Author Note: This is a story that was one of my babies from years ago, and I think it deserves to be polished up since I've now found my writing voice so please be patient.

I don't own any of the characters and have always had an unhealthy obsession with both CSI and the Titanic. It was only a matter of time before those two obsessions crossed paths. I'm not coping any of James Cameron's Titanic, this story is my own ideas, just with 'borrowed' characters and a real life maritime disaster I do not plan to belittle.

Please do enjoy and R/R as you wish. I do at times need validation from complete strangers just as much as the rest of you.

B

Updated 01-16-18: I really love this story and I think it has great potential, so this is why I am spending some time in updating it even though it has been on here for years. I am also procrastinating a massive editing project for one of my other stories that makes my head hurt just thinking about.

A Night to Forget

A Love to Remember

- Wednesday April 10th, 1912 - 11:15 AM Liverpool, England -

Spring in England was usually dreary, filled with overcast skies and rain. Umbrella's were a staple accessory when leaving the home, where rolling rainstorms could happen in a moments notice. Today was an exception, as if mother nature knew that today was the day history was going to be made. The White Star Line, one of the most renowned Ocean Liner companies in England, was preparing to launch their latest ship; the RMS Titanic on her maiden voyage across the North Atlantic reaching it's final destination of New York City in a weeks time. This ship was the brain child of Thomas Andrews, a brilliant ship designer and a man who knew style, comfort, and safety were the highest priority for the passengers embarking on a trip across the ice fields of the North Atlantic.

The sky was a brush of blue, dotted with white clouds billowing from neighbouring factories and shop keepers wood stoves. The air was crisp, but typical for an April day. Women wore long sleeve dresses and shawls to break the wind while men were dressed in overcoats and top hats. Every citizen in Liverpool was standing on the pier, eyeing the monstrous ocean liner moored their, waving handkerchiefs and canes at loved ones on the boat deck, preparing to say good-bye to England, her Maiden Voyage was scheduled to commence in an hour. The newspapers called her 'the ship of dreams' or the 'unsinkable Titanic', for she was the largest ship of the White Star Line fleet. In order to fill her 840 staterooms covering first, second and third class respectively Mr. Bruce Ismay, the spokesman for White Star Line, claimed that 'God himself could not sink this ship'. He even supported raffles the company held to sell ticket for those who worked on getting this iron beauty ready on time.

Rows upon rows of people lined the docks, waving to loved ones and complete strangers already on board, The Titanic's walkways were lowered, bridging the gap between the dock and the designated entrances allowing passengers to board. Children clutched their mother's arms, pointing at the rich women in over sized hates and fancy dresses, awestruck by this moment in history. There were few with motion picture cameramen cranking the reel on their cameras to capture this historic moment on film. Three of the four smoke stacks were billowing steam from coal that was being shoveled down in the engine room. Suddenly the horn blew, cutting the air like a knife, announcing she would set sail in thirty minutes.

Crew members dressed in pressed navy blue petticoats with brass buttons so shinny they glinted in the sun, helped women cross the thresholds, greeting them as they boarded. All third class passengers were forced to go through a health inspection before boarding the ship. Nurses and Doctors would do quick check ups, combing through beards and hair looking for lice, making sure no diseases would follow them aboard a ship. Anything, especially in the wake of the latest influenza epidemic, would spread like wildfire in a ship that size. Most steerage passengers clutched suitcases and rucksacks full of all their belongings. The cost of a third class ticket was more than most families rent, but for those that could afford it, they were never planning to return to England. This was their chance to begin anew in America.

A young woman, no more than nineteen, stood in line to board the ship, just clearing through the health inspection. She tied back her brown locks with a kerchief, smiling at the little girl whose hand was wrapped within her own. She straightened her dress that was covered with patches of an array of fabrics, a homemade creation from scraps of fabric she had left over from her various seamstress jobs. She looked down at the little girl, licking her fingers to wipe at a small smudge of something on her cheek. In her freehand was their one carpetbag, weighted down with clothing, a few books, and some trinkets from home. The young girl smiled brightly, excitement dancing in her ocean blue eyes at the adventure they were about to begin.

"Isn't this exciting mama?" The girl asked, Her porcelain doll, the only possession she cared about, was clutched close to her chest.

Her mother nodded with a smile as they were approaching the end of the passenger walkway, "Yes Sasha, but hold my hand. I don't want you to get lost."

