Of Heartbeats and Stardust

How to Get Away With Being a Stowaway

Tuesday afternoon, around 1 p.m., April 17th aboard the RMS Carpathia

The Carpathia was cramped; to say the least. The added weight of nearly seven hundred passengers took its toll and two days later it was stifling to stay in. The surviving officers of Titanic had been given small rooms in 3rd class to stay in; most bunked together to make room for other passengers.

Harry and Winnie were given their own (in a magnanimous show of kindness by the rest of the officers and passengers on board). They were one of the few "married couples" to make it out together.

They both dealt with the trauma in their own way. Harry had trouble sleeping and would often slip out of bed to go on deck, leaving Winnie alone. He, of course, was under the impression that she was sleeping, but she never did.

The sound of the ocean was enough to make her sick now. She fought the urge to flinch every time the boat creaked; the boat creaked a lot.

The circles under their eyes grew darker with each passing day until their interactions with anyone on board and even with each other were short and exhausted.

Winnie spent most of her time in the room while Harry tried to keep spirits up by talking to passengers on the boat. Even though they didn't see each other often, the affection they had grown on the boat did not fade.

It was afternoon, around lunch time, when Harry slipped into their room with a small tray of food. They had decided to start taking food in their room instead of the crowded dining area.

Winnie sat up, regarding him with tired eyes and a small smile. "Hello, Harry," she greeted.

Harry sat next to her, placing the tray in between them. "I brought lunch. It's not much but...better than starving down here."

Winnie placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

She reached for one of the rolls, which were still warm, clutching it in her hands. It was nice to feel warm things nowadays.

Harry refrained from eating. He merely watched her.

"Winnie," he said after seeing that she had taken a bite. "I've been thinking...about New York."
She looked up, her brows furrowed.

"It's going to be more difficult than we thought to get you into America."

He paused to examine her reaction. She was too tired to give one.

"You are, technically, a stowaway. Even though you're my wife on this ship, it'll be nearly impossible to fool the immigration police in New York."

Winnie nodded along. "Yeah; I figured that back in South Hampton. I was going to sneak away while we docked. But then I suppose no one would be looking for me. It's harder now."

Harry sighed. "The...sinking of the ship helped us a bit"

They both cringed.
"In that we can claim your tickets and passenger records were lost. But if they check the passenger manifest we might be in trouble."

"And there is no real record of a Winifred Lowe anywhere in the world," Winnie added. She had abandoned her roll and had begun ringing her hands together.

"I would have to change it," Harry said. There was a long pause. Winnie didn't want him to break the law for her. "I would have to write on the manifest and marry you to legally change your name. That means once we got to America we'd have to get some kind of marriage licence before I testify; which I know I'll have to."

"But Harry, that's all too sudden. I know that we do share the same feelings for each other but to tie you down now, with someone like me-"

Harry held up a hand. "Everything I've ever done in my life I've been sure about." He took her hands in his, pressing their foreheads together. "And there's nothing I've been more sure about than marrying you, Winifred. I love you and there's nothing that would make me happier than to marry you."

Winnie searched his eyes for a shred of doubt, a shred of anything she thought could lead to trouble or unhappiness. She found nothing.

For the first time since Titanic, she smiled. A genuine smile. It was like sunshine on a cloudy day.

"Then I guess we'd better go find a priest."