The pond

Toby always bawled when his father had to leave. It wasn't that he was a Daddy's boy, he just liked it when all three of them were together.

 Mother knew the routine, "Daddy has to go to work, so we can buy lovely things and go on wonderful holidays. He'll be back later, you know that." His father smiled and waved, "See you later Tobes." But this time, he lingered a little, waiting for his son's response.  Mother whispered in his ear, "Why don't you and I take a row boat on the pond today?" At this his eyes widened and a look of glee flooded his little face, "Bye, bye Daddy," he hollered – happy.

"Goodbye son, take care of Mother today," he replied – resigned.

The pond lay calm and smooth with only the slightest heave. As the row boat swayed away, Toby slipped into a satisfied slumber.

Only when sure her child was safe in sleep did Mother lower her eyes and cry.

Toby woke into a different world. One that contained only his mother and their memories of a great and heroic man. 

Over the years many people asked him to revisit the event. He did so with momentous pride:  "Although only three years old my memory is vivid. I recall the incredible force of my parental love. My Father, standing on the cusp of his death, smiled to hide the horror from me; whilst my Mother did the same with her diverting words.

They didn't embrace, for fear it would expose the truth. For this I will forever feel guilt.

Whilst our boat swayed gently towards salvation, I slept. Thus, I never saw the Mighty Ship Titanic slip below the icy ocean, taking my Father and many more souls with it.

I take comfort that, thanks to my Mother's words, his last image of me was one of pure delight. My Mother always said this meant more to them both than a final embrace."

In memory of all those who perished on the 15th April 1912.