Chapter 4

Millie

“Well, then, let’s have a look,” the doctor says. The nurse steps in behind us and stands back to observe.

“What’s your name, miss?” he asks as he starts examining me.

“Millie Baker.” It’s odd the way Dr. O’Loughlin seems to avoid touching me, letting the nurse take hold of my head and move my hair out of the way while he examines it. Neither of them have taken my blood pressure or my vitals the way my doctor does when I come in even if it’s just for a check-up..

It’s all so weird. I have this strange sensation that I’m out of place. Maybe it’s just the bump on my head.

“Okay, Miss Baker, tell me how it happened,” he says. “And how are you feeling? Any dizziness?”

I stop for a minute to consider his question. “Nope, no dizziness,” I tell him. “At first, I felt a sharp pain, and my head was throbbing too, but now I’m not noticing that at all.”

He smiles warmly. “Well, I think we have nothing to be too concerned about. There’s a slight bit of bleeding, but nothing to fret over. I’ll have Violet bandage this up, though you don’t have to keep it on long, just until the bleeding stops… perhaps a few hours.”

His tone is friendly, reassuring, and seems more empathetic than any of the doctors I’ve been to recently. Still, it’s really weird that there aren’t any modern instruments in the room. I guess they’re trying to stay authentic to the time period. There’s even a calendar on the wall that says it’s April 10, 1912.

“Do you keep all your digital equipment in the cabinets or something?” I ask.

His smile falters a little. “How do you mean?”

“I’m just saying…. I don’t see any of the modern equipment I usually see at the doctor’s office.” I watch the nurse, Violet, as she takes gauze and some very old-fashioned looking scissors out of a drawer, along with some cotton and a bottle of something.

The doctor tilts his head a little in confusion, but he smiles again. “I assure you, we have the most modern equipment available. Thankfully, we won’t be needing it as I’m quite sure you’ll be just fine.”

The antiseptic scent is strong as Violet applies it with a cotton ball.

“Mr. Stewart said you had family aboard,” the doctor says.

“Yes, my mom and sister,” I say. “Can you find them, please? My mom is Isabelle Baker, and my sister’s name is Allison. If I had my phone, I could just call them, but I left it with my mom.”

He crinkles his brow. “Your mother has a telephone? She must be at home then?”

I shake my head. “No, she’s here on the ship.” What is he talking about?

“Well, then, it wouldn’t be possible to telephone her,” he says, still looking at me like he thinks I’m crazy. “We could send a telegram to anyone back home, but it wouldn’t be possible to telephone her if she’s on the ship.”

“Tele—” I frown. What the hell is wrong with him? Is he pretending that cell phones don’t exist even in an emergency. “Okay, but seriously. No, we can just call her cell phone. I know we’re all pretending like it’s the olden days or whatever, but this is kind of an emergency.”

“Cell phone?” he asks, though he doesn’t wait for my answer and ignores my pleas to just let all this cosplay shit go. “Perhaps I should keep you here to observe a bit longer. I’m confused. Is she on board or at home?”

“She’s on the ship. Our room number is B-49, if that helps.” I’m starting to get a bit irritated, and that antiseptic Violet put on my head is beginning to sting.

“Ah, she’s in first class,” he says. “I suppose that’s what you meant by a phone. Those rooms all have telephones, but only for–.”

“No, I—"

“We can send a steward to your room to fetch her.” He steps forward to examine the bandage on my head. “Excellent work, Violet. Okay, Miss Baker. I’ll see if—”

“Doctor!” A man calls out for him and bursts open the door at the same time.

“One moment.” Dr. O’Loughlin steps over to a man dressed like a steward. He has an older woman leaning against his arm, and she looks like she’s in pain.

“What’s the problem here?” I overhear the doctor ask.

“This woman slipped on the stairs,” he explains.

“Have a seat over here.” The doctor directs the woman to a similar bed to the one I’m situated on. Turning back to the steward, Dr. O’Loughlin says, “I’ll take it from here.” The steward nods and turns to walk away. “Oh, and run up to room B-49 and have Mrs. Baker come see about her daughter here.”

“Yes, sir.” The steward hurries off, and Dr. O’Loughlin turns his attention to his new patient.

Violet looks at me. “You can take a seat out in the outer area. There are chairs out there. I need to go see about this woman.”

“Sure thing,” I say. “Thanks a lot.” She nods at me with a weird look on her face and steps away to join the doctor. I touch my head, which has a bandage wrapped around like a headband. Hopefully, that’s coming off soon. I step out of the main hospital area, but instead of sitting in the chair, which looks comfortable enough, I look around a bit.

“Well, it looks like you’ve sprained your ankle,” the doctor says to the woman he’s working on now.

I can tell the doctor and nurse are busy, so I pull a couple of drawers open and look inside quickly. Nothing inside looks modern at all. What is with this place? Everything is so old-fashioned, but it’s sparkling clean, not rusted or tarnished like I’ve seen in museums. Are these all replicas or something?

Looking back up at the calendar, I can’t help but think about how  ominous the date is. It’s just a few days before the original RMS Titanic sank. I wonder why they’re pretending it’s days before the sinking. Seems kind of morbid to me.

It would have been better to set things up as the actual day.

This is all so strange.

