Something about what this strange blonde woman was saying did not quite seem right. He began to slowly shake his head. “No, Mary Margaret Westmoreland. She… we were supposed to meet at a ball, but she didn’t show up. She ran away with one of the house boys. I boarded Titanic swearing never to have anything to do with her again.”
The woman let out a deep sigh and clutched her hair at the roots with both hands. It took her a moment before she let go and turned to face him. “Charlie, I am Mary Margaret. I didn’t meet you at the ball, but I explained everything to you while we were aboard Titanic. I told you why I didn’t go. You understood. We danced together.” She took a step toward him. “You kissed me. We fell in love.”
He was still shaking his head. There was no question that if what she was saying was true, he would remember it. “No, that’s not possible. I will never forgive Mary Margaret Westmoreland.”
This time, her exhale was so audible her entire upper body seemed to vibrate. “Charlie, please? We’ve been over this so many times in the last few days. I am Mary Margaret—Meg. I’m Meg. You do love me. We are getting married.” She dropped her eyes to the floor. “Damn, why do they have to insist on giving him that same stupid medicine.” She looked back up at him. “Every time they give you that medicine, you forget who I am.”
He wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about, although his brain did still feel a bit foggy, as if he had recently taken some sort of medication. He had no way of knowing. He did know, for certain, he would never forgive Mary Margaret Westmoreland for what she had done to him. “I’m sorry, miss, but whatever it is you want, I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you. If it’s money you’re after….”
“Charlie!” Her eyes were pleading with him more than her voice. “I don’t want your money. I want you.” She shook her head. “I know when Jonathan gets here, he will explain all of this to you again, but dammit….”
Before she could complete her sentence, there was a brisk knock at the door, and then it opened without anyone having the opportunity to call out that it was okay for the older gentleman dressed in a white coat to come in. “Aw, Mr. Ashton, you’re awake.”
That seemed to be the greeting of the day, and Charlie said, “Yes, I believe I am.”
He chuckled and scratched the top of his bald head, short tufts of gray hair jutting out around his ears the only evidence that he’d ever had anything at all atop his crown. “I’m Dr. Stephen Hunt. I’ll be taking care of you while you’re here with us.” He looked at Meg. “I’m afraid you’ll need to step out now, miss.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied tartly. She looked at Charlie and shook her head slowly, as if she was exasperated. Returning her attention to the doctor, she continued, “Every time he takes whatever medicine it was they were giving him aboard Carpathia, he awakens having no recollection of anything that happened on the boat. If it is at all possible, will you see if there’s something else he can take instead—if he still needs a sedative at all?”
“A sedative?” Charlie echoed. “Why would I need a sedative?”
“You’ve been through quite the traumatic experience, Mr. Ashton,” the doctor replied. He had Charlie’s paperwork in his hand. He read through a bit and then nodded his head. “Yes, that sort of medication could do that.”
“I don’t want to be sedated,” Charlie said, looking the doctor squarely in the eye.
He forced a smile. “Mr. Ashton, I assume you had some… emotional outbursts while aboard Carpathia. It’s difficult for people to adjust after such intense experiences.”
“Emotional outbursts?” Charlie repeated. Surely, if that had been the case, he would remember.
“It wasn’t that so much as… the voices,” the woman, Meg, as she called herself, explained, looking at Charlie out of the corner of her eye. “He was hearing screams from people in the water, long after everything was over.”
“I’m not hearing anything now, I assure you,” Charlie spoke up, looking at her as if she were a classmate who just told the entire class he’d wet his pants. It didn’t matter that he actually was hearing screams at that very moment. If the doctor knew, he might well lock Charlie up in an asylum.
“I’m glad to hear that you are feeling better,” Dr. Hunt said, smiling at Charlie and then looking at this Meg person again. “It is normal, I assure you,” he replied.
She didn’t look as if she was willing to accept his definition of normal. “Well, forgetting someone you’ve known most of your life isn’t normal,” she muttered. “Dr. Hunt, please do whatever you can to help Charlie, but please don’t give him anything else that might alter his memory.”
The doctor rested his hand on her arm. “If Mr. Ashton is no longer hearing voices, and he feels well, I don’t believe any more of that sort of medication should be in order. Now, if you’ll excuse us, miss, I need to examine him in private.”
“Of course,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”
The words came out of her mouth as if she was asking a question, and Charlie almost felt compelled to answer. While he didn’t know who she was, Jonathan must, and therefore, he assumed he would see her again, so he nodded, and then she walked out the door. He was fairly certain she was wiping tears from her cheeks as she went, though he couldn’t tell for sure. Whoever she was, she was pretty and seemed to care about him; he hated to make her cry.