Sasha peered over the side, watching the black ink water at least seven feet down, slosh up against the side of the ship. She saw a mother duck and a trail of three ducklings paddling between the dock and the ship, looking so small compared to the towering ocean line. Her mother pulled Sasha forward, focusing on the young man helping those cross the threshold. Sasha let go of her mother's hand and jumped over and into the ship with a delightful giggle, eyes bright with excitement.

"Grab my hand Miss and I'll help you inside." The young man said extending his hand out to her with a kind smile.

Sasha let go of her mother's hand and jumped over and threshold and into the ship with a delightful giggle, looking at her mother.

"Come on mama!" She called excitedly, rocking her doll back and forth in her arms.

Her mother took the mans hand and held her breath, making the small leap. She didn't exhale until her boots had safely touched down on carpet.

"May I see your tickets please?" He asked with a smile.

The woman produced the tickets for her and her daughter from her dress pocket, handing them to the man.

"You're cabin is on F Deck. Go down the hall to the staircase on your right, take the stairs up one level to F deck and follow the signs to your cabin." He explained, giving her back the tickets and checking their name off the list, "Welcome aboard Miss Sidle, I hope you and your daughter enjoy your voyage with the White Star Line."

"Thank-you," She replied, ushering Sasha away from the man and deeper into the ship.

- 11:45 AM -

Down the dock a black Model-T Ford with brass head lights pulled up, honking it's horn to warn the spectators as they cleared a path. The car came to a stop close to the edge of the dock, as the driver, dressed in his finest uniform, got out and opened the passenger door behind him. A gloved hand clasped his as an older woman stepped down, onto the crowded dock. She looked up, tilting her head in her large sunhat to gaze at the ship she was to call home for the next week. For countless nights she'd dreamed how magnificent the Titanic would be. The elaborate design of her stateroom, socializing with the elite England and America had to offer, treating this voyage like a summer vacation. Her smile grew as she watched people on the boat deck leaning over the metal railings and shouting good-byes to Liverpool and to loved ones.

A young woman emerged from the car, dressed in a simple pink dress and light overcoat, blonde hair falling over her left shoulder in a long french braid. She disregarded the help from their driver, who bowed and started to unload the luggage on the back of the car with a few crew members. She walked to the front of the car, feeling the electricity of the people around her. She joined the older woman who looked to be awestruck. The photographs of the ship did nothing in comparison to seeing it live.

"isn't it beautiful Catherine?" the older woman whispered, turning away for just a moment to look at her daughter, frowning at the scowl on her lips.

"All I see mother is a gilded cage." Catherine replied.

She grabbed Catherine's hand, leading her towards the walkway, "Nonsense Catherine." She called over her shoulder, not about to allow her daughter's sour mood spoil this.

Catherine reluctantly followed, taking the wooden steps slowly, prolonging the inevitable for as long as she could. She looked down at the ocean lapping against the hull of the ship, wondering what was happening beneath the surface. She didn't want to be on this voyage, no matter how much her mother tried to pass this off as a vacation, this was far from the adventure she sought. Things would be different if her father hadn't of passed away two weeks ago from a heart attack. Since then, Catherine had been depressed and moody, picking fights with her mother every chance she got, the latest one about her accompanying her mother to New York to settle her father's estate. She loved England, it's beauty and rich history, America was full of tall skyscrapers, loud noises and obnoxious people. It made Catherine sick to her stomach to think that that was going to be her new home.

Her father was a successful American business tycoon who married her mother, a distant relative of the British Royal Family that was disowned and searching for the next person to financially support her. Catherine had never been to America, was born and raised in Liverpool and brought up mostly by countless nannies, neither parent paying much attention to her, treating her like a leech on precious time and money instead of a miracle. It wasn't until she was twelve that Catherine started to grow close to her father. Over dinner one night she expressed her interest in running the business, and her father laughed it off until she asked him to quiz her. He gave in, asking her all sorts of questions and Catherine, having her father's quick wit and sharp mind answered them with ease. A large part of why they never grew close was her father's desire for a son to carry on the family business, but when Catherine proved she could do anything a man could, he started to take her under his wing.

