A SIMPLE KIND OF LIFE
Chapter Two

April 10, 1912

The chugging of the train and the movements made Rose feel sick. Her stomach was already churning.

She had awakened at six after sleeping for only five hours. Sleep hadn’t come to her very well the night before.

The train to Southampton took four hours and she felt as though she had been chugging on the train for days.

Rose was an impatient girl. She always had been. She hated sitting around when she could be doing something.

Rose would be traveling first class on the Titanic. She had been given a larger suite due to another family canceling sailing at the last minute. A chauffeur would collect her from the train station to take her to the docks, where she would board the great ship.

The car journey to the docks would take less than a half hour, which gave Rose enough time to gather herself together. She had only two suitcases with her and had just over eight thousand dollars. She had spent a large amount of the money she took from Cal on hotels, new clothing and, of course, the ticket aboard. She was carrying all of her belongings with her. She felt as if she was a drifter and she had to admit it felt as though she had always been running.

The Renault pulled into the docks at around 11:30. There were people everywhere, but compared to the huge wonder which was the Titanic, they seemed like dots. Some were passengers, some were relatives, others were just admirers. Their were women, children, and men of all classes, ages, and nationalities.

The great lady which was the Titanic sat in the harbor in all of her pride and glory. Visually, she was spectacular. The gazes which fell upon her were of pure awe. The seamen were tiny creatures in comparison to the great ship.

While she was obviously nervous about traveling alone, she was also slightly excited about what was to come. Yet she knew that these few days at sea would be her only chance to be able to do what she wanted, for soon enough she would be back in the confines of society with her mother back in Philadelphia. Rose knew how much her mother wanted her to marry Cal to save their family name, but Rose would have to put herself first after what had happened in Paris.

Her future was unwritten now. Since she had been engaged to Cal, her life had been planned out for her. Every day would have been a long, drawn out ritual of parties, social gatherings, and playing the perfect wife. No doubt she would have given birth to Cal’s babies, the heirs to the steel tycoon. That role would have had her children splashed all over the front pages of local newspapers, and although Rose was not in the least maternal, she did not want that to happen to her children.

“May I help you with your bags, ma’am?” the chauffeur asked.

“Yes. Just remove them from the trunk. I think I will manage.” Rose smiled a little, not taking her attention away from the ship.

The chauffeur ran around the back of the car, removed her two suitcases, and set them on the ground. He opened the car door and held out his hand to Rose. She took it and stepped from the car gracefully before glancing up at the ship properly for the first time.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” The chauffeur laughed and gazed up at the ship, too. “She’s a British ship through and through.”

Rose smiled and proceeded to pick up her suitcases. She found them to be a little heavy, so the chauffeur took one from her.

“Thank you--” Rose halted. She didn’t know his name.

“I’m Bert Groves of London, ma’am.” He held out his hand and she shook it gracefully. “Well, you’re not like the rest of the posh people ‘round here, milady. They won’t touch me with an iron rod,” Bert pointed out. “Where you headed?”

“New York. I toured Europe alone.” Rose didn’t want to cause too much of a stir.

“Oh, right.” Bert nodded a little. “I’ll carry this to the gangplank. Then can you manage?”

Rose nodded and proceeded to the gangplank. Hundreds of people were gathered there, either passengers or just admirers of the ship as they waited to see history go down, and they would.

The atmosphere was amazing. Everyone was in high spirits. Once Rose and Bert reached the gangplank, he placed the suitcase on the ground, where a steward saw Rose struggling and rushed to grab her suitcases.

“Thank you.” Rose smiled at the steward. She did not want to cause such a fuss, but she was not used to carrying anything, really.

“Have a safe trip, ma’am.” Bert tipped his hat. Rose reached into her purse, pulled out five pounds, and thrust it into his hands. His eyes lit up. He had never had such a tip in all the years he had done this. “You are most kind, ma’am.” Bert held out his hand and Rose shook it once again.

“Thank you for the help, Mr. Groves. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

With that, Bert disappeared into the ever-growing sea of people.

Taking a deep breath, Rose took a few steps onto the gangplank, leaving solid ground and embarking on a journey which would no doubt change her life forever.

Once aboard, Rose was led to her stateroom by the steward, who was still carrying her suitcases. The interior of the Titanic certainly was marvelous. She wove through people of first class, who were exchanging gossip and compliments as most of these narrow-minded people did.

