A/N - I had a alot of fun writing this chapter. There really isn't much to say beyond that, except that you can probably see why I split this from the chapter before. Kate and Jim are ridiculously satisfying to write dialogue for. Their voices just seem to... happen. Anyhoo, I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it! Huge thanks to everyone who's read the story so far - it means a lot!
After dinner, Jim agreed to join Roger in the third class General Room for a game of cards. There was nothing to bet but bragging rights and a few scattered coins, but that didn't seem to stop anyone. In fact, within a few hours, the small game between Roger, Jim and two other men had evolved into something of an impromptu tournament.
Jim, for his part, had folded ages before. Usually he was quite good at Poker, being blessed with an ability to compose his features into a mask of near permanent impassiveness, but tonight he found it hard to concentrate and rather than getting himself good and properly trounced, Jim opted to back out. After all, he had nearly five days left to spend with these fellows; there'd be plenty of time for him to beat their sorry arses later on.
Alternating between watching the two final players – an Irishman named Patrick Dooley and a burly Croatian fellow called Ivan Strilic – attempt to bore holes in each other with the power of their eyes, and observing the rest of the room, Jim decided that nights like this wouldn't be so hard to take. The General Room was easily the social hub of third class and it seemed that nearly all of steerage had settled there to pass the rest of the evening. Merry voices filled the air, laughing and chattering amongst themselves in more languages than Jim could even begin to name. Children chased each other, shrieking with glee, in and out of the rows of teak benches, while their mothers exchanged harried looks and rolled eyes. Families and friends and new acquaintances alike sat together laughing and swapping stories, while someone – Jim couldn't see who – tinkered around on the piano. It was a pleasant, welcoming atmosphere and Jim thought it felt a little bit like home.
The trio of Kates were there was well; Jim had spotted them almost the moment they'd stepped into the room. Kate McGowan's unruly curls were easy to pick out of a crowd. She was seated across the room from the raucous mob that surrounded the poker game engaged in animated conversation with Mullins and Murphy, a pair of nearly identical blond girls and few other, apparently single ladies whom Jim didn't recognise. Jim found his eye getting pulled to that corner more often than anywhere else, a fact that did nothing but annoy him. He told himself that it wasn't just because Kate was over there, that it was more because that group of women was the largest and most vocal of any other in the room, save for the audience of the card game.
Jim had nearly convinced himself that this was true when Kate suddenly got up from her seat. From his constant glances in that direction, Jim had noticed her getting progressively quieter as the evening wore on. Now she had an odd pinched expression on her face, one that she was almost managing to hide but not quite. Jim watched her say something to her friends, watched the other girls nod and wave and then watched Kate hurry away.
Frowning, Jim abandoned his own chair and headed after her. Later, he would wonder what on Earth had possessed him to do such a thing, but at that moment the thought never crossed his mind. He simply felt that someone ought to check on her and it may as well be him.
Kate wasn't hard to find. Jim wasn't sure if she had gone up on deck or down below to the cabins, but he suspected the former. Sure enough, the moment he stepped out on the aft well deck, Jim spotted her standing at the starboard-side rails. As he approached, Jim could see how hard she was grasping the railing, her head bent and her eyes closed.
"Oi there," Jim said, once he was within hearing distance, "Ye all right?"
Apparently she'd not heard him coming because Kate gasped in surprise and jumped about a foot, cracking one wrist hard against the uppermost railing, "Bleedin' Christ, where the Hell'd you come from?" Kate exclaimed, shaking out her hand with a hiss of pain; "What d'ye mean by sneakin' up on me like that?"
Jim grimaced, "Sorry, I figured ye heard me comin'." He gestured to her newly bruised wrist, "Did ye hit it very hard?"
"Nah, it's fine." Kate replied with the tiniest wince. Finally she seemed to register that it was Jim who had joined her up on deck and she frowned as though confused about how he'd come to be there, "Thought ye were playin' cards with the lads."