I’ve just pushed a drawer shut when the door opens, and I step away quickly. The same man who helped the woman inside is back, and he’s almost out of breath. He frowns a bit as he looks at me.

“Doctor?” he calls out, and Dr. O’Loughlin—or the doctor in costume as O’Loughlin anyway—turns his attention to him.

“Yes?” he asks.

The steward looks at me and back at him. “There’s no Mrs. Baker in B-49. In fact, the Bishops were quite confused as to why I would think the young lady is staying in their stateroom.”

“What the hell?” I ask. The doctor and the steward both look at me with furrowed brows. “My mom, sister, and I are all staying in that room, B-49. Who the hell are the Bishops?”

The older woman gasps and covers her mouth. Great. So now we’re pretending proper ladies don’t swear. Give me a freaking break.

“Clearly, you’re mistaken,” the steward argues. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten your room number.”

“I’m not—”

“The girl has had a head injury,” Dr. O’Loughlin says quickly. “I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.” He looks at me the same way he did when I talked about my cell phone. “We’ll find your family. Not to worry, dear.”

“Worry about what?” It’s such a relief to hear that deep, familiar voice. Sure, Will acted confused about what I was saying,  too, but somehow I feel hopeful just having him in the room with me. But seconds later, a man and a woman step in behind him. They all look similar, with the same shaped eyes.

“Ah, Mr. Stewart, I’m glad you’ve returned,” the doctor says. “It seems we have a misunderstanding.”

“They’re saying I have the room number wrong,” I explain. “But I know for sure that’s my room. I need to find my mom.”

“Doctor,” the steward says, and everyone turns to him. “I’m afraid it’s more than that. I’ve also checked the manifest. There are no passengers named Isabelle Baker or anyone listed as Miss Allison Baker. They’re simply not on the ship.”

I crinkle my brow. “What?” This is impossible.

“I’ve checked and double checked,” he insists.

The doctor shakes his head. “Dear, you’ve hit your head. Surely, it’s possible that you’re mistaken, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” He’s looking at me the same way he would if a monkey just flew out my ass. I have to agree with him, or who knows what he might do. But I’m sure I’m right, and as soon as I get out of here, I’ll find my family myself.

Will steps forward. “Regardless, we have a woman here who needs assistance finding her place,” he says. “We must take action to assist her. She’s most certainly confused after such a traumatic experience. I’ll help her locate her family.”

“Will—” The woman behind him frowns and glares at me like I’m an insect crawling on her toast.

He waves her off and continues speaking to the doctor. “The bandage on her head—is this something that needs to be changed regularly?”

Dr. O’Loughlin shakes his head. “No. She can take that off as soon as the bleeding stops. It’s not a significant wound, and it didn’t require any stitches.”

“Then she’s safe to leave your office and find her family herself, with my assistance of course?” he asks.

“Yes… at least, physically she’s all right,” Dr. O’Loughlin confirms. “Though I’m concerned with these misunderstandings—”

“There are no misunderstandings,” I say firmly. “Yeah, I hit my head, but I’m fine. I’m one hundred percent positive that my family is staying in room B-49.” I just don’t understand how I could be wrong about that. We spent so much time before we left researching the room on the original Titanic.

A shocking realization hits me, and I feel the color draining from my face. The people who stayed in that room on the original Titanic were named Bishop…. What the fu–

“We’ll sort this out, Millie,” Will assures me. He turns back to the doctor. “I’ll take responsibility for her. She can stay in my sister’s room if need be.”

“Will—” The woman, his sister, I guess,  speaks up again, and she still doesn’t look happy.

“I do suggest you get her a proper gown,” the doctor says. He looks at me. “If you have any feelings of dizziness or imbalance, come back here immediately.”

I nod. “Sure thing.”

Will’s sister and the other man pull him aside, and I can hear bits and pieces of their whispering argument. It’s pretty clear that’s what it is, especially by the look on his sister’s face.

“No other place to go….”

“Not your responsibility, Will….”

I can’t hear much more of their convo, but they don’t seem particularly happy to help me out. They are right–I’m not Will’s responsibility, but I would love to have his help. I sure the hell don’t want to go parading around in this disgusting swimsuit any longer than I have to. Maybe his sister has some jeans and a T-shirt I can borrow.

Finally, Will turns around. “Don’t worry,” he tells me. “We’ll get you something proper to wear, and you can stay in my sister’s cabin, if we are unable to locate your mother.” He looks at the doctor. “We’ll take it from here.”

“Good luck, dear,” the doctor tells me.

It seems like I’m going to need it. I leave with them, and we head up a couple of flights of stairs and down a long hallway.

“This is my sister, Agatha.” She nods but doesn’t even turn to look at me as we continue on our way. “And this is my brother, Edward Stewart.”

“Pleasure,” Edward says, and I get the feeling he’s happier to meet me than his sister.

“Nice to meet you both,” I say.

We pass a few people along the way, and some of them give me a few stares. Of course, they’re all wearing Edwardian clothes.  I don’t know what’s wrong with all these people.

Finally, we reach what must be their rooms.

“Come inside quickly,” Agatha says. “We need to get you into proper attire.”

I look up at Will hopelessly as his sister nods toward the door. I’d much rather go into Will’s room, but I guess I don’t have a choice.

Maybe I am confused. But how can that be? With no other options, I go inside, and she closes the door behind us.

I hope I don’t regret this.