The Ship of Dreams

Chapter 6: Change

April 11, 1912

The next morning, Titanic stopped at Queenstown to pick up more passengers, one-hundred and twenty-three in all, and Elizabeth woke up with visible excitement on her face, causing Violet to eye her suspiciously as she got dressed into one of her finest outfits and hummed to herself.

"Someone seems chipper today," Robert smiled, pressing a kiss to his daughter's forehead. "What's the occasion?"

"I have been invited to dine with Mr. Andrews," she smoothly replied. "Since Mr. Andrews noted my clear interest in Titanic, he wanted to discuss the ship further and show me how she functions."

"Well, good for you, darling," he brushed her hair back. "This is the perfect age to start socializing, and I have no doubt you will be great."

"Thank you, Father," Elizabeth nodded. "I appreciate the support."

She then turned and walked out, not even bothering to ask for her mother's approval.

While Elizabeth was waiting at the lifts, a kindly woman in her forties approached and stood next to her, hands on her hips.

"I better not be late for breakfast," she shook her head. "I'm hungrier than a bear on a winter's day."

"I'm sure it'll be here any second," Elizabeth assured. "Although, to be honest, I'm in a bit of a rush, too."

The older woman turned and looked at her with a smirk.

"Sure seems like it," she said in a thick, Southern accent. "Your face is pinker than your hat."

Elizabeth didn't even realize she was blushing until the lady mentioned it, and she put a gloved hand to her cheek, shocked when she could feel her hot skin through the material.

I sure hope my parents didn't notice, she nervously thought. Especially my mother.

With a deep breath, she composed herself and vaguely replied, "There may be...someone involved."

"I thought so," the lady grinned. "I've seen that look at least a million times in my life."

Elizabeth smiled to herself, then stuck out her hand and said, "I'm Elizabeth."

"Margaret Brown," she replied, giving a little curtsy. "But you may call me Molly."

"A pleasure," the younger woman nodded. "If you don't mind, I would like to keep this conversation between us. My mother will freak if she knows about my relationship with this man."

"Of course," Molly replied. "May I ask why you are so secretive about this?"

 Elizabeth felt that she could trust the woman, so she leaned over and whispered, "He's a third-class passenger. I merely want to keep him safe from my overbearing mother and her irrational ways."

"You got it, hon," she nodded. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you," she said, grateful for her understanding. "We just met, but I don't want to lose him. He's...special, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean," Molly smiled. "'Always go after the things you love'. That's what my momma used to say."

"She was very wise, then," Elizabeth observed.

"Oh, yes. She was."

Just as she finished her sentence, the lift came to a stop behind the gated door, and a staff member asked, "Going up, ladies?"

"Sure am," Molly replied while rushing forward. "I thought I might starve down here."

"I assure you, ma'am, that would never happen," he shook his head. "We take good care of our passengers."

Elizabeth slipped a few coins into the man's jacket pocket and said, "Thank you for picking us up."

"Of course, Miss Collins."

After Molly had made it to the A-deck verandah café, Elizabeth said goodbye and headed to the well deck.

She eventually reached the end of Titanic and gazed out at the endless blue ocean, admiring how crystalline it seemed.

The horizon seemed to stretch for miles, and not a speck of land was in sight.

Titanic had begun her journey across the Atlantic.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat behind Elizabeth, and she turned around to find Alex standing there, nervously rocking on his heels.

"Mr. Jacobs," she smiled. "It's so good to see you! How are you doing?"

"I'm doing just fine, ma'am," he nodded, still not meeting her eyes. "I came here to owe my thanks for your help. I really appreciate it."

"There's no need for that," Elizabeth said as she stepped over to him. "Your healthy presence is enough for me."

Alex visibly blushed and fussed with his soot-covered hands, not knowing exactly what to say.

After a moment, however, an idea seemed to click in his head, and he directly looked at her as he asked, "Would you like to come down to the boiler rooms? I know it's no place for a fine lady such as you, but I think Frederick would be happy to see you."

"To see me?" Elizabeth pointed at herself. 

"Yes, you," Alex chuckled. "In fact, I think all of the stokers would be pleasantly surprised with your visit. Almost none of us have girlfriends or homes to go back to, so we spend our time alone for the most part."

"Goodness," she gasped. "That sounds awful."

"It's the way things are," he shrugged. "We can't change our ranks in society, no matter how much we want to."

"That may be true," Elizabeth thought aloud. "But that doesn't mean you and your fellow third-class friends have to be treated so badly. I think it's time we changed that."

"So, is that a 'yes'?" he asked nervously. 

She nodded.

"My parents think I'm dining with Mr. Andrews. That should buy me some time."

"What about your lovely outfit?" he asked, his tone concerned. "The soot will show on your white dress."

Elizabeth waved him off.

"Women need to learn to get their hands dirty if they want to do things in life. I have no issue with your invitation."

Alex's eyes lit up, and he grinned as he held out his arm for her like a gentleman.

"Let's go, then."