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“Thomas?” Lady Alverton looked up from her seat on the sofa.

She hadn’t moved since Mikey had left. There was really no need to chase after him, he was already forgetting his own memories and quicker than she thought too. Now her husband had come back to her, he was taking control over his young host; soon, there would be nothing left of him.

“Catherine,” Alverton shook his head, “what you’re doing is wrong.”
“What I’m doing is bringing us back together, how can that be wrong?”
Alverton took a seat next to his wife on the sofa.
“My dear, tonight, the ship will founder and sink. Can you really justify killing this boy just to have a few more hours with me?”
“No! No, Thomas, you don’t understand,” she cried taking his hands, “this is another chance for us, not just a few more hours. You can get into a lifeboat, you can save yourself.”
Alverton shook his head.
“I can’t go before the other men.”
“Don’t be such a fool, Thomas!” she cried. “There were other men in the lifeboats. Lots of men. I need you, Thomas! Please, I can’t lose you again!”
Alverton looked thoughtful for a few moments.
“His name is Mikey. He plays music with his brother and friends. They’re worried about him.”
“Don’t! I don’t want to hear it!”
“How do you think they’ll feel when they realise he’s dead?”
“I know exactly how they’ll feel!” Catherine snapped bitterly. “I mourned you for a year. Each remembrance hurting just that little bit more. Our anniversary, your birthday, Christmas, my birthday and finally this night. And then what? Then I had to do it all again! I had been strong for a year and all my energy was gone. I couldn’t see how I could do it again and again for the rest of my life.”
“So you took your life?”
“If you weren’t in it, it was no life at all,” she replied, her voice cracking as the weight of her emotions caught in her throat.
“So,” Alverton sighed, “you have planned this, what is your intention?”
“It’s very simple,” she nodded, “you get into a lifeboat with me tonight and we live out the rest of our lives together.”
Alveron smiled.
“I can’t do that, but more than that, I can’t let you do this.”
“You can’t let me do what?”
“You know that for me to survive, this boy’s spirit will have to leave its body?”
Catherine looked down again and nodded.
“My dearest Catherine, you know that murder is a sin, don’t you?”
Tears dropped from her eyes, dampening the sofa cushions.
“I didn’t think, I didn’t want to, I just want to be with you.”
Alverton leaned in and raising her chin planted his lips softly on hers for a few precious moments.
“I can’t go through with this, for your sake. You understand, don’t you?”
Catherine stared up at her husband and began to notice physical changes in his appearance. Slowly at first. His grey hair began to darken, the circles beneath his eyes began to lighten and smooth out. She watched with her heart breaking as her husband’s features changed from that of an old man, to how he had looked when he was younger. She stared with tears standing in her eyes as his cheeks filled out and the wrinkles flatten to reveal perfectly smooth skin – a few minor changes and within moments, it was once again Mikey sitting beside her. Her husband was gone; she had lost him again. She stared harshly as Mikey became suddenly aware. He had heard the conversation and how upset she had become and clearly still was.
He knew it wasn’t a good time to say anything to her, but he was running out of time. It was already after four in the afternoon, the ship would sink that night and he had no idea how to return home.

“How do I get home?” he asked quietly.
“You don’t!” she snapped unhappily, raising the handkerchief to her eyes once more.

*

The hairs on the back of Frank’s neck prickled. It was an odd sensation that he had felt numerous times whilst in the house. He had put it down to nerves and thought little more of it but now the sensation was growing and he visibly trembled.

