I gave no thought as to where I would go. I just wanted to get out of this house. Silver sat meowing as I threw some clothes into a bag. Beatrice came into the room, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh, Miss Nora, what’s to become of you?”

I stopped what I was doing and hugged her. “Don’t worry about me, Beatrice, I’ll be grand.”

I looked down at Silver, who was rubbing against my leg. “Beatrice,” I said, “would you take care of Silver? Otherwise Sinclair will torture her.”

“I sure will,” said Beatrice, drying her eyes with a big handkerchief. “Now, you run over to next door to where Mr. Frankie works. You tell him Miss Beatrice sent you. Tell him she says he’s to give you a ride in ’is cart into the village.” She gave a quick smile. “Ole Mr. Frankie, he’s got a soft spot for ole Beatrice. He do ’most anything I ask him.”

As if the effort of speaking was too much for her, Beatrice sank down on the bed and began to weep again.

“Will you stay?” I said.

She stopped crying at once. “Stay?” she said. “I’d rather go and work for the Devil.”

A half hour later, I left the Shaw house for the last time. I ignored Sinclair’s taunts as I pushed past him. Good to Beatrice’s word, Mr. Frankie hitched up his horse and wagon and helped me up into it. Tipping his old, crushed hat, he climbed up beside me and we began the slow drive toward the village. I never looked back.

As the old horse plodded along, I was reminded of the ride Delia and I had taken with Da from the cottage to the train station on our way to board the Titanic. What a lifetime ago that seemed.

We were just entering the village when we met a car coming at speed from the opposite direction. I recognized it at once, and asked Frankie to stop. The car came to a stop alongside us, and Ben jumped out.

“Nora!” he cried. “Where are you going? Have you seen Sinclair? He told me he was coming here, and I followed him to make sure he didn’t cause any trouble.”

“He tried to, Ben,” I said. “But then he just sent me on my way. To tell you the truth, I was glad to go. I’m going to New York. I’m not quite sure how, but I’ll find a way.”

Ben looked from me to the cart. “Not in that, you’re not,” he said in astonishment. “Let me drive you.”

I almost refused, but I stuffed down my stubbornness. How else was I to get to New York? I climbed down and thanked Frankie. “Make sure Beatrice is all right,” I said.

He nodded, and drove away.