A VOYAGE TO REMEMBER
Chapter Three
Isolde leant against the railing
as the grand ship pulled away. She continued to wave, but without excitement.
Her face held a small smile, but sadness was more evident in her eyes. The
crowd began to pull away towards other parts of the ship. Isolde nearly jumped
out of her skin when Shamus set a hand on her shoulder.
"Would you like to walk
around the deck?" he asked in a softer voice than usual, noticing her
downcast face.
Isolde suddenly shivered and
turned towards him. She looked up at his shining eyes. "It’s a tad bit
chilly. I think I'll fetch my shawl."
"Do you need me to go with
you?" he asked with concern, for it was perfectly wonderful weather.
"Oh, no. I'll be fine,"
she said quickly. The concern became more evident upon his face. She smiled and
said more reassuringly, "I promise."
Shamus nodded reluctantly and
headed across the deck towards the stern. Isolde sighed and went in the
direction of the Grand Staircase. She was looking at the ground in thought when
she ran into someone. The person grabbed her arms before she could fall. Isolde
looked up into the dark brown eyes of Harold.
"We seem to keep seeing each
other," she said with a genuine smile while tucking a dark lock behind her
ear.
"Who was that man?"
Harold asked suddenly, his hand still on her arm.
"Oh, Shamus?" she asked
with a scrunched brow. "He's a roommate."
"Just a roommate?"
Harold asked, looking into her eyes.
"Yes. What else?" she
asked with a laugh at his concern.
"I didn't know," he
said, staring off. He suddenly snapped back to reality. "I will see you
tonight at 10:30?"
"Yes. At the stern,"
she said, a light blush filling her face. His gaze was intense. Isolde felt as
if he could see straight through her.
He gently placed a hand on her
cheek and was about to say something when a voice called, "Officer
Lowe!"
He looked past Isolde at Moody,
who seemed to have a look of disappointment and anger on his face. "I'll
see you tonight," he said quickly while rushing past her, apology lacing
his voice.
Isolde let out a sigh. She
quickly headed towards her quarters. As she reached the door, a vision of
rushing water suddenly filled her mind. She shook it off and entered the room.
Seeing no one, she went to the sink and splashed a bit of water on her face.
She patted it dry and reached up on the bunk. She opened her suitcase and
pulled out a black knitted shawl. After clicking it shut, she hopped down. It
would be about two hours until the seven o' clock dinner.
Isolde took her time down the
teeming halls. As she reached the lift, the young man opened the gate. She
entered with the shawl on her shoulders. She avoided his eyes, for he was
openly observing her. As the bell rang, she hurried off into the common area, a
crawling feeling over her skin. She headed off to the side railing. Leaning
over the side to look at the unusually calm sea, her dark hair blew behind her
in a cascade. She closed her eyes and focused only on the caressing sensation
of the wind on her face. She tried to imagine it as the officer's hand.
A young, blond-haired man studied
her carefully from the side. He sketched her peaceful image onto a yellowed
sheet of paper. She took no notice of him. He took his time on the delicate
features of her face. If only he could capture the rose-dashed cheeks and
intelligent, bright-colored eyes. It had been nearly a half hour by the time he
finished the sketch and she walked away.
As she headed towards the bow,
Lowe watched her from above. His eyes focused solely on her. He was roughly
turned around by Moody and shook by the shoulders.
"You can't be creating
relationships with passengers," he said sternly, "especially lower
class."
"What is the
difference?" Lowe asked angrily while stepping back from the other
officer. "Why can I be introduced and brought to conversation with dozens
of upper class women, yet can't be seen with a steerage lady?"
"Because it brings a bad
taste to the rich. They're the ones we need to return to the ship," he
said fiercely. "I can't stop you from ruining your own reputation, but I
can encourage you. If you like this woman, see her when you’re off duty."
Moody began to walk away when he suddenly stopped to add, "And for God's
sake, don't wear a uniform when speaking with her. We don't need people
recognizing you."
Lowe's face darkened with anger
as he watched the officer walk away. His normally soft, caring eyes held an
unfamiliar fire. What he had just said was the complete opposite of his usual
manner. He turned back to the window, but Isolde had already disappeared.