SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Two
Night came and went, but Anne was
not the least bit tired. The events of the previous day swam through her head.
She recalled the years she’d spent at Barclay Academy, certain she’d been sent
there only so her stepmother could lavish her attentions on her real daughter.
But Anne held no grudge against her stepsister, only her stepmother. The woman
had been cruel enough to flirt with her father before her mother’s body had
even grown cold and stiff with death, and then after they married, had sent her
stepdaughter off to finishing school the day after her husband had been buried.
No, there was no kind bone in Ruth DeWitt Bukater, and of that Anne was
certain.
As she attempted to tie her
corset strings alone, Anne became aware of one very crucial fact--she had no
maid. At Barclay, she had asked Mena, her roommate, to help her dress in the
morning. Although she acted as though she hated every minute of it, Mena complied
every morning, and Anne returned the favor. But here, she didn’t have so much
as a roommate. She had worn a corset all her life; what was she to do without
one? She began to worry at the locket she wore constantly. She couldn’t very
well walk around without one on...could she? The lower classes do it every
day.
When Anne left her room half an
hour later, she self-consciously smoothed her skirts, straightened her hat,
nervously glanced around. For the first time since she’d started wearing
corsets, she was without one. She cleared her throat and smoothed her skirts
again.
"May I carry those for you,
Miss?" a young man asked, looking down at Anne’s trunks.
"Oh, yes, please," Anne
said, quite relieved. Her trunks were heavy, having been stuffed full of
everything Anne owned, and she wasn’t certain how she’d manage. She’d never
really lifted anything heavy before in her life. Even in finishing school there
were others to do all the work. She led the porter to the Titanic, giving him
her stateroom number. Before he walked away, she fished a few dollar bills from
her purse. Just at that moment, a breeze pulled her ticket from her hand, which
she had been holding rather loosely to begin with. Oh, no! I can’t lose
that...I’ll never get away from here! She followed the piece of paper with
her eyes as it tumbled away, hoping it wouldn’t fall into the water. Running
after it, she stooped to pick it up just as another hand reached out and
stopped it first, and she grabbed the hand instead. Anne pulled her hand away
as she glanced up into the eyes of the officer she’d met the other day. Officer...Officer...Murdoch!
That’s his name!
"This must be yours, Miss
Stewart." Murdoch smiled, handing her the ticket. "I should hate for
you to lose it."
"Thank you, Mr. Murdoch. It
would have been very terrible, indeed, if you had not grabbed it for me."
Anne felt herself blushing, and looked down at the ground.
"So, you will be on the
Titanic’s maiden voyage?" Murdoch asked, and Anne nodded. "Then
perhaps I shall be seeing much more of you."
Anne’s eyes suddenly shot up a
moment after she realized that Murdoch’s words could have been interpreted in
an entirely different context, and she felt herself blushing all the more. He
must think me a vulgar, uncouth—
"I-I meant to say
that...that we will probably see each other more often." Murdoch suddenly
found himself rather warm, and the day wasn’t exactly hot. "Well, I must
be off. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Miss Stewart." That said,
Murdoch brushed past Anne and closed his eyes momentarily, mentally chiding
himself for the remark.
Anne watched the First Officer
walk off and couldn’t help but grin a little. To see a proper and dignified man
such as Mr. Murdoch become a bit embarrassed was certainly entertaining. She
walked up the gangplank, handing her ticket to the officer there, and couldn’t
help but wonder if she ever would see Mr. Murdoch again. The ship seemed
awfully large, and she fancied that two people could easily endure a voyage
without ever seeing each other once.
*****
"Will that be everything,
Miss?" the porter asked, looking around the spacious stateroom with
wonder. She certainly didn’t appear to be a first-class passenger or a person
of unlimited financial means, but looks were often deceiving.
"Yes. Thank you." Anne
nodded her head, tipping the porter again. She glanced around the stateroom. It
was much more comfortable and lavish than her room at Barclay had ever been,
even if one combined her shared room as a student and her private room as a
tutor. The room was complete with a small bed, sofa, table, chair, and basin.
The wood paneling appeared to be oak, but the top half of the walls had been
painted pristine white. She stared around her in awe for another moment before
a small smile slowly formed on her face. This is it. I’m truly going home. The
thought caused her to laugh out loud, and she clamped her hand over her mouth,
startled by the sound. She hadn’t laughed in a long time. A very long time.