The sun poured through the windows of the small studio where Jack Dawson and Fabrizio Di Rossi lived. It was just three rooms—a bathroom, a kitchen, and a long living area where they both slept. Fabrizio was Italian and had met Jack during his time in Italy seven months before. He worked at Mr. Burn's factory, plucking chickens for very little each week. Jack was an artist and he sat every day in a small park, making charcoal drawings for tourists and people who had taken an interest in his work. Together, they didn't make much money, but enough to live on each week, to provide food and shelter and sometimes the occasional trip to a dance hall.
“Jack, you ‘a were late last night, no?” Fabrizio spoke in his thick Italian accent.
“Yeah. I took a walk. How was the party?” Jack rubbed his eyes in an attempt to remove any sleep before running his fingers through his overly long blond hair.
“Was ‘a good. Maria was asking about you.” Fabrizio smiled, knocking his elbow into Jack's, who could do nothing but smile back. Maria was a dancer at Mr. Burn's bar, where Jack and Fabrizio occasionally visited; she was also a prostitute working at Mademoiselle Satine's, a brothel which proved very popular among the young men who went to Mr. Burn's bar. Maria was around twenty-three years old; she was French, with very long, dark brown hair, big brown eyes, and a large chest. She was very tall and slender and had taken an interest in eighteen-year-old Jack from the moment she saw him.
“Fabri, you know I'm not interested in her.” Jack rolled his eyes. He wasn't interested in any girls. On the odd occasion, he had drawn Maria and a few of the girls at Mademoiselle Satine's in the nude, but nothing would ever come of it.
“She's beautiful, no?”
“She is beautiful, but I am just not interested.” Jack rummaged around in the kitchen for something, anything he could put together for breakfast, but he found nothing.
“Well, I'm going to work, Jack. Ciao.” Fabrizio pulled his hat on before heading out of the door. He worked from eight in the morning until six at night five days a week. Jack, on the other hand, worked the hours he wished in the park. If business was slow, he could pack up for the day. Today, however, seemed a lovely day. The sun shone and Jack felt cheery, as usual. As he walked to the park, his mind fell on Rose, the girl he had met the night before. He hoped she had returned to the school safely, rather than not returned and jumped from the rocks once she had known Jack had disappeared. She had seemed so lonely and fragile, in need of rescuing from the boundaries of society. It seemed so impossible to her to leave her life, but to Jack it was simple. If she had said the word, he would have allowed her to live with him and Fabrizio, maybe even gotten her a job at the chicken factory. It wasn't the perfect life, but it was a start, away from the upper class. Shaking his head, he set up his work for the day, laying out his leather portfolio in front of him, taking out a piece of paper, and beginning to sharpen a piece of charcoal, ready for his first customer. He knew his work was good, but not amazing. The reason he had come to Paris was because it was the art capital of the world and where his inspiration, Monet, lived. But to Jack's disappointment, all the city was now interested in was dottism and cubism, whereas Jack drew from life, from his heart, and he wasn't about to change his style now. So, here he was, just chasing his dream in a small park. The park wasn't very full. It never was. A young couple sat having a picnic and a child chased around a barking dog. Other than that, it was empty, but there was yet time for it to get busy. It was only early morning. As the day went on, the sun beat down heavier on Jack's face and he wiped his brow with a small cloth he kept in his pocket. He wore a navy shirt and gray trousers with suspenders. By the time dinner came, he had made two francs. He felt his stomach rumble heavily, reminding him that he hadn't eaten all day, although he decided to wait before eating anything. A young lady entered the park dressed in an expensive looking day dress and a large yellow and red hat, which shielded her face from the sun. Just by the way the lady walked, she held the attention of everyone in the park, and Jack found it almost impossible for him to take his eyes away from her, although she was coming in his direction and he knew he would have to divert his eyes so he wasn't rudely staring. Picking up a small piece of charcoal, he began to sharpen it with a knife.
“Hello, Mr. Dawson.” A woman's voice sounded. Jack raised his head and his eyes met with...was it?
“Rose? Is that you?” he asked in disbelief. In daylight, her image was so much different. Her hair was pinned up and a huge hat sat on her head. He had never imagined he would see her again, let alone in this part of the city.