This sudden shift in parental care angered her mother as she constantly fought with both her husband and Catherine about her growing into a tom boy, interested in business and hunting instead of cocktail parties and marriage. When her father died, it hit Catherine hard, feeling like a man she was just starting to learn about had been taken from her. Her mother on the other hand shed tears, but not over loosing the man she loved, it was over his estate and what was going to happen to herself and her daughter in the wake of his death. When Catherine learnt of her mother's gold digger blood she threatened to run away, to leave her mother to flounder all on her own. She had almost made up her mind when a letter came in the mail from New York. It was from her father's lawyers, requesting both her and her mother's presence, providing them money for tickets. Her mother cashed in for two first class tickets on the Titanic, packing up what possession she dared to live without. Catherine begrudgingly agreed to the trip not because of her mother, but because she intended to run her father's company in America, just like he taught her, and leave her mother once and for all. S

Catherine paused for a moment on the walkway, looking back, taking in her last sight of Liverpool. As much as she didn't want to leave, there was nothing left for her here.

"Catherine" Her mother called, catching her attention.

Catherine quickly walked up the walkway, grabbing the hand of a young steward who helped her over the threshold. She smiled a thank you, seeing the young man blush.

"Welcome aboard Lady Willows, Miss Catherine. If you follow this hall to the end and turn left you'll be at your cabin. Your luggage should be arriving shortly and we wish you a pleasant journey aboard the Titanic." The man said, his smile broadening.

"Thank-you" Lady Willows replied and grabbed Catherine's hand, "Come," she barked as if talking to her family dog.

Catherine eyed the wood paneling and breathed in the scent of fresh paint, and bright lights set into the stucco ceiling above. A long, Persian carpet ran the middle of the hall softening their footsteps as they passed various whitewashed Stateroom doors with brass numbers buffered indicating cabin numbers.

"Isn't this just marvelous Catherine? I feel like a Queen." Lady Willows whispered approaching the end of the hall.

Just beyond their stateroom was a foyer with topaz tile embellished with a simple geometric design. A set of lifts was visible off to the left, one of the newest additions to ocean liners, Titanic being the first of it's kind. To the right of the lifts was a set of stairs that descended down, wrapped with a large wooden banister. This was a piece of the Grand Staircase, the crown jewel of the ship. Passengers that had boarded early were already dressed in tuxedo's and long evening gowns, gawking at the beauty this ship had to offer.

"It's magnificent," Catherine replied before adding, "Although, I don't believe there's ever been a time were you're not treated like a Queen."

Lady Willows snapped her head around, eyes hard, "Don't you start with me young lady. The last thing two women traveling alone need to do is make a scene. Especially within earshot of all these rich and influential men."

Catherine rolled her eyes, opening the door to their stateroom. Moments later their was a knock as two stewards and their manservant Charles, a young man who had been working for the family since he was a young boy entered the Salon and began to unload the luggage. Catherine and Charles had always been close, Charles being the only boy who was close in her age that she could play with as a child. He started his career at the Willow's estate as a farm hand, sneaking off from his duties to go chase Catherine in the field, or swim in the creek that was behind their home. As he matured into a young man Catherine's father saw the potential in the young man and promoted him to manservant, serving primarily himself, but also as a bodyguard for his daughter when the need arose.

The salon was dark, almost seedy with the rich mahogany paneling and brass plated, fleur de lis design wallpaper. A fireplace was off to the right, a set of leather arm chairs seated towards it with an oak table in the middle and crystal decanter full of a brown liquid Catherine assumed to be brandy. To the left were two doors, each leading to a separate bedroom. Directly across from the main stateroom door was another door that lead to their own private promenade deck.

"I'm going up the boat deck to clear my head, this room is just too, congested, at the moment." Catherine announced, turning to leave.

"Charles, could you-" Lady Catherine began to say as he nodded and left before she was able to finish her thought.

- 12:00 PM -

Boarding the ship was nothing in comparison to finding their cabin. The halls were packed with passengers that Sasha and her mother pushed and shoved their way through, following the signs towards their assigned cabin. Large families were loud, speaking in various languages, taking up large areas in the wide halls with all of their possession. Sasha kept a tight grip on her mother's hand, fearing that she would get lost and they would never find each other again. Her black boots clicked on the orange cement floors, which Sasha thought was a strange colour. The fume from the grey paint that coated the walls made her head hurt as her eyes followed the rivets that were in perfect lines, like buttons on a jacket. Once they made it to F deck, the crowd began to disperse and the wide hall became narrow with rows of white doors on either side of them.

Her mother followed the directions, finally after a few twists and turns they reached their cabin, F 37. She knocked, before opening the door, knowing that their ticket was for a shared room, unable to afford a private stateroom, even in Steerage. When she opened the door the light was off, the sunlight from the porthole that was directly in front of her, bathed the small room in a warm glow. The room was simplistic, with two sets of bunk beds, one to the left, the other to the right, with a small sink and mirror in the left hand corner next to the porthole.

