Titanic: The Novelization (110th Anniversary Edition)

April 12

Jack woke at dawn.

"I hope we're not too far from New York now," Fabrizio yawned.

"Sov i, om du vill," Olaus said, partially understanding his words. "Vi har fortfarande en lång väg att gå."

Fabrizio had no idea what he said, but he was looking forward to seeing Helga again.

He found her in the dining room eating her breakfast.

"Buongiorno," he greeted. "That's how we say 'hello' in Italy."

Helga just laughed, understanding little of his words.

Fabrizio turned to Bjorn, who was sitting next to him.

"You speakin' Norwegian, can you help me?"

"Bara lite," Bjorn said after taking a bite of his bread. "Men inte tillräckligt för en fullständig konversation."

Even so, Fabrizio tried again.

"Would you like to go out onto the deck, with me?" he tried as hard as he could.

Helga seemed to understand this time. Sadly, the same could not be said for her mother, who was more focused on her plate than any social engagements.

"Ikke gidder å snakke med ham, Helga," said Helena Dahl, the matriarch. "Han snakker ikke engang språket vårt."

"Men hva om han kan lære oss å snakke Engelsk, Mor?" Helga asked. "Vi trenger det hvis vi skal tilbringe resten av livet i Amerika."

"Vi lærer det når vi kommer dit," Olaf Dahl, the patriarch said sternly. "Du trenger ikke å skynde deg."

Despite the language barriers, Helga was looking forward to enjoying Fabrizio's company.

Then Tommy came in. He sat down next to Jack.

"Do any of you know that this is an Irish ship?"

"No, it's English!" Fabrizio argued. He had seen Titanic as an British ship ever since he first heard about it.

"To you maybe, but it was built in Belfast. 15,000 Irishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock made by big Irish hands."

"You sound very patriotic," Jack smiled.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Tommy asked. "Though to be honest, I'm actually sad to be leaving home. I've run a proud potato farm back in the fields, but poverty and lack of opportunity gave me no choice. I spent my last farthings on fertilizer, but what good is having it if you don't have any roots to plant the potatoes? Like you, I'm just a fellow who's seeking a new life across the pond and maybe if I grew my own potato farm in America, I'll be rich and come back here in First Class. Then I can show those la-de-da millionaires up top where the real effort comes from."

"You think it's all that bad?" Jack asked. He had a small hunch that being rich was not as fun as he imagined it to be.

"Might as well be," Tommy said, shoving some crackers into his mouth. "They ain't nothing but a bunch o'snobs, they are."

Speaking of snobs, albeit a rather nice one, Rose had just spent some five minutes awake when there came a knock on the door.

"Come in," she replied politely.

The door swung open. Trudy was carrying a breakfast tray of fresh fruit.

"Good morning, Miss Rose," she greeted sweetly. "I hope you slept very good, I was up for most of the morning."

"To prepare that?" Rose was confused.

"No," said Trudy. "Just a little worried. Last night, I was talking with the Allison's nanny and she seemed to have a low opinion of the ship's safety, like she doesn't believe it's unsinkable."