The Lost Princess [Hamliza Anastasia AU]

Chapter Thirty Two: All Sorts Of Surprises

Friday, March 11, 1927

Dinner that night was uneventful, mostly because they didn't actually eat it. It turned out that the cook had gone ashore and since Alex had spent the last of his cash buying Beth a dress, they were out of options. John groaned and complained, but Beth suspected he was secretly pleased since this probably meant he would no longer be subjected to constant ribbing about trading their beans for the music box. 

Now it was night, and Beth was snuggled into her blankets. The mattress was thin and hard, but she was too tired to care. As Beth closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep, a creeping loneliness settled over her. She hadn't been really, truly, alone for about a month now, and Beth was startled to realize she had gotten used to the boys' constant presence, and even taken comfort in it. She had always been a very private person, and having no personal space had grated on her, but now that her only companions were a whole deck below her, Beth missed them. 

Maybe the change in circumstances was the reason her dream came so vividly that night, or maybe it was because Beth was closer than she'd ever been to whoever waited for her in Philadelphia, but whatever the reason, this dream had a rare clarity and cohesiveness to it. 

It was one of those days the sun was so bright it seemed to tint everything else yellow. Several monarch butterflies flitted through the air. Beth watched them from her place in the grass, which was dry and sweet smelling from the heat. She was tempted to close her eyes and take a nap, but before she could, her younger sister called out to her. "C'mere!"

"Go with your sister," Their mother encouraged from her place on a picnic blanket beneath one of the few trees in the field. Far behind her, and up on a hill, the white turrets of the summer palace glittered in the sun.

"Yes Mother," Beth demurred. She followed the other girl and her bouncing brown curls up a hill to a small rocky outcrop at the top. Her older sister was standing there in her pink swimming costume. She grinned and waved to Beth, then jumped off the outcrop. 

Concerned, she hurried to the point where the girl had jumped and peered down. There was a deep pool down at the bottom, and along with a safe and sound pink swimming costume girl, her father was there, treading water effortlessly. "Hello sunshine!" he greeted her, waving.

"Hello Father!" She waved back at him excitedly, then teetered on the edge of the rock and nearly fell, taking a small step back to steady herself. 

"Don't be scared!" The girl called up to her, pushing her wet hair from her face. "Jump!"

Beth may have been hesitant, but her younger sister needed no more encouragement. With a whoop, she ran and launched herself from the outcropping, landing in the pool below with a large splash. 

"Come on honey," Her father encouraged her, holding out his arms. "I've got you."

Swallowing her fear, Beth jumped, and the scene shifted. 

There was so much blood. It stained her father's white suit a rusty brown. It was dry now, but Beth could see that it had come from the rip in her father's shirt and the bullet hole in his chest beneath. His eyes were open and his face was frozen in a look of  horror. She wanted to scream and sob, but on some fundamental level, Beth knew she couldn't do that if she wanted to live. 

She must find her way out of here, or they would kill her too. She stood, her legs shaking with each bump the vehicle traveled over, and stumbled to the cargo doors at the back. They were supposed to be locked from the outside, but the uneven terrain had undid the latch for her. Beth gathered her courage, and pushed as hard as she could on the right door. 

Right at that moment, the truck hit its largest bump yet. The door swung open of its own accord, and Beth pitched out of the truck. She didn't even have time to scream before the road rushed up to meet her. There was a splitting pain in her head, then everything was dark. 

The scene shifted again.It was night, and Beth stood on a bridge. The city lights glittered around her. Someone stood behind her. If she turned, she knew she would recognize the person, but Beth couldn't make herself do it. 

"Meet me in Philadelphia," The voice whispered. "Remember who you are!"

Beth sat straight up in bed. The ship was rocking, and she could hear a storm howling outside. She groped in her mind for the details of her dream, but as usual, they slipped through her fingers. Only a few things remained. The usual bridge scene was as fresh in her mind as ever, but this time, she had grabbed a hold of two other details. A young girl's laugh and blood a white suit. Who knew about the suit, but Beth was almost certain the laugh belonged to her sister. It was a shocking revelation, and one that had startling consequences. She couldn't have made up a sister this time, and if that really was true-

Before she had time to ponder this any further, there came shouting from the hall. "Hancock! What is this! Why are we in the middle of the goddamn ocean!"

Confused and concerned, Beth peered out of her cabin door. Alex stood in the hall in only his ratty T-shirt and underwear, ginger hair lose, glaring up at John Hancock, who was fully dressed and neatly groomed. It was such a bizarre sight that she almost laughed 

"I'm sorry," He said, holding up his hands. "Someone got suspicious and I had to head out. I would have warned you if I'd known we were going to be leaving. There's good news though, we'll be arriving in port in just a few hours, and it's about ten times easier to sneak you into the city at night. Now, do you want to be of use, or go back to sleep."

"I'll take sleep thanks," Alex grumbled. "Wake me when we make port."

Hancock tipped his hat to Alex, then turned and saw Beth. "Your lady friend is staring," he commented, then strode off toward his cabin. 

"I am not!" Beth snapped indignantly, slamming the door. Only after she was back in bed did she realize that she had never corrected him about being Alex's lady friend. 

Historical Note-Swimsuits were often referred to as swimming costumes in the old days, especially for women, who had to don swimming dresses similar to what you'll only see nowadays if you happen to spot nuns or strict Muslims at your local beach or water park.