Sasha went over to the low bunk on the left, gingerly placing her porcelain doll down on freshly made bed, the dolls head resting on the bottom of the goose down pillow. the bedding gently. She then sat down on the grey tweed blanket, swinging her legs over the side as she watched her mother put their carpet bag under the bunk before joining her on the small mattress. She looked at her daughter, seeing the wide eyes knowing she was itching to ask a question.

"Yes Sasha?" She asked, brushing a few curls out of her daughter's face.

"Can we go up to the boat deck and wave good bye to Liverpool?" Sasha asked.

"I-" Sara was about to say no, but the sorrow in her daughter's big brown eyes stopped her. "Alright, but we should get moving if we want a spot near the railing."

Sasha beamed, grabbing her doll before heading out once again.

- 12:15 PM -

With the Titanic about to leave port, she blew her last whistle signalling for White Star Line deckhands to release the ropes and pull in the causeways. At twelve fifteen on the dot Captain Edward Smith, a man with twenty-five years of sailing experience under his belt, did not want the Titanic to be his first liner who left behind schedule. Catherine had made her way to the stern, finding a small opening at the railings between a few steerage passengers waving good-bye. She knew Charles would be following her, but over the years of friendship she was able to think of creative ways to loose his scent just long enough to enjoy some freedom. Catherine made sure however that he could always find her, treating him like her older brother instead of an employee. It was a compromise, mostly to benefit Catherine who would avoid lectures from her mother that became increasingly frequent since her father's death.

Catherine gripped the metal railing tight, her knuckles white as she leaned over, looking down at the water below, wondering what it would feel like to jump into the ocean from this height. They were so high up that those people still lining the dock looked like a colony of ants. Suddenly she felt a small tug on her dress as Catherine looked down, spotting a little girl with big brown eyes, clutching a porcelain doll.

Catherine smiled and stepped aside, allowing the little girl to go up to the railings. She then turned back to look at the young woman who was no older than herself that had gone pale with the thought of her daughter so close to the edge.

"It's alright, I've got her." She stated with a smile as the young woman just nodded, keeping her distance.

Another ocean liner called The New York had docked at Liverpool about an hour before the Titanic was about to depart. The deckhands aboard the tug boat guiding the liner in safely had done a terrible job of securing the bow line to the dock as one of the ropes had snapped, allowing the liner to slowly drift on a collision course with the stern of the Titanic.

Catherine saw something moving out of the corner of her eye, followed quickly by shouts. She acted upon impulse, grabbing the little girl in front of her and pulling her back from the railing. The girl yelled in protest, but soon other passengers began to do the same, stepping back as the seeing the looming bow was approaching fast, fearing the worst.

The Tug that was between the two lines threw another line on to the boat deck of The New York as the crew members grabbed a hold and tied it around the hook on the deck, securing it double time. The Tug then reversed, spitting up water from behind like a water fountain, as it tried to contain The New York before they collided. It was a success, with only a hairs width between the two liners as the Titanic was headed for the open ocean without a scratch on her.

"Thank-you." The young woman said, giving her daughter a once over. "You saved her life."

"It was nothing honestly," Catherine replied extending her hand, "My name's Catherine, and yours?"

"Sara and this is my daughter, Sasha."

Catherine eyed Charles in the crowd as he was pushing his way towards her, fear in his eyes, "I hope to see you both again." she stated and then took off back towards the center of the ship.

Sara grabbed Sasha's hand, pulling her through the crowds and towards the entrance from the poop deck that would take them back safely inside. If it wasn't for Catherine's bravery and quick thinking there was no telling what could have happened. Sara was paralyzed by fear when she saw the ocean liner drifting towards them.

"Wasn't that amazing!" Sasha stated, jumping up and down through the now deserted corridor, her doll swinging high into the air.

"Sasha, that was not amazing, that was frightening." Sara snapped. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulder, stopping them in the hall, "We were almost crushed by that other ship, and if it wasn't for Miss Catherine...who knows what could have happened." She rasped, tears welling in her eyes.

Sasha had never seen her mother so worked up before. She was a gentle soul, rarely raising her voice. There was only once time that Sasha could remember when she accidentally spilled ink all over her mother's favourite book. Sasha gave her mother a hug, nuzzling her face into her neck.

"It's okay Mama. I love you," She whispered hoping those words would mend her wounds.

