A VOYAGE TO REMEMBER
Chapter Five
Isolde let out the breath she was
holding and sprinted down the halls. She was going to take the lift, but it was
still four levels away. She hurried up the stairs and was out of breath by the
time she reached the Grand Staircase. Isolde took no notice of the amazing
furnishings this time and rushed towards the stern. She almost knocked over
Officer Moody without realizing it. She called out an apology over her
shoulder. Isolde didn't even take heed of the freezing air that rushed against
her.
Lowe stared at his pocket watch.
It was nearly 10:35. Maybe he had been mistaken about the young woman. Just as
this thought came into his head, he heard a set of fast-paced footsteps. He
looked behind himself to see Isolde running as fast as she could. Her long skirts
were lifted in one hand. The dark locks flew behind her. She stopped in front
of him, out of breath. Her cheeks were a rosy pink and her eyes glittered.
Isolde suddenly noticed Harold's
attire. He was dressed in lower class clothing. His deep navy blue button up
shirt was tucked into a pair of tan trousers. He had an old wool coat worn over
it. Even his shoes were normal, a worn leather. He looked at the deck in
embarrassment.
"I know I'm not in officer's
attire," he mumbled. "These are everyday clothes."
"What's wrong with
that?" she asked, trying to look him in the eye as he avoided her gaze.
"I think this looks much nicer on you."
Harold looked into her eyes. Her
hazel-green orbs seemed to be searching his own soft brown ones. Isolde blushed
and looked away while pulling her shawl closer around her.
"You must be freezing,"
he said suddenly. He pulled off his coat before she could protest and set it
around her shoulders.
Isolde smiled at him. He looked
much more friendly in this attire. His hair was dark brown, almost black. When
he had worn the hat earlier, she had thought it was straight, but was surprised
to see wavy hair in a side part. His face was a bit colored from the cold. He
smiled.
Harold finally had the chance to
truly study Isolde. She was about a foot shorter than himself. She was not a
toothpick by any means, but was curvy. Her long, dark hair framed her face in
waves. Her eyes were bright, but at the same time held a look of sadness. She
had sharp yet soft features. He saw her breath as she laughed and looked away
from him as he studied her.
"So, you're from
Wales?" he asked suddenly, leading her along the deck.
"Yes," she said with a
nod. "As you are."
The two went further along,
stopping once in a while. Harold spoke of the ship and Isolde looked over the
railing every once in a while. Harold always reminded her not to lean too far
and kept a hand on her waist. This went on for nearly a half hour before they
began talking about their own lives.
"So, why is it that you're
leaving Wales?" he asked.
"My parents wanted to give
me a better opportunity than inheriting the farm from them," she said with
a sigh. "I miss it already."
"I'm sorry," he said
softly. "Where will you be going now?"
"To stay at an aunt's house
in New York City," Isolde rattled off. "And will you continue to work
on the Titanic?"
"I hope to become a higher
officer," he admitted while watching her gaze at the stars.
"What of your family?" she
inquired.
"Oh, my parents own a small
business. They hoped for me to run it," he said quickly. "I wanted to
work for my own money, so I began working on ships fourteen years ago."
"I see," Isolde said
with a serious nod. "Do you enjoy this?"
"Oh, yes," Harold said
immediately. "Many of the other officers think I am stern and cold against
the sea, but in reality it is my home."
"That is good," she
said while looking up at him. "I would hate for you to take a career you
did not enjoy."
"I wouldn't leave it for the
world," he said quietly, "unless the right lady came along."
Isolde stared up at him, not sure
if that statement was meant to imply something. Harold just realized his
mistake and looked at her with wide eyes.
"I don't want to marry
you," he stuttered. He slapped a hand against his forehead. "I mean,
I do, but not now. You're just starting your life."
Isolde shook her head at his
silliness. She smiled up at him with bright eyes. He became more rational. They
decided to go along with their conversation as if it hadn't happened, but his
words kept running through both their minds. Harold rolled the thought over and
over, and came to realize that he truly did love this woman. Isolde looked at
Harold and felt as if she had known him for years. Could this be something more
than a simple friendship?