The bar buzzed with raucous laughter, glasses clinking, shoes scuffing the beaten floors. Penny narrowed her eyes over a hand of cards, casting a sidelong glance a Bernadette and almost laughing at her terrible attempt at a poker face.
The two men across the table muttered to each other, one chewing a toothpick, the other drumming dirty nails against the table. They were worried.
Penny and Bernadette had been hunched at the table for hours, sipping whiskey and fighting to win their freedom in the form of tickets to America on the RMS Titanic. Freedom from the cold of England and the uncertainty of poverty. Their blonde hair tucked up inside tattered pageboy hats, dirt on their faces and loose calico shirts hiding their figures; they had introduced themselves as Pete and Ben, young boys trying their hand at poker in a crowded dockside bar. At first they'd been scoffed at, but now with tickets on the table and the final hand of cards being held with bated breath, they could feel the other patrons respect.
Penny had spent her childhood with her brother and his friends. They would come back from the mill every afternoon and sit on the porch smoking, drinking and playing cards. Penny, who was never the young lady her mother longed for her to be, learned quickly how to play poker, stomach spirits and take a drag without coughing.
She had always thought herself street-smart enough to live independently; and with her parents busy working the farm, and both her brother and sister married, she had left for the city of Southampton at seventeen. She knew that pretty girls from families like hers ended up married by nineteen and raising babies on a farm, just like her mother. She wanted better things; she wanted fame and fortune, jewels and a life of luxury.
Southampton had been a cold, dreary reality check. With no real schooling, no skills and no plan in mind, she had ended up sweeping the ovens of a bakery in exchange for a roof over her head and two small meals each day. She wound up sharing the small back room with Bernadette Rostenkowski, a girl her own age and just as penniless as she. They were downtrodden and poor, but Penny had a plan to get to America and become a star, and her enthusiasm was contagious. They lay in bed at night imagining their life as Broadway stars, marrying millionaires, wearing fur coats and high heeled shoes.
As most down on their luck girls did, they took jobs at Madame Clara's - a seedy brothel disguised only by a classy name. The money they earned went in a biscuit tin under Penny's bed until it could buy them their way out of Southampton. They drank, they slept with married men, they swept ovens and they slept under thin blankets.
And now they were here, staring down two half-drunk middle aged men, sick with nerves.
Penny drew her last card and squared her shoulders.
"A'ight fellas," she growled, keeping her voice low, "hands down, someone's gettin' on that boat"
She turned to Bernadette, "Ben?"
Bernadette shook her head, dropping a hand of mismatched cards and shrugging apologetically.
The man to the left of Bernadette, with a toothpick between his teeth, dropped his hand - three of a kind. His companion followed suite with a straight.
Bernadette sighed, defeated.
Penny grinned, seeing the men's jaws drop as she slapped her cards down.
"In your honor, boys," she smirked "a Royal Flush"
The silence that followed was charged with tension. The men's faces, awestruck, as they tried to comprehend their loss; and Bernadette slowly lifting her hand to her mouth, shaking with excitement
"Oh my god," she gasped, forgetting to mask her voice "we're going to America!"
The girls jumped up, sending their chairs reeling backwards onto the rough hardwood. Penny grabbed the tickets and pocketed a handful of money, snatching up her rucksack before either man could grab her and punch the precious tickets out of her hand.
"Bernie, let's go!" she hollered, racing out the door, thankful that her disguise meant wearing pants and not her usual long dress
"We'll never make it!" Bernadette panted as she followed close behind, the horns of the ship bellowing overhead
They ploughed through the crowds of people, pushing dainty women and indignant men, lungs bursting and bags slapping their thighs. Screaming and jumping, pumping their fists in the air. Tossing their tickets to the guard, they ran on board, heading for the crowded decks.
People were packed against the railings, waving and crying. They pushed through the crowd, pressing against the barrier and snatching off their hats; waving frantically, hair flowing long and golden behind them.
"We're going to America, Bernie!" Penny screamed, throwing an arm around her friend, "I'm going to be famous! We're gonna be stars!"
Bernadette didn't say anything, only grinning as she waved, tears pooling in her eyes. She couldn't remember ever being this happy.
Penny knew they looked ridiculous - boy's clothes, knotty hair, dirty faces - but she didn't care. She was going to make something of hers