Sara smiled, hugging her daughter tighter. "I love you too Sasha."

- 12:30 PM -

Catherine had evaded Charles, making it back to her deck, the adrenaline from what happened out on deck starting to wear off. She thought of the little girl and her mother who looked ashen with fear, wondering if she would ever see them again on this ship. They were of different classes, and on a ship as luxurious as this one, there was no doubt a clear class distinction line drawn. While trapped deep in thought she had bumped into the shoulder of Mr. Thomas Andrews who was in the midst of one of his walkabouts.

"Are you alright Miss?" He asked, grabbing her hand and feeling how cold it was. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Catherine took her head out of the clouds, feeling her cheeks flush, "Mr. Andrews, I-I'm so sorry. Yes, I'm quite alright." She stuttered, ashamed of her ignorance.

He extended his arm, "Allow me the pleasure of escorting you back to your stateroom."

Catherine was about to protest, her stateroom was only a few doors down, but decided to place nice, looping her's around his,"I would be honoured."

They fell into step, promenading the hall as they caught the eyes of jealous women and stubborn men of Titanic's elite "Pardon my manners, but I do not recognize you." He said, looking at Catherine, "But I must admit my mind is filled with blueprints, and not people these days."

"Quite understandable. My name is Catherine, Catherine Willows. I'm traveling to America with my mother."

"Ah yes, you are in Cabin B 5 if I'm not mistaken?"

Catherine was surprised, "How on earth did you know that?"

Mr. Andrews smiled, "Your mother is quite unforgettable," He remarked as Catherine bit her tongue, knowing she would be sequestered to her cabin for the rest of the voyage if she spoke ill of her mother to the mastermind behind the ship she loved so much. "May I ask your purpose for traveling to New York?"

Catherine frowned, "My mother and I are to meet with my Father's lawyers. He died suddenly last month."

Mr. Andrews frowned, genuine sorrow in his eyes, "I am so sorry to hear that Miss Willows. My condolences."

"Thank-you Mr. Andrews, our passage aboard your ship was a last minute decision. My father's lawyer's and investors refused to come to England, so for my mother to ensure she get's what she believes is rightfully her's, we are to leave our home." Catherine replied bitterly, and then flushed, "Excuse me, that was very rude of me to say."

Mr. Andrew's laughed, patting Catherine on her hand, "It's quite alright Miss Willows, you're secrets are safe with me." He paused, slowing their pace, "Are you and your mother traveling alone?"

Catherine smiled, narrowing her eyes, "Why do I get the feeling these questions are not just polite conversation?" She quipped.

Mr. Andrews laughed, his dimples gleaming, "You're quite intuitive Catherine. I would like to personally invite both you and your mother to the Captains table for dinner this evening. I have a nephew who is traveling with me that I feel would benefit from socializing with someone his own age." He offered, letting go of Catherine's arm as they stood outside her stateroom door.

"We would be delighted."

Mr. Andrews leaned down and kissed her hand. "Until this evening, Miss Willows."

"Mr. Andrews,"

She waited for him to turn down the hall, joining a group of socialites begging for his attention before entering her room. As soon as she stepped into the salon, her mother stopped pacing and rushed over, giving her daughter a tight embrace.

"Oh Catherine! I heard about what happened up on deck. I'm glad you're alright." Lady Willows stated squeezing her tighter. She then stepped back, searching for their manservant. "Where's Charles? He was supposed to be looking out for you."

"He must of gotten lost with the crowd." Catherine replied, not wanting Charles to get a nasty tongue lashing over nothing.

Catherine broke away from the embrace and sat in one of the winged chairs, looking at the artwork that her mother had placed on top the mantle to the fireplace. It was one of her least favourite pieces, a landscape of muddy colours that looking like a child's fingerprinting. She averted her gaze to the promenade as the cliff sides of Ireland move past, the only indication that the ship was moving at all.

"Well, I will still have a few choice words with him when he returns." Lady Willows quipped.

Catherine sighed, "Of course you will mother."

"Oh don't you start Catherine. Now, go and freshen up, I want us looking respectable as we acquaint ourselves with the ship at dinner this evening."

Catherine got up, walking towards her bedroom, "I ran into Mr. Andrews in the hall," She threw over her shoulder, stepping into her room.

Her mother was suddenly right on her heels, her anger channeled at Charles, was now on her, " You didn't think to tell me as soon as you arrived!"