Some of the nearby passengers smiled warmly at Rose and nodded hello. Others had simply glanced and then glanced away. Some were probably even gossiping about her, wondering what a young lady like Rose was doing traveling alone.

Upon reaching her suite, Rose’s initial reaction was of shock. The suite was far too large for her alone and could have been easily occupied by a family of four.

She had taken the suite last minute when businessman JP Morgan and his family had decided against sailing.

This suite was the so-called Millionaire’s Suite. It’s décor was Empire style, of dark oak wood. It comprised three bedrooms, a bathroom, a wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. In addition, there was a private fifty-foot promenade deck outside.

Rose tipped the steward before removing her large purple hat and placing it on the divan. She took in her surroundings, the stateroom which she would occupy for the next few days or so. The journey certainly would be eventful.

The room needs a little color, Rose thought. She had left her new Degas and Monet paintings in Paris with Cal. It was only now that she wished she had taken them with her, even though she knew it wouldn’t have been feasible.

A room service waiter knocked at the door. When Rose answered, he poured champagne into a tulip-shaped glass of orange juice and handed the Bucks Fizz to her.

She smiled graciously and thanked him.

“You should come take the air on deck, miss. We will be setting sail in a few minutes and most passengers are gathered up on deck to say good-bye,” the room steward stated.

“No, thank you.” Rose closed the door. She had no intention of going up on deck to be squished in with thousands of other people she didn’t know to wave to people she didn’t know.

The bedroom which Rose had decided to occupy was the largest. It contained a Queen Anne bed, a desk, and a chair with a small lamp resting bedside it on an end table.

At midday, the Titanic set sail for Cherbourg, France. Rose had thought about taking the air on deck to see the Titanic set sail, but instead she had decided to catch up on her reading. The day had seemed long and somewhat boring. Despite usually being the adventurous type, Rose sat alone in her room. She felt unusually melancholy and couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was the fact that she would be heading home to her mother. She did love her mother, but she didn’t like the life she had with her. Society was a difficult place to be born into. One either loved it or hated it. While Rose liked the life she led, the pretty dresses and expensive jewelry, she hated the unhappiness which came with it. Could it ever be possible to have the life she dreamed of? To have a man who loved her with all his heart and money not be needed to prove it?

At late dusk, the Titanic sailed into Cherbourg Harbor to pick up more passengers. At around six, a steward reminded Rose that dinner would be served in the dining saloon at seven.

What did she have to lose? Rose was feeling a little hungry and was eager to see more of the ship, although the gossips from earlier would most certainly be dining tonight.

Out of the little belongings Rose now owned, she managed to select a dress suitable for dinner. She herself had been to these sort of dinners before on board the Mauretania. It was basically an excuse for women to show off their finest clothes and jewelry to other passengers they called friends.

The people were so narrow-minded. All they seemed to care about was who dressed the finest, who owned the most land, who married the richest man.

There wasn’t much to dining with them. A person just had to have money to look good. If they didn’t have money, society looked at them with contempt.

Rose dressed herself in a beige gown and a black belt with a large, single red rose at the waist. Her long gloves were black, as were her shoes. Her hair was pinned up with some struggle, as Rose herself had barely ever styled her own hair.

As Rose entered the first class reception area on B-Deck, she noticed a few prominent passengers. A broad-shouldered woman in an enormous feathered hat came up the gangway, carrying a suitcase in each hand, a spindly porter running to catch up with her to take the bags.

“Well, I wasn’t about to wait all day for you, sonny. Take the rest, if you think you can manage,” she ordered, out of breath.

Rose recognized the woman as Margaret Brown. Her husband had struck gold somewhere out west and she was known as new money.

Rose nodded a small hello to the woman and proceeded to the dining saloon. She reached the upper landing on A-Deck and her breath was taken away by the splendor which spread out before her. Overhead was a huge glass dome with a chandelier at its center.

She reached the Grand Staircase and descended the stairs wearily. This was like heaven. The women were in their floor-length gowns with elaborate hairstyles and had donned their finest jewelry before going to dinner on the arms of their gentlemen.

The men in their evening tuxedos were standing with one hand on their smalls of their backs, making small talk.

Rose felt out of place at times like this. She felt as though she were an outsider spying on this world of elaborateness. She also felt underdressed compared to some of the women here, who seemed to be drenched in diamonds.

