A/N: Ok, this chapter is the start of Jo and Oliver's trip on titanic and I'm trying to make it as historically accurate as possible so please if I write anything that is totally impossible for 1912 please review and correct me.- Emerson
Chapter Four
Finally
For a moment I thought we had been caught. I was lying down, dim lighting hitting my throbbing face. I thought for sure I was back in my dormitory or in the infirmary, already bracing myself for the matron to burst in and begin threatening me. But then I notice the sunlight coming through the adjacent window, the round window.
I bolted upright, looking around the room franticly. This was not my room. This room had a dresser and a vanity with a large mirror. It had beautiful paneling on the walls and carpet on the floors. And on the bed where I lay, there was a blanket, I couldn't remember touching anything softer.
I got up off the bed, too afraid to be found laying on it. Had some kind and very wealthy pedestrian taken me in? It was possible, I thought, but only for a moment when I caught my reflection in the mirror.
It was me, but it wasn't me. It had the same flaming hair, the same quizzical eyes, and the same high cheek bones as Josephine Dawson, but there was something different about this person. Her marble skin was scrubbed clear of all grime and her lace frock was crisp and stain free. She looked taken care of, maybe even loved. I was even surprised when I went to touch my face; the other girl touched her face too. Then I had to remind myself, there is no other girl that is me! I walked closer to the mirror, admiring myself. I stoked my hair which no longer lay unkempt around my shoulders, but in long, glossy ringlets that dusted my waistline which was adorn with a large white bow.
I jumped about a mile high when the door opened, squinting my eyes as if it would make me evaporate into the air, but it didn't work because the woman acknowledge my presence, but not as I expected her to.
"Ah, you're awake, darling." A tall, slender woman with bushy brunette hair swept towards me. She wore the queerest outfit, a long, hight-waisted skirt and a frilly blouse. She pulled me close to her, stroking my head. I stood stiff as a board, not knowing whether to accept her affection or start asking questions.
"And you're already dressed, how lovely." She chimed, turning me towards the mirror, so she and I could see my striking reflection. She sighed. "Oh, my. Look at you, Winifred" She breathed, kissing my brow. "Only ten years old and already looking like a beautiful young woman. My little girl is growing up." She put her fine, gloved hand on my pale cheeks.
"Excuse me, but if you don't mind me asking... who are you?" I asked, feeling the women's actions were a little too close for my comfort. The women let out a high, amused laugh, taking the silver hairbrush off the vanity; she started to brush out my curls. I batted her away and turned to her. "I'm serious." I warned, taking the brush from her hands. "Who are you and why are you brushing my hair?"
"Oh Winifred, I do not have time for these childish games." She sighed. "You're almost a young woman, the least you could do is start acting like one!"
"Who is Winifred?" I inquired, backing away from the woman, who did nothing but advance toward me, and sit me down in the velvet vanity chair. She took the set of leather, gold clasped boots from the foot of the fireplace.
"Winifred, please, enough about your name, it suites you just fine." She looked exasperated with me. "At this rate we shall never make it to lunch on time." She took one of my ankles in her hands and shoved it in one boot. She seemed disgruntled, but I could tell she was enjoying this.
"Lady, I can put my own shoes on, thank you very much!" I glared at her, trying to burn her down with my famous stare, but she was impenetrable.
"First of all, Miss High and Mighty, it's mother to you and secondly, you may be old enough to dress yourself but you are certainly haven't aged enough to tell your mother off, is that clear?" I was taken aback by her. She was firm, but not cruel like the matron, in fact I almost felt like I had done something wrong.
"I'm sorry, mother." I replied warily.
"It's quite alright dear, just remember to keep that temper of yours in check when were at lunch! We don't want to display such impertinence as that in front of the Countess of Rothes!" She chortled warmly, beckoning for me to come and embrace her. I put on my left boot, got up and did so. Maybe if I went along with this mad woman's hallucination she could avoid being sent back to the orphanage, and find Oliver wherever he was.
