Of That Day and Hour: A psychological thriller (11 page)

“Thank you.” Jeff’s no idea
or concept of where he is. He becomes aware of a man who’s standing by his
side, speaking loudly over the chaos, with panic in his voice.

“I had a premonition that my
daughter was left on the dock in Southampton. Crying that she’d had a dream,
and wouldn’t see her father again, because of this voyage.”

“Let’s not get carried away
sir.” Jeff can see the pride of the valet as he states. “We’ll be back on full
steam in no time.”

“Voyage?” This doesn’t
compute or make any sense to Jeff.

“Yes sir. You have hit your
head hard, haven’t you? You’re aboard
Titanic
, sir.”

No sooner said and Jeff
finds himself back in the toilet cubicle, staring at a piece of tissue in his
hand. Closing the door and sitting down, he holds his shaking hands out in
front of him.

“What the fuck’s going on?”

Meanwhile Eve’s beginning to
worry; Jeff’s taking a long time. Then she spots him.

“At last.”

 
Jeff walks into the library. His walk is not
his usual confident stride. Eve looks for recognition from him; she receives no
smile, just a vacant look as he sits back down.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve just had another
anomalous experience.”

“What happened?” Eve was
right, something was wrong!

“I’m not sure. It was so
real, as real as I’m talking to you now.” He looks exhausted.

“What was?”

“Eve, please.” She waits.
“Would you find some books on the
Titanic
?”

“The
Titanic
?” Now
she’s concerned. Is he really losing it?

“Please, it’s just a hunch.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry about me.”
He rubs her shoulder. “I’ll explain later.”

Although concerned for his
welfare. Eve as requested finds the maritime history section. Ten minutes
later, she returns with a handful of books, and apprehension.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better, thank you.” Jeff has
physically shaken his experience off. “It’s amazing what tricks the mind can
play.”

“What are we looking for?”

“Reports of any premonitions
before the disaster.”

Scanning the records and
books for any premonitions feels fruitless; that is, until they find them. One
of the most interesting is a publication by Morgan Robertson:
Futility
,
often referred to as the
Wreck of the Titan
.

“Robertson claimed he was
psychic and foresaw the impending doom. He wrote his book nine years before the
Titanic
went down.”

“And the similarities?”

“Uncanny. Both ships had
similar names, were British and sailed in April. They had similar length,
displacement, capacity and speed. Both had three propellers; both hit an
iceberg on the starboard side, and had insufficient lifeboats with massive loss
of life.”

“Interesting but still
coincidental. Anything else?”

“It appears that there were
a number of people who did confirm passage and received tickets; however they
didn’t sail. But it was only after the event, did they report that they had
received premonitions.”

“It’s always after the
event. Do we have any photographs of the crew?”

“Yes.”

Jeff scans through the
monochrome photographs; one catches his eye. The staff are lined up on the
dockside like an old school photo, with
Titanic
’s hull as the
photographer’s backdrop.

“It’s hard to comprehend
they’re all gone now.”

“It is.” Old photographs
fascinate Eve. An era, and a world full of people, gone.

 
Jeff’s eyes fall on the valet. The bathroom
attendant smiles out of the photograph, wearing the same uniform. Jeff lets out
a gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

He sits in silence and
shakes his head for a moment. Bringing his hands up, he rests them under his
chin, and pauses to collect his thoughts before answering Eve.

“I’ve seen that man.”

“What?” He’s not making any
sense.

“I spoke to him in the
toilets.”

“The toilets?” Eve shakes
her head.

“He was the bathroom valet
on board the
Titanic
.”

“Over a hundred years ago,
Jeff.”

“I know, I don’t believe it
myself.” Jeff looks up from the photograph. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

“Tell me now.”

“Later. We have limited
time.”

“Okay, but we’re going to
have a serious discussion later.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He dismisses
the event. “Let’s turn our attention to all the major disasters of the
twentieth century, and see what we can unearth.”

Before long, they are faced
with numerous examples of premonitions. People who didn’t turn up at work, at a
location, or take a journey due to dreams or feelings of impending doom.
Foreseeing a death in the family, winning the lottery or meeting a long term
partner. Even claims of knowing when to move in or bail out of the financial
markets. Many of these hunches or visions had saved lives, or had become a
chilling task for those who had experienced these forebodings of death; the
unpleasant task of trying to warn others.

“There’s scientific data
that exposes up to a six hundred percent cancellation rate for train journeys,
on the days accidents occurred.”

“That’s interesting. I won't
dispute scientific data. Although I have to concede; even with this knowledge I
haven’t a clue what to do with it. We’re still no further on.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Shall we call it a day?”

“Yeah, let’s go. I can’t
wait to hear about your experience!”

Back at the ranch, Eve
listens to Jeff as he wrestles with the world. His belief systems are slowly
being unraveled by the very force he doesn’t believe in, fate. Out on the porch
Jeff recounts his earlier experience of the day, and confides his fear of
madness. Eve, in his arms, listens to him whilst looking out to the stars
above.

“I need to see Casey in the
morning.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t, but I’m sure
there’ll be something in his.”

