‘Come on, Miss, move along!’ anAmerican-sounding voice called from behind her. ‘She’ll sail without you!’
Edith turned to see a slender lady,elegantly dressed, with a cigarette holder pressed tightly between herlips. She puffed out a long thread of smoke. ‘Sorry,’ Edithapologised.
‘I was just kidding,’ the lady said with awink. ‘She’s quite something, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Truly amazing,’ Edith replied, quitetaken with the enigmatic woman.
‘Seven hundred feet long,’ the Americansaid. ‘Twenty-thousand tons. You can see why it’s one of the WhiteStar Line’s ‘Big Four’.’
‘Yes,’ Edith answered. ‘Where areyou going?’
‘Back home to New York,’ the womanreplied. ‘And you?’
‘Halifax,’ Edith replied, her gazeshifting from the boat to the American. She was savouring the few momentsthat she had with this enchanting woman, for she knew that as soon as theyboarded, their differently classed tickets would ensure that they never got tomeet again on the voyage. ‘I’m going to see my twin sister who livesthere.’
The American drew in a long drag of airthrough the cigarette, then raised her head and expelled it slowly. ‘Howdelightful to have a twin. Well, it was lovely to meet you. Bonvoyage!’ she said, and marched passed Edith. Seconds later, she wasabsorbed into the growing crowds beginning to cross the narrow gangplank ontothe ship.
It was time to go.
Edith picked up her suitcase, found thecorrect boarding gate for her class and joined the noisy procession ofpassengers about to enter the magnificent boat. Without her husband’sknowledge, Edith had withdrawn a substantial amount from their joint savingsaccount to purchase a single-berth room in second class for herself.
‘Tickets!’ a friendly steward cried fromthe mouth of the gate. ‘Have your tickets ready, please, ladies andgentlemen!’
Edith removed her ticket from her handbagand held it aloft for the steward’s inspection.
‘Lovely, thank you, madam. Enjoyyour trip.’
Edith smiled and followed a family of fourup the gangplank, listening to their excited chatter, then, with someapprehension, stepped onto the boat. It was really going to happen.
Edith knew her room number off byheart—202—but she double-checked her ticket just to be sure. She couldeasily have asked for directions to her room, but she preferred the idea ofexploring the boat independently.
She crossed through a warren of corridorsand interconnecting doors, feeling certain that in seven days she would neverget to explore all the hidden nooks and crannies that a ship of this size musthold. Despite the extravagant amount that she had spent on the voyage,Edith’s ticket did not afford her the luxury of a window; her cabin was buriedfar below deck, somewhere near the centre of the ship. But Edith washappy with it. The room was very comfortable, comprising a single bed, asettee and, between the two, a washstand and make-up mirror.
Fifty-five minutes later, the deepthundering moan of the ship’s horn resounded in Edith’s cabin, announcingimminent departure. Edith decided to wait until the ship was sailingbefore she braved the decks, which right now would be heaving with a sea offaces watching as their loved ones slowly disappeared from view. Inexplicably, Edith couldn’t bring herself to join them. It made herthink of Mary taking a similar voyage, with nobody there to wave her off. Nobody to care about her.
Edith waited until the ship had beensailing for an hour until she left her cabin for the first time. Thethronging decks had thinned out and she found a quiet spot on the port sidewhere she could be alone. Looking out to sea, there was nothing but agently rolling ocean. No land behind her. No land in front ofher. Her thoughts turned to Joshua. She had left him with nouncertainty that their marriage was over. She had been betrayed and,despite his begging and pleading, nothing that he could ever do would repairthe damage. Edith stared at the ring on her left hand. Afterraising a son as a single mother and having been rejected by her family for it,she had hoped that her marriage to Joshua Leyden would be forever. With aheavy heart, Edith removed her ring and held it between her thumb andforefinger. Everything it symbolised was gone. Drawing back herhand, Edith launched the ring into the sea; its insignificance not evencreating a visible splash on the ocean surface.
Edith fumbled at the collar of her coatand withdrew the silver locket that was hanging around her neck. She heldit tightly and stared into the horizon.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mortonhad just left a brief, yet informative meeting with Susan Catt: the final pieceof the jigsaw was complete. He was now sitting in his Mini in the carpark of Hastings Cemetery. There were four other cars but no sign oftheir occupants. His window was down and he was savouring the peace andquiet. Beside him, on the passenger chair was a bulging file containingeverything pertaining to the Mercer Case, all filed in chronologicalorder and prefaced with a typed, four-page summary explanation of hisfindings. He had duplicated everything and posted it this morning toJenny Greenwood. In his rear-view mirror, he spotted a green VauxhallCorsa pulling in. It was bang on the scheduled meeting time. Mortonstepped from his car and waved at the woman behind the wheel. Sheacknowledged him and parked her car beside his.
‘Hi,’ Morton said, greeting thewoman. ‘Morton Farrier.’
‘Melissa—Ray’s daughter,’ she said with abroad smile. ‘He’s very excited about all this.’ She moved aroundthe car and opened the passenger door. She was tall with shoulder-length brownhair and wore smart clothes and heels.
‘Hello, Morton,’ Ray Mercer said.
‘Hi, Ray,’ Morton replied, approaching theold man. His face had become more drawn and thin since their lastmeeting, evidently the cancer was strengthening its grip on him. Mortonwas thankful to have been able to bring the case to a close so that Ray couldknow what became of his great aunt. Morton offered his hand and receivedRay’s thin bony hand in his.
‘Would you like to sit in my car for amoment and I’ll talk you through what I’ve found?’ Morton said, pulling openthe passenger door for Ray. He turned
