Rebirth
by
Bob Clements
Based on, and continuing, the story FOUR DAYS IN APRIL by Del_Kaidin
(c) The Waterbearing Fish
Chapter 1/Scene 1
April 1937. Like a ship sailing through an ice field, the world seemed drifting towards war--Manchuria,
Ethiopia, Spain, the Rhineland--yet somehow avoiding its icebergs. Where George and Mary ruled Britain and
the Empire twenty five years ago, their son George and daughter-in-law Elizabeth now reigned. Edward, once
the heir, was in self-imposed exile over "the woman I love."
These matters little concerned Solomon Grey. The tenth Lord Grey had personal matters occupy his time. A
surprise call two weeks after Christmas leave revealed Lord Robert and Lady Lucille to be frailer than he
imagined. "Old age," the doctors told him, "they won't last a Yorkshire winter." Death came five days later.
Why had they summoned him? He knew their wishes--burial in the estate chapel, necessary fees paid, etc.--
the wills were quite specific. Unfortunately, both parents alternated between periods of unconsciousness and
delirium; making personal farewells impossible. Yet there must have been a reason.
Dry-eyed, the new lord supervised the funeral arrangements with hard-learned skill befitting an officer of the
Life Guards. His superiors relieved him from active duty; quickly granting the young peer reserve status.
Probate, too, was swift.
There were family members in America who had better claims but they didn't object when he assumed the title
and inherited the estate. As if, Solomon mused, a deal had been struck beforehand. He remembered two
cousins visiting during the old king's silver anniversary. So great was Lord Robert's anger over Josiah and
Jennifer's contempt for English society, Lady Lucille feared his heart giving out under the rage. Thank God
they were not here!
Instead, he had a different problem. How would he handle the approaching anniversary? April 15th was
always a sad time at Grey manor. The routine never varied: mourning dress, small meals, prayer service. No
visitors.
Originally, the staff joined Lord Robert and Lady Lucille. But deaths and resignations thinned out the ones
who knew why; their replacements were not asked to come--only to wear black and remain respectful towards
those who came.
Solomon never understood his parents' reasons, having no memory of the woman they honored, yet he resolved
to continue the observance at least until the last of the old staff left. Meanwhile, there were estate papers to
read; perhaps they could shed more light on how custom became tradition. Maybe then he would know more
about the mysterious Catherine.
Chapter 1/Scene 2
Tis said "the dead can hear the living." The cross-shaped, stone-carved, chapel stood in the midst of graves;
ensuring the living could hear them. Five pews, an altar, and a slightly raised pulpit made up the body. The
right arm held Lord Robert and Lady Lucille; the left arm remembered their niece.
Each wall of this arm depicted a New Testament scene (the attempted stoning, the anointing of the feet,
meeting Christ in the garden) with the ladies involved resembling Catherine. On the vault lid was what looked
to be a celtic cross design. But her body had never been found. So the burial space became, over time, a
depository of documents and photos relating to "Miss Grey."
Here Solomon came, on the day of remembrance, sorting through stacks of yellowing paper and albums of
fading photographs. He looked at and read everything; small mountains of words and pictures soon occupied
the wooden benches around him. Letters from America asking for help concerning "a private matter." His
mother's diaries describing some trouble but not identifying it. Servants' accounts praising Catherine's gentle
ways yet concerned over her withdrawn manner.
Then the tragedy. Newspaper and magazine clippings from THE TIMES and THE ILLUSTRATED LONDON
NEWS. Memoranda from survivors who made the journey north. In particular, Matthew Light and Leslie
Albertson.
The two men, aside from an Erin O'Rilley who his father's business ledger named as the maid/companion hired
for Catherine's trip, had apparently been closest to her. Matthew wrote of his sorrow at her loss; Les had only
written: "She wished _______ to be happy always." The transcriber/typist had, at someone's request, left out
the offending word. And neither man, unfortunately, was alive to "fill in the blank."
They died at Gallipoli, amid the trenches' squalor, having survived bone-chilling water in a swamped
collapsible boat. Somehow, despite differences in wealth and status, they had become friends. Was it when
they helped Mrs. Brown escape?