"You didn't give me much of a chance to speak," Catherine retorted as she pulled a royal blue evening gown, white gloves, and a pair of simplistic heels out from the trunk. "He invited us to sit with him at the Captains table for dinner this evening."

Lady Willows squealed with excitement, "That is most splendid Catherine! Mr. Andrew's is quite the influential bachelor on board, and very rich. Dining with the designer of a ship that is going to make history is quite an honour."

Catherine spun, anger in her eyes, "Father isn't even rotted in the ground and you're already trying to look for 'new money'!" She snapped, eyes muddled with tears seeing the greed dripping from her mother's lips.

Lady Willows slapped Catherine across the cheek hard, leaving a red imprint in her skin. "Catherine Elizabeth, you take that back right now!"

Catherine grabbed the handle to the en suite bathroom, "To take it back would be to lie and lying is the one thing I will never, ever do for you." She yelled before slamming the door shut.

- 3:30 PM -

Sara and Sasha were finally settled into their stateroom. It was far from fancy, but was cleaner with beds more comfortable than they had ever had in their lives. After the events of the boat deck Sasha had drifted off to sleep, her doll clutched tightly in her arms. Sara sat on the edge of her bed, running her hands gingerly through Sasha's long brown locks, humming an old Irish tune her mother used to sing when she was Sasha's age. The more she looked at Sasha the more of her sister Alice she saw in her. A week from today, the day they were due to dock in New York, was both Sasha's eighth birthday and the anniversary of her sisters death,who died from complications during childbirth, getting to hold her daughter for only a few moments and making Sara a mother when she was only prepared to be an Aunt. Sara was the only mother Sasha knew, and it wasn't until her fifth birthday, when she gave Sasha the porcelain doll that once belonged to Alice, that she told the young girl the truth.

Sara thought a lot about Alice over the past few years, mostly every time she looked at the young girl Sara had to hold back tears for how much she looked like her deceased mother. Sara wondered if her sister would have done anything different raising Sasha, would she have taught her the ways of the world at the same time as learning to read and write? Would Alice make the daring trip across the pond to America? Probably not. Her sister loved England, never wanted to leave the cobblestone streets and pubs she frequented too much. For Sara a trip to America had always been a dream. She never liked the grungy streets of Liverpool with no opportunity to possibly strike it rich. America was nicknamed the land of opportunities in the newspapers for a reason and she intended to find out exactly what opportunities existed for a young woman such as herself.

Sara felt bad for Sasha, feeling like she was just along for the ride, and not fully understanding the real reasons why they left the only place that kept her close to her mother. The little girl was upset at first, but when Sara framed the journey as an adventure she got increasingly excited leading up to their departure.

Sasha stirred in her bed, opening her eyes to see her mother leaning against the basin, looking out the porthole as the sky was moving across the window, the ship swaying slightly in the ocean waves. She got up from her bed, peering out the porthole as Sara was filling a glass with water from a tap. It was the first time she was able to use running water, and was surprised at how clear it was.

"Mama! Come look!" Sasha yelled as Sara put her glass down,, joining her daughter at the porthole.

"It's beautiful sweetheart." Sara said grabbing her hand and trying to pull her from the window.

"No Mama watch!" Sasha insisted, pointing at the ocean, a fin was just barely breaking the caps of the waves in the ocean.

"Darling there's..." Sara began to say when a dolphin jumped out of the water right in front of their eyes.

Sasha squealed as it did it again, and again, as if it was attempting to race alongside the huge ocean liner. She clapped and giggled, looking at her mother who, for the first time since boarding, was smiling. She hugged the woman she thought of as a mother, feeling her warmth. Before they knew it they would be docked in New York City, ready to begin a real adventure.

- 6:00 PM -

Catherine had hid in her room until she knew her mother was gone, taking the time to unpack most of her belongings and deciding on what to wear to dinner. She had fallen asleep in her King sized bed, staring at the fabric canopy above, feeling the boat rock slightly on the waves. She had her music box open on her vanity, listening to the soft notes of Chopin, drifting her off to sleep.

An hour later she awoke to noises in the salon, knowing that her mother and Charles were discussing something. She looked at the clock, realizing it was time to get ready for dinner as she sat at her vanity, wiping the sleep from her eyes, removing her matted hair from their french braid and brushing the strands that fell to the center of her back. She grabbed her long hair and twisted it into a classic up-do, pinning it in place with rhinestone jeweled pins. Catherine removed the pink day dress as it pooled to her feet on the floor, feeling a slight chill on her skin from the cabin air. She grabbed her royal blue evening gown, one with a tight bodice that accentuated what needed to be, that brushed her ankles.

