An Unsinkable Love(4)



19

An Unsinkable Love

by Terri Benson

Closer by, another ramp led to a low, wide opening in the side of the Titanic, a scant dozen feet above water level. Mr.

Barton appeared at her side and gathered her trunk, steering her across the gangplanks toward the lower opening.

There was a commotion before they stepped inside. Bree gasped as she observed three men awkwardly climbing a rope dangling off the ship. Below, sailors in a dinghy tried to shake them off. A group of drunken Irishmen hung over the railing and shouted encouragement in Gaelic. Without warning, the man highest on the rope slipped, hit the others and knocked them off as he fell. It happened so fast she didn't have time to scream.

Mr. Barton tapped her shoulder. "They'll be all right." Even as he spoke, sailors fished the soggy men out of the water and pulled them into the dinghy. The purser urged her on gently, giving her a steady arm as they crossed into the bowels of the ship.

It was noisy inside the corridor. Workers scurried every which direction like ants, trunks and bags slung over their shoulders. Dollies loaded with cartons and cases trundled across the polished wooden floor. Thuds, crashes, curses and shouts echoed the hallways. Corridors led off at regular intervals as they walked farther into the ship. Several times, they were forced to flatten against the cold metal wall and allow a dolly loaded with more supplies or trunks to pass.

Small electric lights spaced along the ceiling gave off a feeble glow after the bright sunshine and it took a while for Bree's eyes to adjust.

20

An Unsinkable Love

by Terri Benson

Her guide turned left and right seemingly at random and they went up unmarked flights of stairs. A sudden flicker of fear nibbled at her confidence. What if she got lost and no one found her? It was silly, of course, but her life had taken such an incredible turn and she felt off balance. After she'd completely lost track of direction, Mr. Barton stopped in front of a narrow, blank wooden door, flanked by others equally nondescript.

The purser nodded at the doorway. "This is your cabin.

You'll share it with a stewardess from second-class. The tailoring department is on F Deck. That's one deck below. Ask any steward you see and they can direct you. You'll need to report to your station as soon as we depart, so get your things put away." He set the trunk down and put out his hand. She shook it, embarrassed, knowing her palm was sweaty.

"Thank you, Mr. Barton."

He inclined his head slightly then headed down the hall before she could say more.

The shiny metal knob turned with a faint squeak. She stepped over a low sill and hoped she wouldn't trip over it every time she went through. Bree inspected her new lodgings. The room was even smaller than her bedroom at the castle, and didn't contain even one of the round windows.

A set of bunk beds nearly filled the wall across from the door.

A built-in wardrobe occupied the space on her right and to the left, a small sink and a table with two wooden chairs. A single light gave off the same wan glow as those in the corridors.

The metal frame shielding the bulb cast a web of shadows.

21

An Unsinkable Love

by Terri Benson

She stepped to the wardrobe, her heels echoing against the bare paneled walls, and opened the double doors. One side of the upper hanging section was packed with a jumble of dresses, the lower shelves stuffed with other pieces of clothing. Bree carefully placed her few belongings on the remaining wooden hangers and shelves.

As she slid her empty trunk under the lower bunk next to another battered case, the door squeaked open. She turned as a plump young woman in dark dress and white apron stepped in.

The newcomer was gazing down as she entered and pulled up with a start just before she ran into Bree. "Who're you?"

Her bright blue eyes widened.

Bree bit her lip, uncomfortably shy, realizing she would be living with a total stranger. Having spent her entire life near the cottage or the castle, she'd rarely had the chance to meet a person she didn't know. "My name is Bridget Barry—my family calls me Bree. Mr. Barton hired me as a seamstress. I live in Queensland, or, well, I did. I might not ever go back."

She realized she was babbling.

The girl flashed a wide smile. "I'm Annette Mallory. Anne.

You just get on the ship?"

"Yes, a few moments ago, as a matter of fact. I hope it's all right I put my clothes in the wardrobe?"

"Sure. I'm in the lower bunk, so you'll have to take the upper. The bedding is folded on top. I'm glad to have a roomie. It can get kind of lonely even with all the people around. Come with me, I'll show you the facilities. We're lucky they're down around the corner. Close enough to be 22

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