“Yes, it is.” She laughed slightly. Immediately, Jack stood, unsure of what to do. He felt like a small boy. From the look of her attire, compared to his, it was obvious they were classes apart. He wiped his sweaty and dirty hands down his pants before offering his hand to shake hers. She held out her gloved hand and slipped it in his, almost in slow motion.
“But I thought you couldn't get out of the prison,” Jack said in both shock and confusion. Rose took a seat on the bench beside Jack, and it was then that he realized that Rose had drawn a lot of attention in the park and now all eyes were on them as passersby whispered to each other.
“Jack, I want to thank you for last night. This morning, I woke up feeling ever so foolish.” Rose lowered her voice. She, too, was noticing the stares. “Cal turned up at school this morning. He is tending to some business in Paris, and while he was out I decided I would get some air, too. My tutor believes me to be attending to business with Cal.”
Nodding his head, Jack took this information in. He could barely see under Rose's hat, but in daylight she was so much more stunning, so much it almost took his breath away. “But what are you doing here, in these parts?”
“I just walked, Jack. I followed my heart and ended up here. It was like God was leading me to you to thank you.” She smiled.
“It's nothing, Rose. I'm just glad you got back safely.” For a moment, they did nothing but gaze at each other. It was surreal how they were now both here, sitting in the same park. Diverting her eyes away from Jack, she noticed that his equipment lay out before them.
“So, are you an artist?” she asked, indicating his stuff.
“Well, well, well, fancy finding you here, Jack!” A French accent sounded, rudely interrupting Jack from his thoughts. Turning, he found Maria sitting next to him. She stood tall, her dark hair pinned up, and she dressed in a laced corset dress with her breasts almost spilling out. She smoked a cigarette and touched Jack's arm, obviously flirting.
“Hey, Maria. How are you?” he asked quietly, not wanting Rose to leave because Maria was here.
“Brilliant. The sun's just lovely.” She smiled, winking a little. “So, are you coming to the bar tonight, Jack?”
“Um…maybe. If I don't feel too tired from the heat today.”
“Nonsense, Jack. Come. It will be fun.” Standing, she tilted her head to one side, smiling a little before biting her lip. “Or are you scared the girls will be there?” she teased, talking about the other girls who Maria danced with, knowing that they all liked Jack and every time he went to the bar, they asked him to dance, and most of them try to get it on with him. But to Maria, he was like a little puppy, and she wished he wasn't so shy. “Don't worry, darling. It will just be me and you.” She winked.
Rose had never felt so uncomfortable and thought about leaving. The girl was so brazen and the way her breasts were showing was so unnatural, but Rose couldn't help but glare at the woman before her and wonder what sort of relationship Jack had with her, because it seemed as though it was intimate.
“See you tonight, Jack.” She waved as she walked away and Jack couldn't help but blush. He knew Maria was slightly full on.
“I'm sorry about that; Maria is a little…well…” Jack did not know what to say. He knew she was a prostitute and erotic dancer, but she was his friend and had been good to him during his time in Paris.
“It's perfectly all right.” Rose smiled. “In fact, I must be heading back now, and it's quite a walk.” Rose stood, but Jack wished she wouldn't go so soon.
“You want me to walk you some of the way back?” Jack offered—anything to spend a little more time with the beauty.
“Oh, no. Thank you. Well, good-bye, Jack.” She nodded to him and began to walk away, leaving Jack wondering if he would ever see her again. Her appearance at the park had been more than a shock to him, but he couldn't live his life wondering if he would see a girl he barely knew again. He would go to the bar that evening.
*****
“Where on earth have you been?” The voice filled Rose with dread. She knew she was a little late, but didn't think Cal would be there just yet. “I have been looking for you everywhere. Your tutor almost called the police.”
“I'm sorry; I took a little walk into town and ran a little late.” Rose smiled, removing her hat to reveal her face. She saw the look on Caledon Hockley's face and inside she felt sickened. He came towards her and gently touched her face, but she flinched at his touch.
“My dear, I have arranged a magnificent feast for us tonight.” He smiled. “Why don't you change and meet me in the dining hall?”
Forcing a smile, Rose nodded. “Of course, Cal.”
