''A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets….''
The words span around his head.
All around him there seemed to be ghosts. For the last six years, Brock Lovett had lived and breathed Titanic. Studied every facet of this wonderful ship and yet, the true tragedy had never quite entered his mind until he met Rose Calvert.
Her story was one of true love and heartbreak. She had lived eighty-four years without the man she had loved for just three days. Brock rubbed his temples, his whole life seemed to be shattering. He knew the company which he was working on behalf of was pulling the plug and he had begged for two more days out in the Atlantic, keeping divers in the water around the clock to find the jewel he had hunted for so long. $30,000 a day it had cost to keep them out here and he was so sure Rose Calvert would have pointed the finger as to the whereabouts of the priceless diamond. She had poured her soul out to him and revealed secrets she had locked in her heart for so long…
Brock slapped his own face. He rummaged around in his stateroom, it was a mess. Files and paper everywhere with pictures of the diamond, old claim sheets and several tape recorders. He pulled open a draw, almost tipping the whole chest over and then he found it. He flicked on the tape recorder for just a second and a voice filled the room. One filled with emotion. He turned it off as he felt himself shake as he heard the words which were spoken and left his room.
Rose Calvert had come out here, not to help him, but to deal with her own demons. Her granddaughter, Lizzy had no idea of the things which had occurred in her grandmother's life. But the truth was, Rose had lost someone so close to her at the age of seventeen. She had left behind a life of wealth to face one of poverty and lived on the memory of a man she had spent three days with and over the next eighty-four years, she had fulfilled every promise she had made.
Rose may not have helped him in any way but he knew he had to help her with the demons which she had lived with for so long. He had to admit defeat and he had to go out on a note which he knew would be one he would regret if he didn't do it. It had been forty minutes since Lizzy had taken an emotional Rose to her stateroom. It was in the corridor just outside where he found Lizzy leaning against the wall for support.
''Hi Lizzy, I was just about to-'' he stopped when he saw the mascara which had trickled down her face along with her tears.
''Oh, I'm sorry.'' She quickly wiped her face. ''My Nana is just-'' She breathed loudly to try to subside the tears, knowing he had already seen them.
Brock clutched the tape recorder and a plastic wallet full of paper. ''I just need to speak with Rose for two more minutes.''
Lizzy shook her head. She held out her pointed finger to him. ''No! She is tired enough.''
''But just for a moment, I need to find out more…''
''She has told you more than enough! We did this in her time and her way, but she is still a very frail woman!''
Brock rubbed his face, she wasn't listening to him. They were all irate and tired but this needed to be done here, now and in the moment. ''Look, there is something she needs to know, alright. This will benefit her and not me in any way.''
Lizzy scanned his face, he seemed to be serious. She backed down with a large sigh and opened the door to her Nana's stateroom. Rose was in her white nightdress, sat glancing over the various pictures which had been taken over the years. Her face was lost in the years which had disappeared before her very eyes.
''What are you yelling over?'' She craned her neck to see Brock holding the tape recorder. She raised her eyebrow. ''I'm afraid I have no more information, Mr. Lovett.''
''Rose, please. If you would allow me to speak with you, for just five more minutes.''
Rose's gaze pierced his. ''What would you like me to say?''
''I would like you to allow me to ask you about Jack Dawson.''
Rose narrowed her eyes at Brock. ''I'm afraid I know nothing else about him.''
Rose shivered. She stood from the chair as best she could and Lizzy quickly helped her to stand. She pushed her granddaughter away indicating she needed no help and grabbed her own stick.
''Rose, what if I told you something about him…''
She turned her aged body to face him. ''You never found anything on, Jack. You told me so yourself. There would be no information, he didn't purchase the ticket-''
Brock flicked on the tape recorder and a voice filled the room again…
''I remember like it was yesterday…better because I can never remember yesterday. But she, her, I remembered all of my life''
Rose felt her throat close up and she covered her face as her stick clattered to the floor forgotten. Lizzy quickly helped Rose back into her chair and found a blanket to place around her shivering legs. Brock clicked the recorder off.
''No.'' She whispered.
''Shall I go on?''
She nodded.
Brock played the tape again.
''This is the fourth of April 1992.'' Brock spoke into the recorder. He sat at the desk and watched the man before him. He had turned a hundred that month. His body was frail, he sat in a wheelchair but, by God, did he smoke.
''You don't mind, boy, do you?'' He asked Brock, holding his cigarette in a shaking hand. ''I have smoked for eighty years I'm not about to stop now.''
''Then, don't let me stop you.'' Broke smiled, he was anxious to get on with this. ''I am joined by Jack Dawson, a survivor of the Titanic who claims to have known Rose Dewitt-''
''Claimed? Do you not believe me, son?''
