A VOYAGE TO REMEMBER
Chapter Twenty-Five
Isolde rushed towards the stern.
She was still in her fancy clothes and struggled not to trip over the lace
train. Her curls were piled high again and bouncing along with her. Harold
turned towards her, not with his usual smile. She stopped in front of him.
"Why are you all dressed
up?" he asked softly, letting his fingers run through the silky hair.
"My friend from first class
is letting me stay with her for the rest of the voyage," she said
nervously, looking downward.
He nodded. "You’re
beautiful."
Isolde smiled. He leant down to
kiss her on the lips. She smiled against him. Looping his arm around her waist,
he led them inside.
"Let’s be entertained
tonight," he said suddenly to her.
"Such as?"
"There’s a party in third
class."
"I have to change first,"
she said quickly, the thought of Shamus not even running through her mind.
Harold nodded, letting her lead
the way to her new quarters. She knocked on the door after reaching it.
Elizabeth saw Harold in his everyday clothes and pulled them in quickly for
fear that someone had spotted them.
Edith looked Harold up and down,
deciding whether he was decent enough to be with Isolde. She nodded
nonchalantly and looked at the Welshwoman, who was rifling through her outfits.
"Off to third class?"
Emily asked excitedly.
Isolde nodded, rushing behind the
changing screen. Harold looked away politely. The girls all sat down and Edith
motioned for him to take his own seat. They could hear Isolde rustling behind
the screen as she rushed to change. She came out a few moments later, pulling
the pins from her hair and simply letting it fall. Harold grinned at her. Edith
looked at Isolde with disapproving eyes as she squished herself next to Harold
and pulled on her shoes.
"Have a good night!"
Isolde called to them, pulling Harold out the door.
Harold shut it, letting out the
breath he’d been holding. He pushed her against the wall and kissed her
heatedly. She looked at him after he was done with a grin. He sent the gesture
back and began leading them to F Deck.
"You don’t know how long
I’ve been waiting to do that," he whispered to her. "I was tempted to
kiss you in front of your roommates."
"I think Edith would’ve
removed you right then," she said back to him with a laugh.
The sound of music and laughing
voices began to fill the air around them. The many different languages of the
passengers became louder and louder. Harold guided her in through the doors.
Men sat at tables while gambling and such. More than half the party was up
dancing, the band on the platform.
Harold grabbed Isolde’s hand and
led her onto the makeshift dance floor. He twirled her in a circle and placed a
hand on her waist while leading her around the room, weaving between the other
moving couples. The music pounded in her ears. She was never one for dancing,
but with Harold, everything was more beautiful than before. The beat was clear
and constant. The sweet tune wove itself around her. For once, she didn’t step
on anyone’s feet. The song ended after what seemed like an eternity.
Harold led her away from the
band. He looked down on her smiling face. Her hair was tousled and hung around
her shoulders. He pulled her towards a table and gallantly pulled out a chair
for her. She sat down properly and waited for him to sit across from her. Just
as he was about to, Harold was roughly pulled away by the collar. Isolde rushed
up after seeing Shamus towering over him.
"Put him down!" she
screamed at the giant Irishman.
"I don’t think so," he
responded, raising his fist.
Isolde scowled and repeatedly hit
his arm, but he wasn’t giving in. Harold rolled his eyes and punched him in the
stomach; he was dropped to the floor instantly. Shamus grunted, but
straightened himself up. Harold got up and was ready for a fight. Isolde stood
between them.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
she asked Harold angrily. "He’s not worth it!"
"He’s the one who hit you,
isn’t he?" Harold asked her. "I won’t let him get away with
this!"
Isolde didn’t have a chance to
respond, because she was quickly yanked out of the way. She had just been in
the spot Shamus swung for. She saw Harold aim for Shamus, but witnessed nothing
else, for a group of men rooting blocked her way. Isolde growled to herself and
went in search of Tommy or Flynn to stop the fight. She found Tommy first,
sitting with a blond man and, of all people, Rose.
"Tommy!" she cut in. He
looked up and lazily took the cigarette from his mouth.
"If it isn’t my pretty lass
of a friend!" he slurred.
"I need you to stop that
brawl," she explained, rolling her eyes and pointing in its general
direction.
Tommy looked to see half the
party fighting now. "You expect me to stop that?" he repeated
incredulously. He saw Isolde’s pleading face and gave in, but not without
dragging the blond man with him. Isolde was going to follow when Rose pushed her
into a chair.
"You caused that?" Rose
asked with wide eyes.
"No," she said slowly.
"Two men did."
"Over you?" she
continued. "That must be glorious!"
"How on earth do you get
that out of it?" Isolde retorted. "It’s terrible!"
Isolde looked at the fight
worriedly. It still hadn’t stopped. Rose sat down and picked up Tommy’s
abandoned cigarette. "Well…besides this…" she began, "I
absolutely love it here!"