After that first night, a flood of memories came thick and fast. I took advantage of Mrs. Shaw’s insistence that I stay in bed. I wanted to be alone while all this was happening. Mrs. Shaw and Beatrice came in and out to make sure I was all right. Teresa, though, was spitting nails. She accused me of playacting.

“I’m on to you, miss,” she said. “Sick indeed. ’Tis lovesick ye are, over that feller Sinclair.” She laughed. “As if he’d give you the time of day!”

I ignored her. The truth was I hadn’t given Sinclair a second thought since these visions had started. I slid down under the covers and went over the new memories in my head. I had remembered who Delia was. She was the fair-haired girl I had seen in my dreams, and I wondered how I knew her. I had visions of my journey to the Titanic; they came like jagged pieces of glass that didn’t fit together now but I knew were part of a whole picture. I saw myself in a horse and cart driving down a rutted lane with green hills on either side, and in a train compartment, where I was talking to a lad and a young girl. The fair-haired girl called Delia was there as well. Was she a friend, I wondered, or a stranger? Then I felt crowds of young people pushing in on me on a dock where an enormous ship loomed above us.

I wondered at times, was I making these images up? Was I going mad? Or was I about to die? They say your life passes in front of you when you’re ready to die. Sweat ran down my neck and chest and I wanted to cry out.

On the third day, Mrs. Shaw came into my room carrying Silver. The cat jumped from her arms and landed beside me on the bed. I was delighted to see her. I looked up at Mrs. Shaw, who was smiling down at me.

“Thank you for bringing her, Mrs. Shaw.”

“You are welcome, dear. I could see how agitated you were becoming. I thought she might help calm you down.”

She was right. Silver snuggled next to me, and the steady rise and fall of her small body as she breathed soothed me. That night I slept for the first time without waking up terrified.