Her voice had an odd quality to it, as though she were talking through clenched teeth. Taking a closer look, Jim could see that she didn't look entirely right either; her face was pale with a faint greenish tinge around the edges. Ignoring her comment, Jim said, "Jesus, what's wrong with you then?"
Kate rubbed the bridge her nose and squinted up at him, "Well there's a nice greetin' te give a woman." She said drily.
Refusing to let her sidetrack him, Jim raised one eyebrow and said, "Yer the colour of yer blouse." He tugged gently on one of her white sleeves to illustrate the point, "Ye seasick after all?"
For some reason the question seemed to bother her. Kate turned away from him, leaning heavily on the rails once more, "No I'm not; it isn't that." She said, in that same tight voice.
Jim shrugged, "Homesick then?"
Kate peered up at him sideways for a moment and then seemed to decide that he wasn't going to leave. She sighed, "Not that either." Straightening she tucked a stray curl behind one ear and attempted a weak smile, "Nothin' but a case of too much excitement and rich food I expect."
She was a very good liar, Jim decided. Perhaps the food – which had been a good deal heartier than anything most of their class was used to – did have something to do with why she was up here looking like she was about to be sick, but that wasn't all of it. Jim tried not to show his skepticism, but he could feel his brows knitting in spite of his efforts. This marked the second time that day that he'd been sure she was hiding something, the first having occurred when he'd inquired after her sudden departure from home. Jim wasn't even sure what was giving her away – something in her eyes perhaps – but he felt positive that Kate was not being entirely truthful.
Still, Jim couldn't see the point of pushing the issue, especially when she looked to be about five second from vomiting on his shoes, "Aye, must be that." Lying about the cause or not, the fact was she was still sick and Jim couldn't help but be concerned. "Ye gonna be all right? I'll take ye te find the doctor if ye want,"
"Lord no," Kate said with a little laugh, "I'll be fine. Just need some air and it'll pass." A thought seemed to occur to her and she suddenly looked sly. A slow, crooked smile spread across her face and she asked; "Jim Farrell, did you come up here te check on me?"
Jim made a face, considered denying it completely, and finally settled for saying, "Could be," in as offhand a voice as he could muster. It couldn't be disputed that Jim felt slightly responsible for Kate but he wasn't about to come right out and admit it. Besides, she seemed the type determined to look out for herself and Jim didn't want to insult her pride by saying the wrong thing.
Apparently his response was the correct one because Kate looked happy with the statement and made no move to admonish him. "Well… thank ye." She said and, for a fraction of a second, appeared almost shy. So fast that Jim was sure he'd imagined it, the look was gone, "I don't want te keep ye from yer game though Jim. Ye can go if ye want, I'm all right here by m'self."
"Eh, I wasn't playin' anymore anyway." Jim replied with a one-shouldered shrug, "And Ivan's gonna win; he's the better bluffer. So I s'pose I'll just stay here – if ye have no objection o' course." He added hastily.
"Ye can stay." Kate said, and this time the bashful look was unmistakable, though almost as fleeting as the first had been. For some unknown reason Jim felt stupidly pleased by this reaction. She already seemed better – the green cast to her skin had receded leaving her looking only a few degrees paler than usual – but still she circled her midsection with one arm and said, "Go on and distract me 'til I feel like m'self again."
Jim pondered this request, "I s'pose I can manage that." He decided with a smirk, "What kind o' distraction are ye looking fer?"
Kate mirrored his twist of a smile with one of her own and shifted so that her back was braced against the railings, "Tell me somethin' about yerself. Somethin' I don't know."
"Ye don't actually know anythin' about me." Jim reminded her.
"Oh aye?" Kate replied, with a lift of her brows, "D'ye think that?" Jim opened his mouth to confirm that yes, yes he did think that, only to snap his jaw shut the next instant. Actually, he felt as though he'd known Kate for far longer than he had – a time that, in reality spanned less than twelve hours. Kate nodded, "Exactly," she said, though he had not spoken.