"Mother May I ask one last silly question?" I asked, gazing up at her with the most innocent eyes. She looked down at me. Her face was totally foreign. She was definitely not my real mother.
"Go on, darling." She cooed, pressing my head to her waist.
"Where are we?" I couldn't help my voice cracking in fear and loneliness without Oliver.
"My goodness, child calm yourself! For we're on the grandest ship in the world! We're on the Titanic!"
"May I ask just one more question?" I pleaded with the lady as she steered me toward the dining hall which apparently was called The Palm Court Cafe instead. This was all too strange. How did I get on a ship without knowing it, where was Oliver and why did this crazy woman think I was her daughter?
"Fine, dear, you may keep asking your silly little questions but when we get to the cafe this game must end, are we clear?" I nodded feverently and started firing questions at her, letting her pull me along like a puppy.
"What day is it? Why are we here? Where is this ship going?" And why is everyone dressed so funny?" I demanded at her, and she answered them with the utmost sincerity.
"Today is the 11th of April, 1912. We are here because we are traveling to New Haven, Connecticut in the States for a wedding. This ship will dock in New York on Wednesday the 17th and people are not dressed funny, Winifred, they are dressed like normal wealthy folk and I don't want you saying such things in a crowd is that understood?"
"But it doesn't make any sense!" I sobbed. "I was just in New York and it isn't April 1912, I wasn't even born then. It's December 1923, I'm positive!"
"Winifred, dear!" She stopped in front of the glass double doors, smiling pleasantly at the people who ambled past us. "What is the matter with you? You said you had a headache and went to lie down and then you wake up and suddenly you can't remember anything. "Are you ill, Winnie?" Nobody had ever asked me that question before.
"No, I'm perfectly fine! But my name isn't Winifred, its Josephine! And I'm sorry if this comes as a shock but April 1912 was over eleven years ago! Please tell me what's going on!"
"Alright Winifred, this needs to stop, now!" She whispered to me under her breath. "You will walk into that cafe and be my sweet, charming ten year old daughter, and after I am done socializing I will take you to the ship physician and I let him have a look at you!" She yanked me in front of her and dusted off my dress. "Now stand up straight, smile and don't speak unless spoken to."
"Yes, mother." I said, and she pushed open the doors and led me through the threshold into the airy, sunlit cafe.
It was the most beautiful room I'd ever been in, other than the bedroom where I had woken. People in the finest clothes were sitting in large wicker chairs around tables, chatting and drinking tea like a scene out of a novel. Large ornate windows let in the afternoon sunshine and the view of the sparkling ocean. There were potted plants everywhere that gave the feel of too much oxygen. Classical music played in the background adding to the ambiance.
"Ruth!" I heard the woman exclaim and she dragged me over to a large table where a small, fierce looking woman with frizzy scarlet hair was sitting with a bunch of other people, she turned around and exclaimed back. "Marjorie, how lovely it is to see you!"
"Do you mind if Winnie and I join you?" Marjorie added hopefully. "If it's not too much trouble."
"No, do sit." She said, amiably, motioning towards the two empty wicker chairs. I went to sit down in the chair, when the woman grabbed my arm looking horrified.
"Winifred dear, young ladies do not seat themselves." She corrected. "Let Mr. Hockley seat you, you don't mind do you Caledon?" I froze. A man on the other side of the table winked at me. He had tousled dark hair, a strong chin below full lips and dark, cunning eyes. His voice was deep and almost alluring.
"Well, well." He said slowly, pulling out the chair beside him. "Aren't you a little Rose if I ever saw one, look, sweet pea, I do believe I've found your twin." A young woman sitting next to looked up. And I almost fainted.
She had the same glossy bright red curls as I, falling around her face in the exact same way mine did, all over the place. Her complexion was the fairest I'd ever seen, and she had a cigarette hanging out of her full red lips which were almost identical to mine. Overall, she was stunning and if anyone in the world looked enough like me to be my mother, it would be her.
