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good girl.’
    ‘It’s the least . . . ’ began Emilia, only to be arrested by the sound of a man’s voice behind her.
    ‘What the devil do you think you are doing?’
    Emilia turned round with a sinking feeling, to see Carl Latimer striding towards her, glaring ferociously.
    ‘I am trying to help — ’ she began.
    ‘Help?’ he demanded as he almost drew level with her. ‘Inducing my mother to leave the safety of her stateroom and take a walk about the ship, without even so much as her companion to assist her? And that is what you call helping?’
    ‘I didn’t —’ began Emilia, her sense of injustice starting to rise with this false accusation.
    ‘And with what result? She collapses on the stairs.’
    He put his arm solicitously around his mother’s shoulder as she staggered, and helped her to keep her feet.
    ‘I suggest you refrain from any further meddling in other people’s affairs,’ he said over his shoulder as he escorted his mother away from the stairs and towards her stateroom.
    Emilia was tempted to make an angry retort, but his words so exactly matched her own feelings that the words died on her tongue. She should have refrained from meddling. She had done no good. On the contrary, she had done a great deal of harm. Making matters worse was the fact that a number of curious glances were being directed towards her. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Emilia turned to go towards the deck.
    ‘Got a mighty fine suitor there,’ said a formidable woman, dressed in grand style. She had the appearance of a very wealthy woman, but a twang in her voice suggested she had not always been wealthy. Emilia recognised her as Mrs Brown, the Denver millionairess who had joined the ship at Cherbourg .
    ‘Suitor?’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He is not my suitor. He can hardly bear to look at me.’
    ‘Is that so? Seems to me a man doesn’t cut up so rough unless his feelings are involved.’
    ‘You don’t understand,’ said Emilia. ‘His mother’s been very ill.’
    Mrs Brown nodded. ‘I know all about it. I’ve met Carl a time or two in America .’ She looked at Emilia appraisingly. ‘How long are you staying on board?’
    ‘Until Queenstown,’ said Emilia.
    ‘Pity. If you were on board til New York we might see some fireworks. It would set a few of the old biddies here by their heels, that’s for sure.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ said Emilia, perplexed.
    ‘No. I don’t think you do,’ laughed Mrs Brown. ‘Enjoy the rest of your trip, my dear, and don’t worry about Mrs Latimer. She’ll pull through.’
     
    ‘What a lot of fuss,’ said Mrs Latimer as her son steered her gently along the corridor, back towards her stateroom.
    ‘I find you collapsed on the staircase and take you back to your stateroom and you call it a fuss? You forget how weak you are. You shouldn’t be out of bed —’
    She sighed, and stopped, shaking off his arm.
    ‘Oh, yes, I should. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I’ve tried telling you once or twice, but you were always saying the doctors were right. I knew a breath of fresh air’d cheer me up but they made such a fuss about it I got frightened and gave in.’
    ‘They were right. Look what happened as soon as you left your stateroom. You’d hardly gone any distance before you collapsed,’ he reminded her sternly.
    ‘Now what’s distance got to do with anything? I hadn’t found my sea legs, that’s all. This Titanic ’s a marvel, but it’s still a ship and I lost my balance.’
    ‘But the doctor  —’
    ‘The doctor’s a cheat. I heard that girl talking to you in the stateroom yesterday, and a good thing I did. It made my spirits rise, I can tell you!’
    He looked uncertain.
    ‘Now then, Carl, don’t you believe me?’
    He pursed his lips. ‘Every doctor we’ve ever had —’
    ‘Have a look at me,’ she said. ‘Do I look poorly?’
    He scanned her face, then gave a rueful smile. Her eyes were sparkling with unwonted