“Are you okay, Frank?” Bob asked as he looked over at the guitarist.
Frank looked up and gasped as he saw a figure standing in the corner of the room. The others turned their eyes in the direction of Frank’s disbelieving stare but saw nothing.
“What?” Gerard queried. “What is it?”
“C..can’t you see him?” Frank replied unable to tear his eyes away.
“Who?” asked Ray, glancing quickly between the corner and Frank.
“Your friend should be returning to you soon,” the ghost of Lord Alverton reassured the guitarist. “I’m truly sorry for what has happened.”
“Where is he?” Frank asked.
“Who?” Gerard asked only to be shushed and waved to be silent by Frank.
“I’m afraid my wife was a little overcome. You see, it’s my birthday today.”
“Mine too!” Frank replied eagerly.
“Yes, but your celebrations… there hasn’t been laughter in this house for a very long time. My darling wife called me back when she saw your friend, he looks so like me when I was his age, it’s quite unnerving.”
“Where is he?” Frank asked again.
“He’s with my wife for the moment.”
“Where!”
“He’s aboard the Titanic…”
“He’s what!”
“Frank!” Bob called. “Who are you talking to?”
“Shh!” Frank replied curtly. “When will he be back?”
“I’m sure it’ll be very soon. We’ve talked, Catherine and I, and reached an understanding. I’ve told her that I want her to return him to you and said my goodbyes.”
“Well, what if she won’t do it?” Frank asked surprised by his certainty.
“She is my wife, she will do as I ask,” Alverton replied equally surprised to be asked the question.
“It doesn’t work like that!” Frank replied with alarm in his tone. “Women don’t just do what they’re told, they have minds of their own!”
This statement seemed to surprise Alverton more than anything, but he was from an altogether different time.
“She will do as I ask.”
“But how do you know?” Frank asked, his certainty over Mikey’s safe return draining away with each second.
Alverton thought for a moment.
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Oh, and she’s so keen on the right thing?” Frank snapped. “Just like when she took him?”
“There’s nothing more I can do.”
“Wait!” Frank cried desperately as the ghost faded before his eyes. “I don’t believe it, I just don’t believe it!”
“What!” Gerard yelled, turning him around.
Frank didn’t know where to begin. It all sounded so bizarre and implausible.
“Who were you talking to? Where’s Mikey.”
Frank’s brow furrowed as he prepared to tell them something he knew full well they wouldn’t believe. Hell, he barely believed it himself.
“Mikey’s on the Titanic.”

*

“What do you mean ‘I don’t’?” Mikey got to his feet, pulling her up with him.
“Let go of me!” she cried. Despite what she had done, she was still surprised by his reaction.
“Only if you do the same!”
“What do you mean?”
“You know damn well what I mean!”
Mikey was interrupted by an urgent knocking on the door.
“Send me back home!” Mikey begged. “I’m no use to you now.”
As the knocking grew louder, Mikey grew more agitated.
“Send me back!”
“Thomas will return, I know he will, he won’t leave me again.”
“He’s gone! You know he’s gone. Are you blaming me? Do you want me to die here too?”
“If you hadn’t fought him, he’d still be here now! You as good as killed him! It’s all your fault!”
“Lady Alverton!” The voice called from outside. “Are you all right?”
“No!” she screamed. “Please help!”
“What!” Mikey stood back away from her. “What are you doing?”
Mikey heard the key in the lock and panicked. Looking around the room and seeing no other way out, his eyes fell once again on Lady Alverton.
“Don’t do this!”
The door burst open and three crewmen and an officer raced in. Immediately, two of the men seized Mikey’s arms while the officer addressed Lady Alverton.
“Lady Alverton, perhaps you should sit, shall I fetch the doctor? Lord Alverton?”
“He killed him!” she cried pointing at Mikey.
“That’s not true!” Mikey cried desperately as he struggled violently in the four-armed grip. He had almost freed one arm when a heavy blow to his abdomen sent all the air rushing from his lungs and he sagged in their grip.
What could he say? Alverton was already dead? She had brought him here from the twenty first century? He would have been locked up immediately as a mad man; they’d have thrown away the key!
“Take him to the brig.” The officer ordered with a stern expression before turning to comfort the distressed Lady Alverton.
“Catherine!” Mikey called as he was dragged away, hoping it would strike a chord with her. “This is wrong, you know it! Please!”
She turned away without a word as he was pulled through the door and taken below decks.
The luxurious trappings of first class gave way to the much more modest appearance of second class. As they proceeded further into the depths of the ship, Mikey noticed the stark furnishings of the steerage class and crew quarters were in harsh contrast to the plush comfort of the Alverton’s suite on B Deck. Finally, he saw his new accommodation – the brig. Pushed inside the eight foot square cell, Mikey gripped the bars pleading to be released and to be allowed to speak with her again, all to no avail. He watched hopelessly as the crewmen walked away and returned to their duties. He checked his watch again. It was five forty five; he had maybe six hours to live.