“Now, wear something beautiful,” he ordered, leaving the room with a smile on his face. It was times like now that Rose wished she had jumped from the rocks, because she knew what tonight would bring. She hoped dinner would go well and that she would be able to retreat to her room by nine o’clock. Her mind wandered back to the afternoon when she had seen Jack. The fact that he was at the same park as she was headed to seemed surreal, but something seemed to have guided her in the direction of him and she wondered what it was. For now, though, she had to clear her mind and dress for dinner with Cal. She was not even hungry, not in the slightest, but she knew she had to continue her front and dine with him as he wished. After selecting a navy blue dinner dress, Rose called upon her three maids to dress for the occasion; she also selected sapphire jewelry to match. After seeing her reflection in the large oak-framed mirror before she was to meet Cal for dinner, she felt tears prick her eyes. Here she was, faced with herself. She despised her life, she despised herself, and most of all, she despised Caledon Hockley. Taking a deep breath, she felt the tightness of her corset and placed her black-gloved hand over her stomach. She felt as though she was slowly being suffocated.
*****
The whole room seemed to whirl around as Rose closed her eyes for a moment in an attempt to take in the evening’s events. Marriage? She was far too young to even consider taking a husband. But Caledon Hockley stood before her, holding out a large diamond engagement ring in a black velvet box with that sly grin on his face. Shakily, Rose brought her hands to her face.
“Rose, darling, just say yes.” Cal placed his hand on her left arm and a grin spread across his face. “Marry me, Rose. I will make you happy. You will never want for anything.”
Rose felt like bursting out laughing. Want for anything? Was this all about money? But Rose didn't want him or his filthy money. “Cal, I...I'm speechless.”
“It has been a surprise, Sweetpea.” Cal lowered his head and his eyes met Rose's.
“It has. But, Cal, I believe I am too young for marriage.”
Raising his eyebrows, Cal didn't think he had heard correctly. Too young? This wasn't a matter of being too young. Cal knew Rose's family was in financial difficulty, and one way or another, Rose would have to marry him. She had very little choice. Smiling, he closed the box and sat himself in the dining chair. “My dear Rose, you know you have little choice in the matter.” Cal took a sip of the expensive wine. “Your mother is counting on you to save the family name. You know I could change everything, either way.”
“Cal, I...” Rose was stunned; she played with her pearl necklace and felt like pulling them from her neck and throwing them at him in a fit. She didn't care for him or his money.
“So, what will it be, Rose? Would you like to see your mother suffer? For her to become a seamstress and for yourself to live in the gutters like some bohemian?” Cal stood and walked around her. She watched him for a few moments before squeezing her eyes closed and praying for everything to just disappear. She thought of Jack momentarily, of how he lived and how happy he was in his life—and he had next to nothing.
“Of course not. I just think we should marry when school is over, so I can concentrate on my studies here.” Rose improvised her words. All she wanted was for the evening to end. “I will marry you, Cal, when school is over. You have my word.” She smiled, and even leaned to him slightly and kissed his cheek, something she surprised herself with, but she had to keep him sweet. As she pulled away, he appeared smug.
“Very well, but now, Rose, remember I have your word.” Cal spoke, and she knew he had authority. The hate she felt for him was indescribable.
“Of course. Mr. Hockley, tonight has been lovely.” She forced a smile, but inside she faltered. “If you would excuse me, I must retire. I am exhausted from the day's events.”
“Certainly. In two days, I am to return to the States, so maybe before then we could dine together once again.”
“Of course. Good night.” She gently slipped her hand into his and he kissed her gloved hand gently. Just the slightest contact caused her to flinch. Turning to walk away, she felt his eyes on her as she left the room; she speeded up her pace until she reached her room. Once inside, she forgot all that etiquette had taught her and she ripped the pearls from her throat and then her earrings from her ears. She struggled to unhook her dress and she felt like screaming at the top of her lungs for someone to free her from this place. Inside, she knew she was slowly going insane, but she couldn't escape. Once again, she had no money at all. Rummaging around in her small purse, she found some small change and threw it onto her bed. Something caught her eye as it fell from her purse—some paper. Her hands trembling, she read the writing on the paper. Burn's Maisonette, top floor, Court Road. It was Jack's address, which he had given her the evening before. She knew then that this was her way out. She had to leave.