Jeff feels no fear nor
anxiety; nor his tremble as he waits for the steel door to be pulled back. He
positively can’t wait for it to open, to get back inside the room, with Casey,
and the answers that lie within. Casey smiles as the door opens and Jeff walks
in.

“Back so soon?”

“Yes. It’s a pleasure to see
you too.”

“I’m sure it is.” Casey
flashes a wide smile. “Did your phone arrive?”

“My phone?”

“The one you left at my
mother's house. Andre mailed it to you.”

“I did,” Jeff admits. He'd
sent Andre money for the postage by return mail.

 
“How were things in Colorado?” Casey
continues.

“Colorado?”

“The state university.”

“Keeping tabs on me?” Jeff
isn’t surprised.

“There’s only one answer at
the foot of those hills. Although books and libraries are always a
predetermined conclusion, aren’t they?”

“So I’m supposed to ask you
how you know this.”

“Of course.”

“Okay, spill the beans.”

“It’s in the future before
the event, and in the past after.”

“You still haven’t answered
my question.” He knows Casey’s holding back.

“I gave you a clue.”

“Okay. How did you know
about the date you carved in the beam at your mothers? Why did you ask
personally for me to interview you?” Jeff gives Casey that 'don’t fuck with me'
look. “I need you to give me something to work with, otherwise these interviews
become meaningless.”

“Like a ship, you’re being
steered to port.” Casey leans forward. “I’m simply part of the crew. Thankfully
for us both; we do not sail aboard the
Titanic
.”

“You know don’t you?” Jeff
sits back, his fingers irately tapping on the desk.

“I do.”

“Why did it happen?”

“Like a buoy out at sea,
it’s there only to help you navigate.”

“Why do you shroud yourself
in riddles?”

“I’m being covert.”

“Covert?”

“There’s always an eye in
the sky.”

“Ah I see. Then how do you
propose to help me? After all this is about me, isn’t it?”

“Of course. But you have a
poor memory, and one that only works backwards.”

“Backwards?” Jeff double
blinks in consternation. “How can I remember what I haven’t experienced?”

“The real question is do you
wish to remember? Or would that take all the fun out of life? Every birthday,
meeting, job interview, argument or kiss. And perhaps what we fear the most:
the time of our own demise. It’s logical for the mind to protect its host.”

“You’re enjoying this far
too much.”

“What else have I to do? But
you’re correct, I do enjoy our meetings. You’re teetering on the edge of the
burrow, and yet you’re afraid to jump.”

“Into?”

“The spirit of adventure.
Without it we would all stay at home, and be that bit safer.”

“And the wheels wouldn’t
turn.”

“Precisely. They may already
be assembling the cogs that make up my intentions.”

“Who?” Jeff’s curious, who
is 'they'?

“The government.”

“You are their guest.” In a
strange way, Jeff’s relieved about this.

“Yes. I do find myself in
that unfortunate predicament. If I were you, I would destroy the recording of
this interview.” Casey’s voice shows concern. “Otherwise you may not be
permitted to see me again.”

“I see.” With raised
eyebrows. “Any other advice?”

“Reach out to a friend, but
only if you can swallow your pride?”

“Marcus.” Casey’s hit a sore
spot.

“Yes, quite the devil isn’t
he?”

“Why him?”

“He holds many keys.” Like
the preacher his palms stretch out. “All you have to do is knock for his door
to open.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Then your journey ends.
There’s nothing else to be found here until your return, but you alone will have
to search for me.”

“Search for you?”

“You’ll understand when the
time comes.”

“Will I? We’ll see.” The
interview's over; he’ll get nothing else out of Casey today. “Thank you for
your time, Casey.”

“It appears to be all I have
left.”

Jeff stands and walks out of
the interview room and into the observation room. On the monitor the guard is
leading Casey back to his cell.

“Did you get that?”

“Yeah, every word.”

“Do you think we should?”

“What?”

“Delete the recording?”

“Are you insane? Christ,
Jeff, I would lose my job!”

“But he said.”

“He said nothing.” Eve can’t
believe she’s even hearing this. “He’s a convicted criminal and we don’t take
orders from him!”

“Did I hear someone mention
taking orders?”

Mr. White unaccompanied and
unnoticed has walked into the room. Neither of them know just how long he’s
been standing here.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.” This man
projects authority. “How are you both today?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“And our Mr. Jones?”

“He’s pleasant enough, and
is cooperating in a fashion.”

“Quite the manipulator isn’t
he?” His questions probe like tentacles.

“He is.”

“Has he mentioned me?”

“Not by name.”

“What did he say?”

“He implies your presence,
and that the interviews are recorded.”

“Have you acknowledged my
presence?”

“No.”

“Keep it that way. He will
try to exploit you in every manner. Remember that he’s a convicted killer;
don’t let him get under your skin, Dr. Davies. His pleasure will be the
dismantling of your mind piece by piece.”

“I’m aware of the dangers.”
White’s words feel more like a threat than concern for his well being.

“Excellent. Oh, and make
full use of your partner, she is, after all, a psychiatrist.”

“Yes sir.”

“That will be all.”

Mr. White walks out of the
room, leaving them both startled by his unannounced visit.