Shaking his head as though to rid it of this mysterious exchange, Jim said, "Well… say what ye will, that's still an awful broad range o' topics. Ye got any particular thing in mind?"
Kate thought through her options and finally said, "Yer fam'ly. Tell me about them."
"I've a lot o' sisters." Jim replied immediately as this was the thing he felt most defined his household, "Five of 'em. I'm an only son."
This drew a surprised laugh from Kate, "And I'm an only daughter." She said, with a smile that crinkled her eyes, "Only I got four brothers, not five. Are ye the oldest as well?"
"No Clara's older." Jim said, "But most times I feel like she's not. I look out fer her as much as I do the younger ones, even though she's married now an' would prob'ly give me a good knock about the head fer sayin' so." Jim shot Kate a conspiratorial half-smile and added, "But that's only because she knows it's true."
Kate laughed again and Jim noticed that the colour was beginning to return to her face. "Yer close then? You an' yer sisters?"
Jim nodded, "Aye. Livin' as we do, poor an' all, ye can't help but be. Ye know how it is."
"Not really." Kate said softly. Jim looked at her curiously but she didn't meet his eyes. Scuffing one boot against the wooden planks of the deck, she explained, "My brothers…well… I expect I embarrass 'em a bit. Because I don't act like a proper girl."
This statement was so absurd that Jim didn't even know how to respond. It was true that Kate was unburdened by the careful reticence that most young women chose to present themselves with, but that hardly marked her as improper. In fact, Jim thought it made her rather more tolerable than the silly, giggly, delicate, swooning types that were a two-a-penny these days. He would have told Kate as much had she not continued speaking.
"I never could figure 'em out; the way they're all so content te stay exactly as they are, never even tryin' te amount te anythin' more." Kate shrugged, "All of 'em, completely happy with bein' nothin's fer the rest o' their days. Even little Michael- eleven years old and blindly followin' exactly the same path as the others with no question at all."
Jim frowned, "Well I s'pose I'm a bit like that." He said, feeling mildly offended that she should think so lowly of people who understood the futility of trying to aspire beyond their means.
Kate looked at him sideways and shook her head, "No Jim, yer not a thing like them."
For reasons that he couldn't rightly explain, Jim felt annoyed by her inability to accept that he didn't see things the way she did, "Forgive me Kate McGowan but despite what ye say ye hardly know me. Stop assumin' that ye understand exactly what's in my head."
"I assume no such thing Jim Farrell." Kate snapped back, pushing her shoulders back indignantly, "But just the fact that yer on this ship at all makes ye worlds diff'rent from my brothers and the fact that yer up here talkin' te me, when ye could be down below with any number of other people proves that even more. Unless ye want te leave now and have nothin' more te do with me in which case go right on an' prove me wrong."
Jim, of course, had no intention of leaving, but he kept silent just long enough to make her wonder if he would. When he saw her haughty expression falter and a shadow of uncertainty pass over her face, Jim dropped the act and said, "Well, ye do know that I wouldn't be on this ship either if I didn't think that goin' te America was the only thing left fer me te do."
Kate, who no longer looked as though she was the least bit concerned that she'd driven him off, said drily, "I'd figured as much, aye." She fussed with the waistband of her skirt, smoothing the material beneath her fingers, "But te the McGowan men leavin' Ireland isn't an option at all. They've always thought I was plumb outta me mind fer wantin' te leave."
"Thought ye said it was sudden, you leavin'?" Jim said, scratching under the brim of his cap.
"I said gettin' this ticket was sudden," Kate corrected him, "But not me wantin' te go. I've been waitin' te make this trip fer as long as I've known that such a thing was possible." She glanced at him thoughtfully, as though searching for some acknowledgement that this dream of hers wasn't completely ridiculous. After a moment she sighed, "But I s'pose ye don't understand that."