She, herself labeled "unsinkable," came to share memories. "Why Catherine and Erin didn't board a lifeboat is
beyond me. There was space available. They were near the Grand Stairway entrance to Titanic's boat deck
when I yelled for them to join me. After Matthew and Les put me in #6, I looked around but they had
vanished. I hoped they were on another lifeboat. Then I heard Catherine sing and I knew she and Erin were
still aboard.
That night, I prayed for a miracle. But when Carpathia found us, and I checked the purser's list, I realized God
had other plans. His will be done."
Why didn't those plans include living, thought Solomon, laying aside Molly's words. Several survivors also
mentioned hearing "a woman's beautiful voice." "Distinct and serene." "Almost angelic." "Settled us right
down." He wished he had heard it.
Chapter 1/Scene 3
Two staff members joined their new master that afternoon--Thomerson the butler, an Indian Army veteran who
fought Boers and Turks, and his grand-daughter Louisa. Solomon wasn't surprised by their attendance; Lord
Robert had called Thomerson "my most loyal friend" and Lady Lucille had proclaimed Louisa her "beloved
daughter." The remaining six servants, for whatever reason, could not gain his parents' affection. Thus, they
left the estate whenever possible. Solomon understood; he, too, had permission to leave on this day and he
took advantage of it. As "lord of the manor," however, duty determined otherwise.
So he heard Thomerson and Louisa enter the chapel body; their steps echoing throughout the building. He
rose and greeted them.
"I'm glad you came," Solomon motioned towards the paper/picture stacks, "there doesn't seem to be any
prayers written down. Are they from the BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER?" Thomerson nodded.
"Yes, milord. From its 'Forms of Prayer' and 'The Burial of the Dead' sections. Lady Lucille prepared these
verses." Immediately, Louisa pulled out two sheets of paper from her purse; giving one to her grandfather and
one to herself. The butler glanced through his lines and began.
"Almighty God, we remember this day Thy faithful servant Catherine, and we pray that, having opened to her
the gates of everlasting life, Thou wilt receive her into Thy joyful service."
Then Louisa started; her words complementing the older man's prayers.
"Out of the deep have I called unto Thee."
Their responses similar to an actor and a chorus in Greek tragedy.
"O Israel, trust in the Lord, for with the Lord there is mercy."
"O Lord hear my voice."
"And He shall redeem Israel from all her sins."
"My soul fleeth unto the Lord before the morning watch."
"And with Him is plenteous redemption."
"In His word is my trust."
"Unto Almighty God we commend the soul of our sister departed, and we commit her body to the deep; in sure
and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ..."
The service ended. Solomon knew too little of Catherine to speak. Nor did he seek help from the vicar.
Reverend Chapin had just begun his ministry; the young clergyman wouldn't have known her.
He thanked Thomerson and Louisa again. Such devotion was priceless. He did ask, before they left, for a
chair. The vault papers, once more, required his attention.
Chapter 1/Scene 4
Solomon rose from the chair Thomerson brought to the chapel. "Focus," the new lord told himself, "treat this
mystery like a Harrow assignment or a Sandhurst problem. The answer is here. I just have to find it." He
walked over to the wall paintings; stretching his legs and studying their images.
Both his mother and the artist said Catherine chose the scenes and modeled for them. The first, the stoning,
saw her as a tramp: peasant dress and blouse; hair loose; eyes saucy yet sympathetic. The foot anointing
portrait revealed her as a priestess: white-robed with a matching veil, hair brushed, eyes expressing a
believer's faith. The garden encounter showed her as a princess: a circlet crown, a royal gown, hair arranged,
eyes full of innocent wonder.
The effect was stunning. "Took pictures of Catherine wearing various costumes," Lady Lucille recorded in her
diary and Solomon recalled the entry, "Mr. Woodville will use these as references while painting the chapel's
left alcove walls. She looked sad as usual until she changed clothes. Then she literally became each woman:
voice, movements, etc. Can understand why ______ was smitten."
A forbidden love? With who? He retrieved his mother's book for 1912. She knows but won't tell. Only
hints. "Mr. Woodville finished Catherine's alcove paintings today. He's caught the essence of each of her
characters. Bishop Tapert pronounced the drawings biblically faithful which satisfied milord husband who
had grave reservations about their religious accuracy. Still, he is not happy about telling Mary Magdalene's
story; our alcove, he declares, will only show the Lord rising from the dead and His image will come from a
church illustration--not be based on 'an Irish poacher's son whose money made him respectable.' I tactfully
brought up our ancestors' circumstances and he eventually calmed down."