''It's just for the purpose of the tape.'' Brock explained, but then he gave up, knowing just how stubborn this man would be already. ''Jack Dawson knew Rose Dewitt Bukater personally.'' He corrected himself.
Jack puffed his cigarette. A cup of tea sat untouched next to him and his hands shook beyond his own control.
''Mr Dawson, may I ask how you came about to be on the Titanic for a start? The passenger list doesn't state your name nor are you listed as a survivor.''
''I won them in a game of poker.'' He chuckled. ''I had been in Southampton that day she set sail. My friend and I had met some Swedish idiots playing poker. I was a dab hand, my father taught me all I needed to know. I had won them fairly.''
Brock nodded. He sat back in his chair scanning this old guy before him.
''How did you meet the Hockley's?''
''I was friends with Rose. We met in the-'' he paused, ''in a way which I could never forget. Her beauty had captured me from the first moment. Hockley kept her caged like some animal. I always had promised myself to help keep her safe in that first moment.'
''And Caledon Hockley, what was he like?''
Jack took a last puff from a cigarette. ''Rich, beyond any belief, but he was a smug bastard and also, a coward.''
''And, he purchased the diamond from Cartier's on the six of April in the year of 1912 for his fiancé as an engagement present whilst in Paris.''
''I wouldn't know, son.''
Brock pulled out a piece of paper dated the sixth of April 1912. ''This document proves the purchase. It was filed under an old insurance claim. It was actually purchased by his fathers cheque, a Mr. Nathan Hockley a Philadelphia steel tycoon.''
Jack sat forward in his wheelchair. He squinted, his eyesight failing him. He pulled out a pair of spectacles from his pocket and scanned over the document. It was the first he had seen of anything like it.
''So, Mr. Dawson when you boarded the Titanic did you have any idea of who the Hockley's were?''
Jack removed his glasses. ''Not at all. I didn't read the papers. I lived my own life and each day I made sure would not be negatively impacted by anything.''
''So, you wouldn't have known Rose Dewitt Bukater was in fact engaged to be married?''
Jack narrowed his eyes. ''I knew. Of course I did. But like I said before she was kept inside a cage by that bastard and I knew I had to help her.''
''So you fell in love with her essentially?''
Jack bowed his head. ''Yes, I did. Unconditionally.'' He sighed heavily. He had never spoken openly of Rose and now that he was, he felt the weight of her memory deeply in his stomach.
''Did she return those feelings?''
Jack nodded. ''She told me so herself whilst we were in the water.''
''Did Hockley know of this affair?''
''He did.'' Jack covered his face with his hand. ''He had me locked away for stealing the diamond.''
Brock frowned. ''You stole the diamond?''
''No, it was placed in my pocket by the valet. It was a plan concocted by Hockley and him to get me out of the damned picture.''
Brock pressed his lips together. ''Is that the only contact you had with the diamond?''
''No. I was an artist and I drew a portrait of Rose, wearing the necklace at her request. Hockley discovered this drawing and then he got me arrested for stealing the diamond.''
Brock stood from his chair. They were in a darkened room littered with TV monitors. Images of the wreck filled the screens. Jack stared blankly at one of them, it was the bow railing and from the way his eyes welled up, Brock wondered if that meant something to him.
''I'd like to turn your attention to this.'' He knocked on the TV screen showing a live image of the stateroom of B52 as if to waken Jack back up. ''This is the sitting room. Caledon Hockley's safe was kept here in the wardrobe section. Am I correct?''
''Yeah.''
''Was this where the diamond was last kept to your recollection?''
Jack squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. ''I wouldn't know.'' When he opened them tears fell down his face. He was obviously struggling with something.
Brock sighed. He was squeezing blood from a stone. This man was so God damned old. Perhaps he was on Titanic, perhaps he saw Rose from afar commented on her beauty and that was it. Would a man in steerage really appeal to a happily engaged woman?
''All right, sir. You have been great. Sorry to open a can of worms for you here, sir.'' He went to shake his hand but Jack would not allow it. He was not been spoken to like a child.
''Mr. Lovett. Remember that I contacted you?''
Brock nodded. ''You did and I thank you.''
''But I have not said my peace here and refuse to leave until I do.''
Brock held up his hands in defeat and sat back into his seat. He would be here for a while, hw knew that much.
''Do you know what happened to, Rose?''
Brock raised his eyebrows. ''She died, I believe.''
Jack nodded. ''Yes, she died in the water. Surrounded by one thousand and five hundred screaming men, women and children.''
Brock remained silent.
''I loved her.'' His voice cracked. ''I wanted to die with her but I remembered the promise she had made and I knew I had to fulfil my part of it''
Brock studied his reaction carefully.
''I know Hockley lived. He married twice and had children.''
''Yes he did.''
''I had to live on the streets with hyperthermia. I fought in the Great War. I married and lost three children. My daughters were the making of my life, the only light I saw in twelve years since I lost Rose.''