There was a slight knock at the door as Catherine adjusted herself in her dress, "Come in,' she called.

Charles entered with a smile, "Your mother wanted me to check and make sure you were dressed for dinner." He replied.

"I will be as soon as you tie this torture device."

Charles snickered, grabbing at the laces to the corset with his strong hands, pulling tight. He repeated this over and over again, each time Catherine sucked in a sharp breath, feeling her lungs compress.

"I hope my mother wasn't too rough on you." Catherine stated between gasps.

"Only the usual slap on the wrist." Charles replied, tying the laces into a neat bow that rested on the small of Catherine's back. "I'll never understand why women wear these."

Catherine turned as Charles tried to advert his eyes from her ample bosom that was now accentuated by the corset. Catherine giggled, seeing Charles blush, "I think you just discovered their purpose." She slipped on her white gloves, pulling the fabric to her elbows, "I take it you will be escorting us to dinner this evening?"

Charles cleared his throat, "Yes, my one chance to see how the other half live aboard this ship." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, exiting the room.

Catherine draped a necklace of rubies around her neck, and matching earring that sparkled in the lamp light to her room. She slipped her stocking feet into a pair of silver heels, the toes only visible above the hem of her dress. She quickly applied some finishing touches, sweeping bush on her cheeks and wetting her lips in ruby red lipstick giving herself one final once over the in the mirror.

The last time she cared enough about her appearance was her father's funeral, however Mr. Andrew's mention of is young nephew who would be at dinner tonight was a more jovial reason to take care into her appearance. The last time she attempted to woo a man was her ex-fiancee Edward. She believed she had found true love when her mother arranged for them to meet. Edward's father was a business partner of her's, and her mother wrongfully assumed that due to their common interests and social circles they would be a perfect match. Catherine insisted that they were not well together, but her mother was blinded by her need to treat her daughter like a princess and her father refused to stand her way. It wasn't until a week after their engagement when her father caught Edward shaking Catherine in the backyard that he saw what his daughter was trying to convey for months, deciding to break the engagement. A week after that, her father was dead.

Catherine closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, erasing those memories from her mind. She vowed to leave all that behind in England along with her father's decomposing corpse. She promised herself that she would not think of Edward, that this ship was to represent the present and future. She opened her bedroom door, entering the salon to see Charles standing by the fireplace in his tuxedo. The sight of him once more made the past drift away, seeing the smile on his lips and spark in his eyes. She knew he had an infatuation with her, had fawned over her since they were children, but Catherine could only see him as a brother, an ally in her battle against her mother.

Moments later Lady Willow's emerged from her room, dressed in an emerald green evening gown with a sheer black shawl draped over her shoulders. Her blonde curls were piled high atop her head with large diamond studs in her ears and around her neck. She gave her daughter a once over, smiling with approval as she approached Charles, her arm out for him to take.

Catherine could not help but notice her mother had removed her wedding band. "I see you're leaving father behind tonight, mother." She quipped as Charles tried to hide his smirk.

"I don't want to hear any of your selfish behaviour this evening. You are a young woman and you need to start acting like one." Lady Willows snapped.

Catherine bit her tongue, wanting to engage further, but knew that would only result in an early end to the night. They stepped out into the hall, as Charles's guided them down the hall towards the Grand Staircase. They slowly went down two flights of wooden stairs, nodding at other elegantly dressed men and women, making their way towards the First Class Dinning Hall. The stairs descended on either side, converging at a small landing. A beautiful clock was carved into the wooden wall with two Greek goddesses, one on either side, holding the clock in place. A wide oak banister ran down the middle, with a statue of child holding a lit torch at the end. They were on C Deck, joining a large group of wealthy men and women, fashionably dressed, all making their way to the dining hall.

A band was playing off to the side of the foyer, their music could be barely heard above the murmurs and laughter of guests. A manservant dressed in a white coat and black pants opened the glass french doors, allowing Catherine, Charles and her mother to enter the dinning hall. There were large, round tables that seated twenty plus people scattered throughout the room. Each was covered with a freshly pressed white table cloth, china plates and gold plated silverware. Identical wicker chairs were tucked underneath with the lights of the chandeliers above sparkling off the crystal glasses.

