Harold Lowe has managed to claw his way up the career ladder of the British merchant marines, rising from a ship's boy to a master mariner with one of the world's elite passenger lines. Along the way, he's learned to master not only his craft, but...
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Corrine poked listlessly at her uneaten breakfast and sighed. "I need to find a job, Katie."
The two of them were sitting outside at a small cafe after Mass that Sunday. Katie had ordered a large breakfast and wolfed it down already, and was now preoccupied with plucking bits from Corrine's as well. But she paused her scavenging to cluck sympathetically at her friend.
"It's only been a day, love. Give yourself some time," she said gently.
They had moved into a boarding house located very near the senator's mansion where Katie's cousin worked. Katie would be joining the staff tomorrow, as a maid in training. But today, at least, they were free to familiarize themselves with their new city.
And yet Corrine had felt no motivation to find her way around, or even wake up that morning. It had been Katie, pouncing on her bed with excitement at their new adventure, that had stirred her out of her lethargy at last. After washing her face and going to Mass, she had felt marginally better, enough to attempt a tentative bite to eat. That hadn't worked out well, though; the sight and smell of food had made her nauseous, as it had since her fight - her breakup, she reminded herself sternly - with Harry. Still, even if she couldn't eat, moving around the city, with its bustling populace, had reminded her that everywhere people were carrying on with the business of life. And she should somehow find a way to do the same.
"I've felt sorry for myself long enough, Katie. It's time to move on - time to start living again." Her words, although said unconvincingly, without any enthusiasm, were nonetheless resolute. "Besides, the money won't last forever." Although that was strictly true, she had more than enough for now, between her own money purse and the money the Red Cross and the American government had distributed to steerage passengers. She had no intention of ever touching a penny of Harry's money, of course.
But it wasn't the money that was driving her to contemplate her next step; it was needing a sense of purpose. Emotionally, she had drifted aimlessly in the past few days, her usual decisiveness gone and her spirit sapped. But she was unaccustomed to doing nothing. Since the time she was little, she had either been caring for someone - her mother, and then her father - or working, and her idleness the past few days was making her chafe. Having a lack of a clear goal was only making her situation worse. There was another reason for wanting to stay busy as well, of course. If she were able to find a job... maybe she would be able to take her mind off the disaster - and Harry.
She noticed a newsboy setting up on the corner, about to hawk the latest edition of the Washington Post. Her eyes narrowed. She was sure there would be want ads in the paper; perhaps she would buy one when they were leaving and peruse it after they had returned to the room.
"Sunday paper!" shouted the newsboy, waving the top one in the stack.
"Oh, do be quiet, lad," grumbled Katie. "I'm trying to enjoy my breakfast here."
