A LIFE SO CHANGED
Chapter Seventeen
In the wireless room. The sparks gap of the
Marconi instrument as Senior Wireless Operator Jack Phillips, rapidly keys out
a message. Junior Operator Bride looks through the huge stack of outgoing
messages swamping them.
"Look at this one. He wants his private
train to meet him. La dee da," said Bride, as he slaps down the messages.
"We’ll be up all bloody night on this
lot," said Phillips.
Phillips starts to receive an incoming
message from a nearby ship, the Leyland freighter CALIFORNIAN, which jams his
outgoing signal. At such close range, the beeps are deafening.
"Christ! It’s that idiot on the
Californian," said Phillips. Cursing, Phillips furiously keys a rebuke.
CALIFORNIAN
Wireless Operator Cyril Evans pulls his earphone
off his ear as the Titanic’s spark deafens him. He translates the message for
Third Officer Groves.
"Stupid bastard! I try to warn him about
the ice, and he tells me to shut up."
"Now what’s he sending?" asked
Groves.
"No seasickness. Poker business good,
Al. Well, that’s it for me. I’m shutting down."
As Evans wearily switches off his generator,
Groves goes out on deck. Pan off him to reveal the ship is stopped fifty yards
from the edge of a field of pack ice and icebergs stretching as far as the eye
can see.
TITANIC
The bow sweeps under the water, and toward
the foremast and the tiny-cylinder of the crow’s nest, which grows as it pushes
in on lookouts, Fleet and Lee. They are stamping their feet and swinging their
arms, trying to keep warm in the twenty-two knot freezing wind, which vapor of
their breath away behind.
"You can smell ice, you know, when it’s
near," said Fleet.
"Bollocks!"
"Well, I can. All right!"
At the bridge are Second Officer Lightoller
and First Officer Murdoch.
"Did we ever find those binoculars for
the lookouts?" asked Murdoch.
"Haven’t seen them since Southampton.
Well, I am off to my rounds. Cheerio."
On the rear window of the Renault, which is
completely fogged up. Suddenly a hand comes up and slams against the glass for
a moment, making a hand print in the veil of condensation. It is Rose’s.
Inside the car, Jack’s coat is on her head
for comfort. Their faces are flushed and they look at each other wonderingly.
She puts her hand on his face, as if making sure he is real.
She studies him. His eyes: Blue like pools
made of sky. She looked deeply into them. They were shaking in each other arms.
"We’re trembling," she said.
"Don’t worry, we’ll be all right."
Smiling. Then he kisses her softly. She kisses his forehead, taking in the scent
of his hair. Then she lays his head on her breasts, for he was in contented
exhaustion. She could feel his heart beating against hers. They lay together,
silently, resting in the awe of that moment.
How odd, that the love I’d always dreamed of
is in my arms at this moment. Only a few days earlier I had been at the point
of suicide. Now I have all the happiness I’d ever wanted. Funny how life can
change so quickly.
Over the roar of the furnaces, stokers
telling two stewards which way, Jack and Rose went.
"They ran down there," said a
stoker.
"Right," said a steward.
The Stewards move off towards the forward
holds.
Cal comes up to the safe. Parrish comes up
behind him.
"Anything missing?" asked Parrish.
Cal sees a note taped on the safe. It read:
"DAD, LOOK INSIDE. I HAVE A PRESENT FOR YOU." He looks at Parrish,
and then he opens it, and pulls out another note. It read: "DAD, NOW YOU
CAN LOCK US BOTH IN YOUR SAFE. SWEETPEA." He takes out the portfolio, and
opens it. In front, shows the drawing of Rose, and his face clenches with fury.
Parrish, standing behind him, looks over his
shoulder at the drawing. Cal crumbles her note, and then takes the drawing in
both hands as if to rip it in half. He tenses to do it, then looks at the
drawing once more.
"I have a better idea."