"Yes, Oh my goodness, they could be sisters!" My mother laughed, the woman, Ruth, laughed with her. I have no idea where she gets the hair from," added my mother, Are you sure you aren't missing another daughter, Ruth?" The woman Ruth put her hands on the young woman's shoulders, which seemed to stiffen. She looked at me with piercing eyes but they weren't mean, just interested.
"If Rose wasn't so young I swear they might pass for mother and daughter!" Ruth added. She read my mind.
"Excuse me mother, but do I know these people?" The woman gasped.
"Oh, yes I forgot! Most of you probably haven't met my little girl, Winifred. Winifred," She said going round the table, "the man with the dark mustache is Mr. Ismay, he owns this ship." He smiled at me like I was some four year old before taking a sip from his glass. "Over there is Mr. Andrews, he built this ship in all its glory." Mr. Andrews, a grey haired man with a kind face winked at me, but it was different than Caledon's wink. It was less condescending and more easing. "Margaret Brown," She added hastily, motioning towards a hefty woman who put down her fork and shook my hand.
"Nice ta meet ya, Winnie." She greeted, "Wow, you really do look like Rose. I'm sure your quite the heartbreaker already, huh." She raised her glass to me. I giggled. Another person I already liked.
"And of course, this is my good friend, Ruth Dewitt Bukator, her daughter, Rose and her daughters fiancé, Mr. Hockley." turned to me and smirked. So this was the owner of the coat? He didn't look too bad but there was an air about him that I didn't care for. I tried to stare him down but like this woman he too could not be broken by it.
"So are you by chance a little spitfire, also?" He asked, testing the bounce one of my stray curls, playfully.
"Cal, please your scaring the poor thing." Rose added, coldly. Blowing a ring of smoke out with her perfect lips. Smoke wafted over my way and I coughed a bit. My mother patted my back and gave Ruth a meaningful look.
"You know I don't like that, Rose." She said coolly to her daughter. Rose just looked at her. She put the cigarette to her lips before exhaling her smoky breath in her mother's face. I adored her already. Now I knew she was my real mother. Not only did she have the same looks but the same defiant, independence..
"She knows." Said Cal, snatching the cigarette from Rose's lips. Rose looked affronted but she said nothing. Margaret Brown gave Cal a withering stare from across the table.
"We'll both have the lamb. Rare with very little mint sauce." He told the waiter who had materialized by his side. "You like lamb, right, Sweet Pea." He asked Rose, as if it was a rhetorical question. Rose smiled at her fiancé and nodded slightly.
"You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Cal?" Molly asked in amusement. Cal stared just stared at her, in obvious discomfort.
This was going nowhere. I knew Oliver had to be here too. He was with me when I blacked out after all. He had to be here somewhere; all I had to do was slip away from this woman for awhile, enough time to search for him.
"Mother, I really...I really don't feel well." I groaned, trying my best to look seriously ill. I put my hands on my stomach and gave a soft moan.
"All right, dear. I suppose we could go back to the state room if you're feeling that poorly." She looked reluctant to leave.
"No, no, mother. You stay here and mingle; I can find my way back to our room myself." I reassured her, getting up out of my seat. Cal motioned to pull it out for me but I beat him to it, sneering at him, just a little. Rose saw me and sniggered.
"Alright, Winnie, If you insist. I'll see you in a little while. Feel better, Darling!" She called after me as I scampered a little too eagerly out of the Palm Court. Once I made it into the corridor I sighed. Finally, I was alone, a whole ship to explore. I just hoped that somewhere on this gigantic vessel, Oliver was looking for me too.
A/N: Ok, that was a little dull but please review, give me some tips? Next chapter has a lot of Jack in it! I'm really excited to write it because I love Jack because he's an artist like me! Please be kind. - Emerson
