Chapter 1: A Goodbye
The ship was enormous. Her father had said it would be. The biggest ship in the whole wide world he'd said as he passed her what was meant to be his ticket with shaking hands. She hadn't understood at first.
"Papa, this is your ticket. You're going on the big ship with Mother."
Her father had smiled knowingly but she had seen the sadness in his eyes, the heartbreak. "Not just a big ship, Clarke. The biggest ship. You're going to see it with your Mother and sail it to America."
"But, Papa, this is your ticket. You're supposed to be going with Mother." Her bottom lip had begun to tremble and her father had taken her face in his hands before the tears could start.
"The sickness has spread too far, baby. I'm not well enough to travel. That's why I'm giving you my ticket, so you can go on an adventure."
Clarke finally understood. "No! I don't want to go on an adventure without you! I'm staying here, to look after you."
"Clarke, I have several good people here looking after me, they all do a very good job. I want you to take this ticket and go and see some of the world, before you come home and resign to marriage with that fool!"
He had never approved of the man Clarke's mother had chosen for Clarke's fiancée to be. Finn Collins was the son of a wealthy Irish iron manufacturer and was to inherit shares of his father's business on his 25th birthday. He was handsome enough, with wavy dark brown hair, a tall yet built physique and very well mannered. However, his cold, dark eyes held little passion for Clarke's liking, apart from whenever his eyes lingered on her a little too long… and she was perfectly sure that it was not passion in his eyes when he looked at her like that. Like a dog that had been made to wait for its dinner too long. Her father had always felt that he was not right for Clarke, who was not yet 19, and was always quick to make his presence known should he notice Mr Collins' gaze on his daughter remained unmoved after an uncomfortable amount of time.
It was hardly a surprise he desired her so. Clarke was a beautiful girl. Her long, naturally curly blonde hair framed her unmarked, elegant pale face perfectly, and she always knew exactly how to style it. Her figure complimented every dress. She was well read and well mannered, and fiercely intelligent with no hesitation to argue about politics or current issues of the world, even if others sneered that it was above her gender and station to talk about such things. Her father encouraged her, much to the chagrin of his peers "Give them a reason to envy you, Clarke, it raises you higher and higher with every disapproving look, every demeaning comment, every snide whisper. It raises you above them all." But Clarke's real defining features were her eyes. A beautiful, ocean shade of blue with such a crystal clear shine to them, framed with delicate long lashes, it was impossible for anyone not to find her the most stunning creature they had ever come across. But no one ever noticed her eyes, not really. They were too busy complimenting the fit of her dress, the shape of her figure, her posture, her polite manner, anything but her beautiful, beautiful eyes, something her sickly father lamented.
"My daughter is the most graceful being God has ever created" He would say, storming around his study "with such beautiful blue eyes, bluer than mine could ever be, and these good for nothing layabouts want nothing more than one night in heaven!"
Even Mr Collins had never had anything to say about her eyes. Upon their first meeting, he'd raked his eyes over her, exchanged a knowing and, in Clarke's mind, vulgar look with his father before taking her hand.
"Well, aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever had the pleasure to see." He'd kissed her hand, and Clarke had immediately felt rather sick to her stomach.
Her father had instantly disliked him. When the Collins had left, he stormed into his study with her mother close at his heels.
"For Christ's sake, Abigail, why him?!"
"They are a good family, Jack; he is a good prospect for her!"
"Oh, good prospect my arse!"
"Jack!"
"I will not have my daughter married off like she is cattle, Abigail, I won't allow it! We are not that kind of family!"
"You cannot hold onto Clarke forever, Jack. You're not well as it is! She is going to need someone to look after her for when we are gone."
"It doesn't have to be him" Clarke had heard her father deeply sigh in frustration and defeat "It doesn't have to be him, Abigail."
"He is a good prospect for her, Jack."
"Why can't you let her choose her own destiny, Abigail? She doesn't have to become a wife and mother just yet."
"We were married not much older than she is now."
"We traveled, Abigail! We saw some of the world; we lived our lives before we settled down. I am telling you now, if she marries that…that dumbfounded slackjaw she will have no such chance!"
"God, Jack, you make him sound like the devil incarnate."
"She is too young to be married. He may court her if you are so sold on it but a marriage I refuse to support. If you force her to marry him I will never forgive you. And neither will she."
"Clarke said he was nice enough. She may like him, Jack. He is a good prospect for her."