Brock fiddled with the tape recorder. The frail old man had a sharp, strong voice. He was burying these feelings for eight decades slowly rotting away and now they were slowly coming out every pore.
''I never found out how she died. Part of me didn't want to know.'' He struggled to breath and he coughed so hard his chest pulsated. ''I fell into the water and I awoke to feel as though my whole body was numb, knives stabbing at me. I was robbed of my breath.'' He slapped his chest. ''When I kicked for the surface I found a boat and I was dragged aboard barely conscious.''
''You were rescued by one of the lifeboats?''
Jack nodded. ''Six out of the water. Out of so many thousands.'' He bowed his head.
''There was no record of Rose living.''
''I know, I searched every list. I waited for her when the Carpathia docked. She wasn't there. She died before I could ever tell her how much I loved her.''
Brock saw the man struggle, it was obviously a very painful thing for him to do. ''What would you say to her now if you could see her one last time?''
Jack's eyes showed the window of a young man shattered by such a devastating impact so young in his life. ''That I am sorry.'' He begun. ''I failed her, she was the single most important person in my life and I never forgot her. I lived on believing her spirit guided me''
The tape recorder crackled and then faded out. Brock stopped the tape and prepared himself for the reaction of the other half of this puzzle. She had sobbed her heart out entirely.
Rose was speechless. ''He…he lived…'' She stuttered.
Brock nodded. ''Yeah. He was rescued from the water.''
''And so was I.''
Lizzy shook her head in disbelief. ''You were right there with him, Nana.''
Rose leant into her daughters chest. She covered her face his her shaking hands. ''Oh Lord, have mercy.''
Brock handed Rose the tape. ''I believe this is yours.'' She took it with trembling hands.
''When did this happen?''
''Four years ago.'' Brock hung his head. ''Rose, there is one more thing you should see.'' He pulled out a plastic wallet filled with paper. Inside it was a coloured picture. He handed it to Rose. It was the first picture she had of Jack and he was sat in the same place where she had told her story, just four years later. She trembled, it was him. She could see the face had changed so little, his eyes still such a sparkling blue. She pressed the picture to her chest and squeezed her eyes closed so tightly.
''It is him. My Jack.''
Brock also handed her the plastic wallet. ''This is the transcript of the tape.''
Lizzy took the paper but was concerned more for her grandmother.
''Brock, I have waited for this moment all of my life.'' Rose smiled through her tears.
Brock felt how clammy his hands were. ''Rose, there is something else.'' Rose took her eyes away from the picture for a moment. ''Jack passed away, three days after he told his story. It was as though he had waited this long.''
Rose touched her chest. Her breathing was unsteady for a moment or two. ''Why was this never made public?''
''Jack made me promise not to.'' Brock glanced at the floor. ''He did say that if I ever found any information of your life, if by change you had survived, that I would let you know that he lived.'' Brock's voice was soft. Lizzy wiped away her own tears. ''To let you know that he loved you.''
Brock sat in silence half an hour later as Lizzy knocked on the door of his stateroom. She was tall and towered above him as he stood. ''Lizzy, hey.''
She smiled as she entered, her eyes were red and still watery. It had been an emotionally draining day for all involved. ''Thank you for today. I was harsh on you before…''
''No, no. I never allowed myself to have a heart and then I realised that your grandmother has been through a great deal…'' Brock shook his head. ''She loved a man she thought had died but then spent a life trying to fulfil their promise and then to find out now that he lived…''
''What was he like, Jack Dawson?''
Brock laughed. ''A great, great man. One I suppose will impact me now for the rest of my life. I will always remember, even if I don't want to.''
Lizzy wiped the tears from her face. ''What happens now?''
Brock paused for a moment. ''It's time to go home.'' He spoke quietly. ''I wasted six years of my own life but now I know I did it for a reason. It was to reunite these two beautiful people, in some way.''
''I hope I find that one day.'' She smiled. ''Will you be returning to your wife or children?''
''I have no one waiting for me.'' He shrugged. ''I spent my life here for six years. I never pictured a wife or kids.''
Lizzy glanced down at her hands. ''Nana wanted nothing more than for me to find a husband and to have kids.'' She laughed.
''She wants the best for you.'' Brock smiled. ''That is all.''
They fell silent for a moment. Lizzy stood and walked to the door. She leant against the doorframe, her hair flipped over her shoulder. She was the prettiest girl he had seen in so long, why hadn't he noticed that before? ''I know that.''
She was just about to walk away when Brock called her back.
''Hey!''
Brock followed her into the corridor, his hands shoved into his pockets and he leant against the doorframe. ''I know this is a long shot and I haven't taken a woman on a date in twenty years but, how about coffee when we settle back home?''
Lizzy grinned, she nodded. ''Sure.''
She turned her back and started back to her own stateroom.