Author's Note: Hello, readers. This is the first fan fiction I've written. This story is purely a work of fiction and while employing the use of my artistic license, I have tried to make many details as historically accurate as possible. Grace Andrews, her mother, and her friend Lily are all fictional characters which I am weaving into this historical event, and they belong to me. I shall be using James Cameron's characters in this story because I like them...as characters, and they will help with plot development. Furthermore, when writing this I pictured these people looking and acting as they did in his movie. I know it isn't an accurate depiction of some characters, but I prefer it in some instances to the truth. For example, I prefer James Cameron's depiction of Harold Lowe as a selfless hero versus the historical depictions of him being a flippant racist - no offense to Mr. Lowe or his family. The only people I shall be painting in a negative light are J. Bruce Ismay and some of the fictional movie characters I mentioned previously. Also, I have yet to decide if Ellen Whitehouse will exist in this fan fiction or not...it depends on how I decide to end the story. I believe that is all that I need to say about my story. I hope you enjoy it.
Never an Absolution
Chapter 1
She sat patiently on the train, staring absentmindedly out the window as the English countryside rushed past. In about an hour she would be reunited with her father for the first time in almost four years. She fidgeted nervously in her seat, picking at the charcoal grey fabric of her wool skirt.
Grace Andrews was not the typical debutante girl. When she was five years old her mother died of pneumonia, leaving her father to raise her. He did as any father would do and sent her to the finest academy in Belfast, paid for piano lessons, and doted upon her often. However, he never spent much time at home and, therefore, nor did Grace. Her father, Thomas Andrews, spent the majority of his time at Harland and Wolff, where he was employed as a naval architect and master shipbuilder. On afternoons when Grace was not at her grandparents for piano lessons or with her best friend, Lily, she was at Harland and Wolff with her father. She grew up there. Learning to draw, do mathematics, and the mechanics and components of a ship from her father and his co-workers. She had spent many summer holidays sailing on these great vessels with her father, and she fancied she knew most all there was to know about ships and life at sea.
When she was fourteen, and just finished at the academy, her father remarried. Grace had been looking forward to spending as much time with her father as possible, but her new stepmother had different plans. She declared Grace too free spirited and insisted she be sent to a finishing school in London. "No man will want to marry a girl so stubborn and completely lacking all feminine grace and charm. Finishing school will teach her to behave as a lady should and prepare her for marriage. You do want her to marry well, don't you, Thomas?" Grace recalled sitting on the steps in the hall and overhearing that conversation, a conversation that would be her condemnation. So in September 1908, Grace began finishing school in London. She knew her father only had her best interests at heart. That had been almost four years ago. She and her father had written often, and his letters were her greatest joy. She hated finishing school. She hated the nonsense they tried to put into her head, and she hated the girls who were her classmates. They were all selfish and spoiled, and they clung to the lessons they were taught as if they were actually important.
Grace had been relieved when Lily, her closest friend, had invited her to spend time with her at her aunt's and uncle's in America. Her father's consent was readily given, and she was even more relieved when her father wrote to her and said he was pulling her out of finishing school early so they could travel together to America. She was now on her way to Southampton from London to meet her father.
The thought of seeing her father made her nervous. What if he didn't recognize her? When she left Ireland she was only fourteen, but she was now eighteen years old and very much changed. What if she didn't recognize him? What if things were awkward between them because it had been so long? Or, worse yet, what if her stepmother had changed him? She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She opened her eyes and glanced at the clock at the front of the train: half an hour until she was due in Southampton. She leaned back in her seat and, closing her eyes, took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.
At two-thirty the train pulled into the station. They were early. The other passengers on the train began to collect their belongings and leave, but Grace remained in her seat. "Do you need some help, miss?" The voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up into the kind face of the older gentleman who had occupied the seat across the aisle from her.
"No…thank you," she replied, forcing a polite smile.
She, then, slowly stood and collected her hat and small carry-on trunk from the seat next to her. She arranged them so that she was holding them in the same hand and stepped into the aisle and began making her way to the exit ahead.
When she reached the platform, she stepped out of the way of the doors to the train and glanced around, anxiously looking for her father amongst the people in the crowd. Her anxiety grew when she did not see him. However, after a moment, the crowd moved on and she spotted her father, craning his neck in search of her. When their eyes met he smiled warmly at her, and Grace practically ran over to him. She threw herself into his open arms and giggled when he lifted her up and spun her around, just as he had done when she was younger. He placed her firmly on the ground and took a step away from her before saying, "Let me look at you, Grace. You've grown so much, and you're so beautiful. What happened to the little girl I sent away?"
Grace smiled shyly and replied, "Daddy, it's still me. I just look a little different."
"Of course it is, darling. Come. Let's collect your luggage."
He took the small carry-on trunk from her and offered his arm. She gladly accepted it and they made their way to the car. To her surprise her trunks were already there, being loaded by a porter onto the car. When he had finished, they climbed into the car and made their way to the South Western Hotel, which was settled near the Southampton docks.
Once her trunks had been placed in her hotel room, Grace and her father left to tour Southampton. He insisted he had something to show her, and so he did. There, at the docks of Southampton, was the largest ship Grace had ever seen. Her name was Titanic. Grace had read about Titanic, of course, and knew that she was the largest and most luxurious ship afloat. She'd also heard rumors that the ship was unsinkable, thanks to new innovations, but she wondered how something made of steel could not be sinkable.
"Well, what do you think?" her father questioned.
"It's breathtaking."
"She is 882 feet and 9 inches in length, and she stands 59 feet from water line to boat deck. She's the first to…"
"Father, she's yours? You created her? I didn't realize…" She cut him off, awestruck by the realization.
He smiled proudly at Grace's enthusiasm, "I'm glad you like her, and tomorrow, Grace, we'll be going on her maiden voyage."
"You mean we're travelling to America on Titanic?"
"Of course, Gracie. That's why I pulled you out of school early. I can't wait for you to see her. I'm giving you a tour first thing."
Grace stood there for a moment, staring up at the great ship before turning to her father, "May I see the blueprints?"
He chuckled genuinely, "Yes, Grace, after dinner."
He offered his arm and, taking one last look at Titanic, she allowed him to escort her to dinner.
They talked at dinner, catching up with one another. He talked about her stepmother, Helen, and Elizabeth, and showed her a picture of the three of them together. Elizabeth. Her half-sister. She remembered when her father had written that Elizabeth was born. She had been born the day before Grace's birthday. She was two now and Grace had yet to meet her.
The conversation then turned to Grace and she told her father all about finishing school and how dreadful it was. "I'd hardly call it school. There was absolutely no stimulation of the mind. We were only taught how to stimulate the male mind. And they tested our posture every week by making us walk around with books on our heads. It was all rather silly." He laughed heartily at her accounts. He inquired after Lily, to which Grace replied, in a false voice, "In excellent health and enjoying America very much. My aunt has been introducing me to young men, and there is one I find quite amiable." At this, they both laughed.
When they had finished eating, her father asked, "Shall we return to the hotel and have a glance at those blueprints?"
"Yes, please!" she answered enthusiastically.
"It's extraordinary. You've really outdone yourself this time, father."
"Thank you, Grace. I'm glad you approve. You should begin preparing for bed. We're boarding early tomorrow, and I want you to be ready when I call."
"Yes, father. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Gracie."
He collected the blueprints, kissed her forehead and closed the door to her room behind him. Grace readied herself for bed, wondering if she'd be able to sleep that night with all the excitement. However, it wasn't long after she climbed into bed that she was sound asleep.
