4
IANTO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
As he undresses for bed Ianto sees Lee standing in his doorway, reflected in the cracked mirror of his vanity. He comes toward him.
Lee is unexpectedly tender "I know you've been melancholy, and I don't pretend to know why."
From behind his back he hands him a black velvet jewel case. Ianto takes it, numbly.
"I intended to save this till the engagement gala next week. But I thought tonight, perhaps a reminder of my feeling for you..."Lee says softly and Ianto slowly opens the box. Inside is a pocket watch of immense beauty. The face of it inside the opened case shines like a… a…
"My God... Lissy. Is it a…"
"Diamond. Yes it is. 56 carats." He turns Ianto to the mirror, staring behind him. "I had it made just for you, for your love of these things."
"Lee, it's... it's overwhelming." He gazes at the image of the two of them in the mirror.
"It's for royalty. And we are royalty." Lee smiles as his fingers caress Ianto's neck and throat as he explores the pale skin exposed with just a thin singlet between them. He seems himself to be disarmed by Ianto's elegance and beauty. His emotion is, for the first time, unguarded. "There's nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I'd deny you if you would deny me. Open your heart to me, Ianto."
Of course his gift was only to reflect light back onto himself, to illuminate the greatness that was Lisant Hallett. It was a cold stone... a heart of ice.
The gleaming new Titanic of 1912, at the end of the enclosed promenade Ianto walks into the sunlight. He is stunningly dressed and walking with purpose.
As if I hadn't felt the sun in years.
It is Saturday April 13, 1912. Ianto unlatches the gate to go down into third class. The steerage men on the deck stop what they're doing and stare at him.
The Third Class General Room is the social centre of steerage life. It is stark by comparison to the opulence of first class, but is a loud, boisterous place. There are mothers with babies, kids running between the benches yelling in several languages and being scolded in several more. There are old women yelling, men playing chess, girls doing needlepoint and reading dime novels. There is even an upright piano and Tommy Ryan is noodling around it.
Three boys, shrieking and shouting, are scrambling around chasing a rat under the benches, trying to whomp it with a shoe and causing general havoc. Jack is playing with 5 year old Cora, drawing funny faces together in his sketchbook.
Owen is struggling to get a conversation going with an attractive Norwegian girl, Helga Dahl, sitting with her family at a table across the room.
"No Italian? Some little English?"
"No, no. Norwegian. Only." Helga's eye is caught by something. Owen looks, does a take... and Jack, curious, follows their gaze to see... Ianto, coming toward them. The activity in the room stops... a hush falls. Ianto feels suddenly self-conscious as the steerage passengers stare openly at this prince, some with resentment, others with awe. He spots Jack and gives a little smile, walking straight to him. He rises to meet him, smiling.
"Hello Jack".
Owen and Tommy are floored. It's like the slipper fitting Cinderella.
"Hello again."
"Could I speak to you in private?"
"Uh, yes. Of course. After you." He motions him ahead and follows. Jack glances over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, as he walks out with him leaving a stunned silence.
Jack and Ianto walk side by side. They pass people reading and talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glance curiously at the mismatched couple. He feels out of place in his rough clothes. They are both awkward, for different reasons.
"So, you got a name by the way?" Jack finally asks.
"Ianto. Ianto Jones." Ianto glaces at him. "Mr. Harkness, I…"
"Jack."
"Jack... I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you." Ianto sighs.
"Well, here you are." Jack grins.
"Here I am. I... I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for... for pulling me back. But for your discretion."
"You're welcome. Ianto."
"Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich boy. What does he know about misery?" Ianto scoffs as he faces him.
"That's not what I was thinking." Jack's voice is gentle, as are his eyes "What I was thinking was... what could have happened to hurt this man so much he thought he had no way out."
"I don't... it wasn't just one thing. It was everything. It was them, it was their whole world. And I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber." Ianto explains in a rush "I just had to get away... just run and run and run... and then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship... even the Titanic wasn't big enough. Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious. I'll show them. They'll be sorry!"
"Uh huh. They'll be sorry." Jack agrees, "Course you'll be dead."
Ianto lowers his head "Oh God, I am such an utter fool."
"That penguin last night, is he one of them?"
"Penguin? Oh, Lee! He is them."
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"Worse I'm afraid." he shows him the engagement ring. A sizable diamond.
"Gawd look at that thing! You would have gone straight to the bottom."
They laugh together. A passing steward scowls at Jack, who is clearly not a first class passenger, but Ianto just glares him away.
"So you feel like you're stuck on a train you can't get off 'cause you're marryin' this fella." Jack surmises.
"Yes, exactly!"
Jack frowns with confusion "So don't marry him."
"If only it were that simple."
"It is that simple."
"Oh, Jack... please don't judge me until you've seen my world." Ianto looks away as his hurt shows.
"Well, I guess I will tonight."
Looking for another topic, any other topic, Ianto indicates his sketchbook. "What's this?"
"Just some sketches."
"May I?" Ianto asks with genuine interest. The question is rhetorical because he has already grabbed the book. He sits on a deck chair and opens the sketchbook… each one an expressive little bit of humanity: an old woman's hands, a sleeping man, a father and daughter at the rail. The faces are luminous and alive. His book is a celebration of the human condition. "Jack, these are quite good! Really, they are."
"Well, they didn't think too much of 'em in Paree." Jack huffs. Some loose sketches fall out and are taken by the wind. Jack scrambles after them... catching two, but the rest are gone, over the rail.
"Oh no! Oh, I'm so sorry. Truly!" Ianto wails.
"Well, they didn't think too much of 'em in Paree." Jack repeats. He snaps his wrist, shaking his drawing hand in a flourish. "I just seem to spew 'em out. Besides, they're not worth a damn anyway."
For emphasis he throws away the two he caught. They sail off.
Ianto is laughing now "You're deranged!"
He goes back to the book, turning a page. "Well, well..."
He has come upon a series of nudes. Ianto is transfixed by the languid beauty he has created. His nudes are soulful, real, with expressive hands and eyes. They feel more like portraits than studies of the human form...almost uncomfortably intimate. Ianto blushes, raising the book as some strollers go by. Trying to be very adult Ianto asks calmly "And these were drawn from life?"
"Yup. That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls willing take their clothes off." Jack laughs without a care.
Ianto studies one drawing in particular, the girl posed half in sunlight, half in shadow. Her hands lie at her chin, one furled and one open like a flower, languid and graceful. The drawing is like an Alfred Steiglitz print of Georgia O'Keefe. "You liked this woman. You used her several times."
"She had beautiful hands."
"I think you must have had a love affair with her..." Ianto teases softly.
Laughing Jack splutters "No, no! Just with her hands."
Looking up from the drawings Into meets his gaze "You have a gift, Jack. You do. You see people."
"I see you." There it is. That piercing gaze again.
"And...?"
"You wouldn'ta jumped."
.
.
.
RECEPTION ROOM / D-DECK
Rhiannon is having tea with Noel Lucy Martha Dyer-Edwardes, the Countess of Eothes a 35ish English blue-blood with horse-like features. Rhiannon sees someone coming across the room and lowers her voice. "Oh no, that vulgar Cooper woman is coming this way. Get up, quickly before she sits with us."
Gwen Cooper walks up, greeting them cheerfully as they are rising. "Hello girls, I was hoping I'd catch you at tea."
"We're awfully sorry you missed it. The Countess and I are just off to take the air on the boat deck." Rhiannon replies snottily.
"That sounds great. Let's go. I need to catch up on the gossip."
Rhiannon grits her teeth as the three of them head for the Grand Staircase to go up.
Gwen has a moment of triumph and knows it.
