Of Heartbeats and Stardust

Of Tea and Pirates

Thursday morning, around 7:30 a.m., April 11th aboard the RMS Titanic

The next morning Harold woke up to the sound of a loud "blast". He looked up and saw Winnie sprawled out on the floor, tangled in the quilt. She glanced at him and managed a smile. "Morning."

Harold groaned, getting up and stretching. He ignored her as he shuffled over to the sink and splashed a handful of water on his face. "Turn around," he droned. Winnie scrambled to put the quilt over her head.

As he buttoned up his shirt he watched as she moved underneath the quilt. It looked like a confused ghost.

"I'm done," he announced as he finished pulling on his pants. Winnie threw the quilt off of her head to reveal the sloppiest braid he had ever seen.

"Me too."

Harold paused, flabbergasted. "What...what did you do to your hair?"

Winnie pursed her lips. "I did it, all proper like the fancy ladies." She shifted a bit. Harold sighed. "Jesus help me." He took in a deep breath. "Listen, Winnie, I'm going to go find you a dress and you're going to wear it. In the meantime, please try to make your hair..." He paused, looking at her hair once again. "Less like that."

He didn't wait for a response as he walked out of the room. Winnie groaned, undoing her hair and sitting in front of the small mirror he had above the sink. "Here we go again."

An hour later and Winnie was dressed and ready to go. Harold had ended up doing his best with her hair, and it looked decent after many, many arguments.

Harold and Winnie stepped onto the deck in awkward silence. "So, I'll be heading onto my shift soon," he said, tipping his hat to a group of 1st class passengers. "And obviously the captain won't let you come with me, so you'll have to mingle up here."

He waited for a response but Winnie's face remained impassive.

"With the 1st class ladies," he added.

Winnie's mouth fell open. "Oh!" she groaned. "But Harold, I haven't got the speaking skills or social skills to keep up with them folk. I'll make a fool out of myself."

Harold shook his head firmly. "No excuses, Winnie. You got us into this mess, now you're going to keep up with it."

Winnie whined a bit, but, after seeing he wasn't budging, stopped and squared her shoulders. "Fine, yes, you're right. I've dug my grave, now I'll pull myself out of the damn thing."

She linked arms with him and marched further onto the deck. Harold fought back a smile. "You'll have breakfast right?" she asked.

Harold nodded. "Yes, I figure that's enough time to solidify the relationship, or some might be skeptical. The captain will be a bit more lenient with us if he sees we're affectionate."

They reached the Cafe Parisien where many of the 1st class ladies were seated with their friends. Harold held the door open and Winnie stepped in, shrinking in size as all eyes fell on her.

Harold stepped back to her side, taking her hand in his. "I apologize for these shows of affection," he whispered in her ear. He nodded to some of the passengers and found his way to a pair of seats near a window.

Three women who sat in front of them turned around. "Sorry to bother you," one of them said, a large lady with dark brown hair and a feathered hat. "But are you Mr and Mrs. Lowe?"

When Harold nodded, the ladies exchanged excited glances.

"You're the talk of the ship right now; none of us knew officers were allowed to bring their wives with them."