"So you keep saying. Very well. He can court her, if Clarke consents, he may even propose. But he cannot marry her until she has reached 21 years of age."
"That is three years away, Jack, what if he loses interest?"
"If he loses interest, he is not good enough for our daughter and I'd be glad to be rid of him."
"Oh, Jack."
"I don't want to argue with you, Abigail. I really don't. But she is my daughter; it is my duty to protect her."
"You think I don't feel the same, Jack? I love Clarke just as much as you do. I'm just trying to do what's best for her."
"I know, Abigail, I know. But not every solution lies in a man."
"You were my solution. You always have been. I love you, Jack."
Her father had sighed. "I love you too, Abigail. I always will. We have to do right by her. I want Clarke to have the best we can manage for her."
"We will, Jack. We'll try. That I promise you."
Now here she stood, face to face with the biggest ship in the world. The Titanic. Her mother had been cheerful on the journey to get here. Mr Collins would also be travelling on the Titanic, due to the fact that his father's iron had been used to make the ship. Her mother was sure that Clarke would fall in love with him on the journey to America. What could be more romantic than an ocean cruise to a foreign land? She had even nudged Clarke on the train, fantasizing that Mr Collins might propose to Clarke on her 20th birthday, 12th April.
"Wouldn't that be wonderful, Clarke? How romantic, to be proposed to on the biggest ship in the world on its maiden voyage."
Clarke had just sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the cold window as she let her mother drone on about proposals and fancy dinners and weddings and grandchildren. Her mother could be right. Mr Collins had been dropping hints about marriage in recent months, and due to his father's involvement in the building of the Titanic, his wealth had never been greater. As her mother kept saying, now would be the time for him to buy her a ring. She thought back to her father and sent a silent prayer to God that he was alright. He was terribly unwell when she'd left for the train with her mother and Clarke worried every second of the journey, wishing more than anything that she's stayed with him. Now she was to be stuck with her mother and Mr Collins on a voyage to a foreign land that she had wanted to see and explore with her father.
As she handed her suitcases and other luggage to a porter, she caught a glimpse of several working class people, also loading their luggage into the great vessel. She envied them for only a moment, free to live their lives as they wanted, to choose who to fall in love with as they wanted, to be able to do with their lives what they so wished. But then she remembered that it was they who probably envied her, and her wealth. She was the lucky one, having never wanted for anything, having grown up with both of her parents and living in a nice house, never having to worry about anything. She felt silly at the prospect of envying people who had so little in comparison to herself and yet she felt that they were rich in ways that she could never be. As she turned to return to her mother, she was subsequently crashed into by another figure walking into her path. Their shoulders collided and Clarke, still recovering from a horse riding injury, exclaimed in pain.
"Oh! Oh, I'm really sorry, Miss. Are you alright?"
A calloused but firm hand reached down to help her up from where she'd stumbled. "Yes, yes I'm alright. It's not your fault; I wasn't looking where I was going."
Clarke took the hand and was startled to come face to face with vibrant forest green eyes and a mess of curly, long brown hair, cascading over her shoulders.
"Are you sure you're alright, Miss?" Clarke hadn't realized she was staring, and blushed as she brushed off her dress and nodded in answer to the girl's question. She had never seen a girl wear pants and a shirt before. The outfit suited the girl and Clarke found herself attracted to the girls casual stance which made the clothes seem to fit her even better.
"Yes, yes no harm done. Thank you." The girl smiled, and Clarke felt butterflies begin in her stomach. The girl's smile was just so…inviting, the way it curved to the side as if she and Clarke were the only ones who knew a secret and her inquisitive green eyes seemed to laugh knowingly in tandem with the secret knowing smile.
"Well, you stay safe now, Miss."
"Thank you." Clarke barely had time to say it before the girl had taken off again, rushing towards the working class area to enter the ship. She thought back to her father "The best people you will ever meet in life, Clarke, are the people who come crashing into your life by accident." She briefly wondered if she would ever see the girl again. She noticed a cap on the floor near her feet, and picked it up, wondering if it belonged to anyone around her. However, there was only one person it would belong to, and Clarke's newly acquired stomach butterflies fluttered in excitement as Clarke read the stitching on the inside of the cap.
"L. Woods." Clarke placed the cap carefully into her hand luggage and hurried to find her mother before she worried about her. As they began to board the Titanic together, Clarke smiled to herself in the hopes that finding her cap meant that she was going to see her curious stranger again.