As she entered the reception room on B-Deck, Rose spotted Madeleine Astor. She was around Rose’s age and was in a delicate condition. Madeleine had tried her best to hide it, but now she was so far along that it was obvious. She was dressed delicately in a floor length gown and was on the arm of her husband, the richest man on the ship, John Jacob Astor.

Madeleine and Rose had been introduced at some parties back in New York some years ago and together they had dined in Paris and Egypt.

“Hello, Mr. Astor, Madeleine.” Rose nodded and held out her hand to Mr. Astor. He took it and gently kissed it. Madeleine, too, delicately held out her hand. Rose shook it.

“Hello, Miss DeWitt Bukater. How are you enjoying this magnificent ship so far?” Mr. Astor smiled.

“Oh, it is quite nice. Congratulations on the wedding, too.”

“Thank you, Miss DeWitt Bukater. It was a pity you couldn’t come. It was a lovely day, a very large wedding with five hundred people.” Madeleine smiled, remembering the day.

Rose’s nose crinkled slightly, knowing once again that this idle chitchat was what she would have to participate in for the rest of dinner.

“Where is your fiancé, Rose?” Madeleine asked.

“Oh…he…well…” Rose stuttered, not wanting to cause a scene or anything, so she said whatever came to her mind. “He’s in Paris. He will be joining me in the States later on, when he has finished with business, so I am traveling alone.”

“Well, in that case, you must allow me to escort you to dinner.” Mr. Astor smiled. Holding out his arm for Rose to take, she smiled a little and linked her arm through his as they approached the dining saloon. Maybe dinner wouldn’t be so bad now that she wasn’t alone. JJ Astor seemed like a perfectly nice man.

The saloon was like a ballroom in a palace. It was alive and lit by a constellation of hanging chandeliers. The room was full of elegantly dressed people and there was beautiful music from the small orchestra.

JJ and Madeleine stopped to speak to a few men. A thin Scotswoman approached Rose and her party. She was dressed from head to toe in mint green. JJ smiled as she offered her hand to him.

“Hello, JJ. It has been a while.” She spoke in a genteel Scottish accent.

JJ turned to Rose and introduced the two ladies.

“Rose, this is the Countess of Rothes.”

“Hello. Pleased to meet you.” The two ladies shook hands before dinner continued.

The table was large and seated nine people dining. They were joined by some people Rose had encountered before. Others she hadn’t. They all seemed like charming people. Rose was discussing ladies’ fashions with Lucille Duff-Gordon, who was a successful businesswoman. She designed naughty lingerie and had fashion shops in both London and Paris.

The remainder of the evening was spent listening to the inconsequential babble around her.

At around nine o’clock, the gentlemen proceeded to go to the smoking room, without their ladies, to talk business and politics while surrounded by a cloud of smoke and with brandies in their hands. Rose knew of the traditions. It was something she found to be pathetic and pointless. JJ offered to escort his young wife back to their stateroom, but she had declined, opting to stay to speak with Rose instead.

They chatted of weddings, mostly. Rose felt a little out of place, talking of a wedding she knew would never take place, but she knew she couldn’t tell anyone of Cal and what he did.

A young man approached their table. His hair was dark blond and was masterfully pomaded. His face seemed younger than he possibly was and he nodded graciously at the two ladies as he approached Lady Lucille Duff-Gordon. He spoke with her for several minutes before leaving the room as quickly as he had entered, a small smile on his face.

“It certainly is a pity we’re both spoken for, isn’t it?” Madeleine giggled girlishly. Rose’s attention was brought back to the present. She smiled and nodded, agreeing. The man certainly was handsome.

Rose decided to retire to her stateroom at around ten. JJ made sure a steward escorted her to her room, not wanting her to be alone at this time of night.

She thanked the steward and returned to her room. The night had been rather wonderful and eventful. Madeleine was a very nice young woman and she had had the pleasure of getting to know her husband.

Maybe this journey would be better than she had thought. Although she knew she would have to play at being Cal’s property for the remainder of the voyage, it was just something she would have to do.

She didn’t want any media attention about what had happened to her. She knew that if she told one person, even if she thought she could trust them, they would tell other people, and before she knew it, the entire ship would know. She knew what her people were like.

After reading a little of her book, Rose fell asleep peacefully around eleven.

Chapter Three
Stories