Anyone who was anyone in the England and America was aboard this ship, all wanting to be apart of history. To Catherine their faces began to blur, all men dressed in tuxedos next to women in elegant evening gowns. She was able to pick out a few faces, the most prominent being Mr. John Jacob Astor and his pregnant wife Madeline. She was due with their first born in the next few months. Mr. Astor was by far the richest man aboard the Titanic, an American Millionaire ready to return to New York and settle down with his family.

As they approached the captains table, Catherine noticed the Astor's would be joining them, along with Lady and Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon, a pair famous in the fashion industry, Mr. Benjamin Guggenheim, another bachelor millionaire, Mr. Bruce Ismay, the spokesperson for the White Star Line, and finally Mr. Thomas Andrews. Mr. Andrews smiled at Catherine, being the gentleman he was, he pulled out the chair next to him, allowing Lady Willows to sit there. Catherine rolled her eyes at the broad smile across her mother's lips in being personally selected to sit beside the designer of the Titanic. Catherine took the seat beside her mother, thanking Charles for the escort as he disappeared into the crowd of tuxedos. She looked across the table and noticed another single woman, Margret, or Molly Brown as she liked to be called, boarded at South Hampton, one of two additional stops the Titanic made this afternoon to pick up more passengers. She was large woman, both in statue and voice.

Catherine searched the table for Mr. Andrew's nephew and frowned when the first course of dinner was served but the seat to her right remained vacant. She met his gaze briefly as he shook his head with apologetic eyes. Catherine just smiled, looking down at her caviar, blinking back tears. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, the voices around her getting muffled. It was hard not to feel embarrassed and she really wanted out. She took a sip of champagne, a sick feeling brewing in the pit of her stomach.

Before the second course was served Catherine excused herself from the table, making her way through the sea of tables to a door that lead to the boat deck in desperate need of some fresh air.

- 6:30 PM -

After an afternoon of exploring the areas they were permitted, Sara brought Sasha to the dinning room for dinner. She expecting rows of benches and long wooden tables, so when she saw tables set for four to six people with table cloths and real silverware, she was astounded. It wasn't fine china like upstairs, but the plates were clean, the glass tumblers clear, and real, spit shined silverware, all embossed with the White Star Line logo. This dinning room was for the people on E and F deck only. Those on G deck had their own, smaller dinning room to avoid overcrowding.

They joined a table that had two males and two females sitting at it. The men were young, clearly traveling together as they spoke in French to one another while eyeing the women. The other young woman at the table had a young girl with her about the same age as Sasha.

"Do you mind if we sit here?" Sara asked with a smile, watching the little girl hide her face in the folds of the older woman's dress.

"Not at all. I'm August and this is my sister, Neleh." The young woman replied with a thick Irish accent.

"I'm Sara and this my daughter, Sasha."

"Pleasure to meet you. We're heading to America to live with our Aunt and Uncle." August explained, wrapping her arm around Neleh's small shoulders, "What brings you aboard this floatin' palace?"

"A fresh start." Sara said looking at the paper atop her plate.

It took her a moment to realize that was her menu card describing what they would be served. There meal was to be two courses. The first was beef with potatoes and beans, with a side of bread. The second was salad and a scoop of ice cream. Sara's mouth began to salivate, it had been months since she and Sasha had ate meat. To her, and probably everyone else in that room, meat was something you paid for if you didn't want to have a roof over your head for a month. This meal might not seem like much to in Second or First Class but for everyone here, this was a first class meal.

"Where's your cabin?" August asked as a plate of food was placed in front of her. The meat looked delectable as steam sizzled off the beans.

"F 37, and you?" Sara asked.

"F28, but, those two wankers across from us are our cabin mates. As you can see, my little sister is not fond of them."

Sara dug into her meat, feeling it cut with ease. It was cooked to perfection, placing a piece in her mouth and chewed, savoring every bite. Sasha was shoveling the potatoes into her mouth so fast Sara had to tell her to slow down.

"We have two extra bunks in our cabin, no one has come to claim them. You're welcome to them if you wish."

Neleh's eyes lit up at the thought of spending the voyage with a girl her own age, "Are you sure? We don't want to intrude." August asked.

"It would be no trouble at all."

August rested a hand on Sara's knee. "Thank-you, if not, I was going to have to give that man a black eye." She said, shifting her gaze to the man sitting across from them.

Sara followed her gaze, seeing one of the men had his eyes trained on August while licking his lips as if she were more appetizing than the food in front of him. Sara just nodded, looking back at her food and periodically glancing at the men sitting across from them. They may not speak English, but she was sure they could understand it.

T.B.C

Expect more updates soon! :)