Solomon sighed. Lord Robert was quick to show displeasure about anything threatening his perception of
things. Yet he could be patient and kind and his friendship was valued. Lady Lucille was more diplomatic in
expressing disagreement--a raised eyebrow, a gentle questioning tone--it was rare for her temper to be
unleashed.
But her ladyship was a private person despite an outgoing personality and her diaries reflected that fact. It
was as if she were two people: confident lady and doubting woman. "Alex wired today. Pleaded for help
with _______. Milord was disinclined to assist. 'My brother's wild oats are bearing fruit,' he said, 'like
David's did after he seduced Bathsheba. I'll not rescue him.' You're not aiding Alex, I replied, you're helping
_______. And perhaps us as well. 'In what way?' I explained my idea and he looked at me. 'It might work,'
he smiled, 'I'll check with Jules tomorrow.'
Our barrister agreed with me and dear Robert put the plan into effect. _______ will stay with us until Spring
and we will adopt ______. Alex and his family will renounce their claims to the Grey title, manor, and estate
and we will raise _____ as our own.
It is fortunate ______ does not show and our doctors and servants are discrete. _____ knows and is sad. But
Alex has signed the agreement and we cannot change it without him doing the same. Had we known _______
before, realizing she is not her father, things assuredly would have been different.
Our house guest has left England today. First stop, Cherbourg, then Queenstown, then New York. Jules has
placed our petition before the court and feels certain of its passage. We will raise ______ to be a son any
mother would be proud of. In time, if God wills and Robert approves, we may reunite them.
Thomerson brought us the news. Catherine died when the Titanic sank. I can't believe she wasn't able to find
space on a lifeboat; surely, her maid seemed decisive enough. Mrs. Brown wired us her regrets; said she had
found a husband for my niece. All for naught. I wonder if Robert and I are like David; have we sinned
without thinking?
At least she is with her young man. The man who died before her. The man who left her here." It made sense
now, reasoned Solomon, Catherine had been "ravished" and she had come here to give birth. But who was the
child?
His walking from one painting to the next led him to stop before the tramp. "Why didn't you get off the ship
cousin? You had no reason to choose death." She smiled, a sad crooked grin, her eyes drawing him to her.
And in the process, he looked closer at the people around her.
He saw his father and male relatives surround her with stones in hand. His mother grabbing a covered basket.
Was it possible? "Your family needed help because you were 'delicate'?" He moved to the priestess.
"You loved him, didn't you?" He gazed up at Christ. "And he returned your love as well. But he died first..."
Again, Solomon noticed familiar images in the crowd around the lady and her lord. His father as the host; in
shock at the sight. His mother clutching a wrapped figure; its basket nearby. "Which is why you decided to
follow him." He shook his head. "Did you love your child that little?"
Then he came to the princess. Her outfit proclaimed decadence; yet she effortlessly held the sleeping child. It
dawned on Solomon that this painting--despite Christ's loving presence--was an idealized mother and son
portrait. She, apparently, did care.
He looked at each wall again; studying Catherine's face. Something he had not previously noticed leaped out
at him. Her eyes. He had seen their blue color before.
In the morning, while shaving, he had glanced at the mirror..."No. My parents wouldn't have kept that from
me--would they?" He went back to the vault; pulled out her ladyship's last diary; read the final entry..."The
doctors have given their verdict; milord and I are not long for this world. Against Robert's wishes, I've called
Solomon home so I can tell him what he should have been told years ago. I only hope he understands why we
did what we did. God help our 'Solon' if he does not."
"Mother, what have you done? You adopted me..." He grabbed the 1912 book; flipped through its spring
entries. The court approved the Greys' petition May 1, his birthday, the lord justice noting the child as 'a
Titanic orphan.' That meant he had been born before the ship sailed..."Oh my God!!!" The journal fell from
suddenly nerveless fingers. He stumbled towards "the sinner;" once solid legs buckling under his weight.
"Did you die because of me?," Solomon gasped out his words at the image, "Am I your son?"
(Chapter 2 forthcoming; Lady Lucille arranged and edited the prayers from the 1928 BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER to suit her own, and this story's, purposes.)
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