‘Em, you looked like a puppy who’d been kicked. But think of it this way: you wouldn’t have come this far without all those other people you mentioned. It’s turning out to be a team effort, right?’
She nods.
‘Well, I think the flowers on theTitanicwere the same– different people doing their bit. And maybe there wasn’t one maestro, one top dog, but that doesn’t mean the efforts of the people who helped aren’t worth celebrating, from the Bealings to a few florists of sorts on board. All those small contributions matter.’
Emma imagines all the people who have helped her meeting up. She’d like to put a big table in her garden near the apple trees and cook lunch for them all. She would serve chilled red wine and lamb or maybe paella, something her father would have liked.
Alistair calls Jan over. ‘So, Jan, we’re going to need all your skill– we have a challenge for you. We need a cocktail that they would have drunk on theTitanic…’
A few minutes later, he and Emma are holding two cut-glass tumblers. They toast The Florist (or more likely Florists) and sip their Manhattans.
While they are finishing these cocktails, Emma reaches into her bag for her phone. She opens up the photos and holds the image she has been obsessing over out for Alistair to see.
‘I want to ask you about her.’
‘Oh, I know her,’ Alistair says slowly, smiling at the serious young face staring up at him.
‘The thing is, I keep coming back to her. I know she can’t be The Florist on board because she was The Nurse, but—’
Alistair grins. ‘No, she wasn’t.’
‘But…’ Emma frowns, pointing to the cross on the starched white apron. ‘What about the nurse’s uniform?’
‘That’s a First World War uniform,’ says the First World War historian, confidently. ‘When she was on theTitanicin 1912, she was a common or garden stewardess– or not so common as it turned out. You know her name, right?’
‘Violet.’
‘Yep,’ Alistair says, ‘This here is Violet Jessop. Famous to usTitanicnuts because she survived three collisions on White Star liners– theOlympic, theTitanicand theBritannic.’
‘Wow, I didn’t realise it was all three,’ Emma queries.
Alistair nods, ‘She nearly died when theBritannicwent down. It was used as a hospital ship during the First World War and hit a mine. This is when this photo would have been taken. Violet was in the water for some time and she couldn’t swim. Can’t quite remember how she made it.’ Alistair shakes his head. ‘You’d think by the end no one would have sailed with her.’
‘She must have been very lucky– or unlucky, I suppose, thinking about it a different way.’ Emma frowns. ‘Why had I got it into my head that she was a nurse on theTitanic?’
‘That’s cos of the photograph. They always use it on any article to do with theTitanic, but it was taken a few years later.’
Emma stares at the screen. Violet Jessop– a stewardess whobecamea nurse. She feels the old, tugging undertow of recognition, and a new thought strikes her: she wonders if Violet Jessop liked flowers.
‘Out with it,’ Alistair demands, staring at her. ‘What’s Violet got to do with it all?’
‘It’s just a feeling. I know it sounds stupid, but when I saw her I thought I recognised her.’ She is blushing now. ‘I felt a connection– something to do with my family. I just can’t place it.’
He is laughing. ‘A long-lost relative?’
She wants to say,Yes. Maybe, but feels it would sound stupid.
‘Do you know if you have any relations who were involved with theTitanic?’ he asks.
‘I’ve been looking into my family tree– nothing on my mother’s side and my dad’s family are Spanish so that’s harder going. But nothing so far.’
Alistair grins at her. ‘You want Violet Jessop to be your florist, don’t you?’
Emma’s mind is racing. She has been thinking of her research as two parallel lines: The Florist and The Nurse; but now the two strands twist. An image of a DNA helix forms in her mind, two parallel lines close together and spinning in unison, and she says, on instinct, ‘Of course I do’, and laughs, thinking how unscientific she is being.
Alistair takes pity on her. ‘Look, I could have a dig into her past if you like– you’ve got me hooked now, too. Everyone just talks about the fact she was on all three ships; I don’t know how much is written about her work and if she knew anything about flowers. But at least her name’s gotta be a good sign. Think about it– her parents probably liked flowers, if they called her Violet, so maybe they passed that onto her.’ He leans forward suddenly. ‘Hey, Em, are you crying? Violet was saved– she was okay. She survived. Oh, Em, please don’t. You’ll start me off.’
She smiles at him through her tears. ‘I’m not really crying,’ she says, half laughing and half crying.
