here. I'll be right back," he said kissing her forehead before rushing out of the room. All she heard was the door slam before he was gone.

Looking around, there was still a slight shudder to the room. Elizabeth placed a hand over her chest fearing the worst for when her husband returned.

***

Thomas marched into the room where the crew had gathered. Plans and paper shoved under his arm. The look of worry on Smith's face did nothing to settle him.

He unrolled a blue print of the ship across the chartroom table. The cut away drawing showed the elevation and all the watertight bulkheads. His hands are shaking. A thin layer of sweat is covering his forehead. Murdoch and Bruce hovered behind the men, eagerly watching.

"Water 14 feet above the keel in ten minutes... in the forepeak... in all three holds... and in boiler room six," Thomas explains pointing to the parts he was talking about.

Smith nods. An indication that everything Thomas was saying is right. He felt sick as he watched the man before him.

"When can we get underway, god dammit?!" Bruce called from behind them. He too was feeling the nerves shared throughout the room

"That's five compartments! She can stay afloat with the first four compartments breached. But not five. Not five. As she goes down by the head the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads... at E Deck... from one to the next... back and back. There's no stopping it," Thomas said exasperated. He didn't know what they could do now.

His mind was split in two. He wanted to direct the men. But he had to get back and get his family to safety.

"The pumps-," Smith said. Hope sparked in his eyes for a moment hoping that will be able to help them.

"The pumps buy you time... but minutes only. From this moment, no matter what we do, Titanic will founder," Thomas said certainly. He knew this the minute he saw the damage done.

It was silent in the room. Every man allowing it to settle that the boat would sink and they all have a job to do to get as many people to safety as possible.

"But this ship can't sink!" Bruce said. His mind completely boggled at the fact that this is now the reality.

"She is made of iron, sir. I assure you, she can. And she will. It is a mathematical certainty," Thomas said turning to him fiercely. His eyes burned a hole through him.

Smith, Thomas and the crew looked at Bruce with angry stares. He had been the one who insist they speed up.

"How much time?" Smith asked. His mouth was dry as he looked to Thomas. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to this ship.

"An hour, two at most," Thomas said after a pause. His eyes flicking over the plans before they met Smiths again.

Bruce felt sick watching as his dream turned into his worst nightmare. He couldn't stop the feeling of dread and guilt.

"And how many aboard, Mr. Murdoch?" Smith asked keeping his eyes on the drawings. He didn't want to face his crew knowing all of them would now be at risk of dying.

"Two thousand two hundred souls aboard, sir," Murdoch answered. His voice shaky as sweat coated his upper lip.

A silence covered the room. There weren't enough lifeboats for everyone. They wouldn't be able to save everyone.

"I believe you may get your headlines, Mr. Ismay,"