Marlene Dotterer - Shipbuilder

Tom, Casey, and Sam all managed to smile, as if amused. After a piercing glance to Casey, Sam attempted some spin control. “I knew he thought that, he’s accused me of it, before.” He shook his head. “It’s why I thought he was insane, after all. He believed it enough and was frightened enough of it, to try and kill me. He needs help.”

James sipped his tea. “He’ll get it, now. Your doctor will recommend to the judge tomorrow that he be sent to that asylum you found. He said he’s only disappointed he can’t work with him, himself. He thinks it’s a fascinating case.”

They were all relieved at the satisfactory ending and the conversation moved on, but Sam noticed Mrs. Andrews, as she watched Tom with a thoughtful expression on her face.

Early in September, Casey was unpacking herbs in the greenhouse when Sam came in. He watched for a minute, then moved over to help. “You’ve been awfully quiet the last few days, girl. What’s up?”

She shrugged, not answering, but her expression could just about freeze the herbs. He tried again. “Did you and Tom have a fight?”

She gasped out a laugh. “Don’t be silly. I’m just worried, is all.”

“About what?”

Her look clearly said, you’ve got to be kidding , as she picked up another container of herbs.

He moved to the next table and spread out a batch to help. When Casey spoke, her voice was small. “I wish he wouldn’t go.”

Sam turned in astonishment to stare at her. “He has to go, Case.”

She looked perplexed and angry. “Why? Where is that written?” She shrugged again. “He’s led the last three guarantee groups on maiden voyages. Maybe it’s time to let someone else take the reins. I’m thinking of asking him.”

“Don’t ask him to do that, Casey.” Sam couldn’t even look at her, he was so disturbed.

She threw the herbs onto the counter. “You have no right…”

“ You have no right! Damn it, Casey! You have no right to ask this of him. You’ve lived with him all this time, you’ve loved him, and you don’t understand this one thing?”

“I understand he has children. He has a life, here.” Casey was shaking. “I can’t do it, Sam. I can’t let him walk onto that ship. If he doesn’t come back… how can I live without him? How can I live knowing I could have stopped him?”

“Casey, he can’t do it. No matter what you want, no matter what he wants, he can’t stay away. And if you ask him to, gods, Casey, do you have any idea what that will do to him? Think , damn it! If you force that choice on him, you destroy him. Do you see that?”

She shook her head, stubbornly. “No! It won’t! He has a right to stay with his wife and children. No one will blame him for that.”

“ He’ll blame himself. You know that, Casey. If he’s not there and something happens, you’ll lose him anyway. He will never forgive himself and on some level, he’ll never forgive you for forcing it on him. Is that the life you want?”

He could see her shaking from across the room, as she gripped the table, trying to stay upright, tears falling on the herbs. “How can I live without him?” she whispered. “How do I do this?”

“You just let him go, Casey. You, of all people, understand that we all make our own choices. Yet you want to take his choice away from him and turn him into a prisoner.” Sam sat, trying to remain the calm one, and continued, “He’s worked—we’ve all worked—these past years to make this event a non-event. We have a very good chance of succeeding. But he must be there. If something happens, his knowledge, his skill, will be desperately needed by the two thousand people on that ship. If the worst happens, there are now enough lifeboats. He’ll be on a lifeboat. You can make him promise you that. I think he’d do it anyway, but ask him that. But don’t make him choose between you and those people. Because no matter what his choice is, Casey, you’ll be the loser.”

She looked at him, letting his words sink in. Gradually her shaking lessened, although her tears continued to fall. Eventually she nodded and left the room. He didn’t follow her. He’d stopped her from forcing a choice on Tom, because he sincerely believed the cost of that choice would be more than they would want to pay. But he had forced a choice on Casey, and he did wonder what the price would be for that.

The fallout, as Sam called it, from Tom’s letter, continued to hold the attention of Belfast’s citizens. The ladies of Belfast had rallied behind Casey, even those who had voted her out of the Horticultural Society.

“They were afraid,” Mrs. Herceforth told Casey over tea one afternoon in her elegant parlor, newly painted a delicate pink, with golden wood wainscoting. “A good many of them thought your idea was harmless, but no one was willing to stand up against Sloan. They were too afraid they’d be the only one doing it.” She offered Casey another sandwich. “Even I was afraid, dear. And I doubt that Sloan would ever try to hurt me.”

“And now?” Casey was still leery of their acceptance.

“Your husband has roused the entire town against them.” Mrs. Herceforth shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like it. But somehow, your husband has convinced people that even Catholic rule would be better than being prisoners to those who are supposed to be our brothers.”

“You see, that’s where people have the wrong idea,” Casey put her cup down and stared firmly at her hostess. “I’m concerned that thinking like that will eventually turn people away. Tom isn’t advocating for Home Rule and certainly not for Catholic rule.” She held a hand out in supplication. “Secular rule. Ireland needs secular rule.”

“You mean like in America?” Mrs. Herceforth shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s possible in this country.”

“Nonsense. If the Irish were so afraid of it, they wouldn’t be moving to America in droves.”

Mrs. Herceforth laughed at that. “There’s a lot of truth to that, isn’t there? So when I hear someone say Tom wants Home Rule, I’ll correct them, I promise.” She tilted her head. “Will he run for office, dear?”

“Tom?” Casey shook her head again. “He’s been asked, but he always says the same thing. He wants to build ships.” And I don’t know which occupation will get him killed faster, she thought bleakly.

With effort, she turned her attention back to Mrs. Herceforth. “Tom and Sam and I have discussed it. We all think Tom can do more good on the sidelines, working with both sides. He still has the respect of everyone, even if he is married to me.”

Mrs. Herceforth nodded in slow agreement, her gaze amused. “Well, you should know that you and your children are probably the safest people in Belfast. If your son scrapes his knee, Sloan’s group is worried they’ll be blamed for it. If people continue to demand peaceful solutions, they’ll have to back down. And Tom is just the person to get the Catholics to demand peace at the same time, which is essential, of course.” She smiled broadly. “And thanks to your garden plan, the Catholics who prefer peace are putting the same kind of pressure on their fanatics.”

On 18 September, White Star placed an ad in newspapers worldwide, announcing that Titanic’s maiden voyage would be on 20 March, 1912. Tom and his time travelers, who knew the actual date would be the tenth of April, waited for the next proverbial shoe to drop.

The telegram came late in the day on September twentieth. Lord Pirrie, ill with an enlarged prostate, was at home in London, but he informed the directors that Olympic had been damaged in a collision, and would need repairs. The only dry dock in the world that was big enough for her was at Belfast, the dry dock that was currently occupied by Titanic .