But Jim did understand, at least a little. He knew what it was like to want something that badly. The only difference was Kate still believed that it could happen, and Jim…well… he had given up long ago. He smiled - a tiny wistful excuse for a smile - and said, "I guess not."
Kate looked hard at him then, not the curious sidelong glances she'd been shooting him for most of the night. Jim met her stare and though it was not the first time that he'd got the feeling that Kate really did know exactly what was in his head, it was the first time that he thought he might have some idea what was going on in hers. In that odd moment it came to him that perhaps they understood each other better than either of them was willing to admit. Kate tilted her head to one side and a smile ghosted across her face before she broke eye contact, turning to face out to the ocean.
"Ye know, I was actually plannin' te leave next year," She said, as though the conversation had never paused, "Had it all worked out."
Following her lead, Jim crossed his arms over the top of the railings and watched the reflection of the moon dance across the inky waves, "Aye? So how'd ye end up here then?"
Kate shrugged and shifted her weight, the only sign that the question made her uncomfortable, "Nothin' ever goes as planned does it? Things change." She pursed her lips, lost in some private thought, and Jim wondered if she'd ever tell him what it was. "But maybe in the end everythin' turned out te be all right. If I'd've left when I'd planned te, I wouldn't have got tickets fer the Titanic. And now I get te travel te America on the most beautiful ship the world's ever seen, and on her maiden voyage no less." She grinned at him, her usual demeanour completely restored, "You an' me Jim, we get te be a little part o' history. Even you've gotta admit that's somethin'"
Jim chuckled and shook his head in resignation, "Aye, I s'pose it is at that."
"Sure 'tis." Kate replied, "So it's not so bad, plans changin'. I get te see this ship after all, plus I'd not've met Mullins or Murphy otherwise. Or you." She added as almost an after thought, though Jim knew perfectly well she'd done it intentionally. Picking absently at her cuticles, Kate continued with a rueful smile, "'Course, you might've preferred that – not havin' me talkin' yer head clean off ev'ry second of the trip."
Jim almost laughed, thinking that she was teasing but stopped short when he caught sight of how determinedly she was examining her hands rather than meet his eyes. "No," He said nonchalantly, as though he hadn't realised that she was serious, "No, I'm glad yer on this trip. Be dull as dirt otherwise."
Kate turned to him in surprise, a smile breaking over her face like the sun coming up. She's lonely, Jim realised suddenly, the thought coming to him clear as crystal; lonely and a little bit scared as well. Jim thought of his own family; they would be sitting around the fire at home right about then and no doubt they'd be speculating on his well-being, hoping that he was managing all right without them. He wondered if any of Kate's brothers were thinking about her, or if he, Jim, was the only other person in the world worrying about this poor brave girl. She must have felt terribly alone.
"Yer a big flatterer Jim Farrell," Kate said, even though she had to know perfectly well by then that Jim wasn't one to say anything without meaning it. She was still smiling. Folding her arms across her chest, Kate shivered a little, "It's gotten a bit chill, hasn't it? I guess it's time I go back below 'fore I catch my death."
"Ye feelin' better then?" Jim asked. He had all but forgotten the initial reason he'd gone looking for her.
Kate nodded emphatically, "Oh aye, I'm right as rain now, thank ye." She grinned at him, then seemed to realise that she was supposed to be leaving, "Well, I'm off." She hesitated, "Ye comin'?"
Jim smiled and almost said yes, but at the last second changed his mind, "I think I'm gonna stay up an' have a smoke 'fore I turn in."
Wrinkling her nose a little at the mention of the cigarette, Kate said, "All right, then I s'pose I won't see ye 'til tomorrow. G'night Jim."
"G'night." Jim watched her go, disappearing into the warmth of the ship. Once she was completely out of sight, he pulled a snuff box from an interior pocket of his coat, rolled himself a cigarette and turned back to watching the water roll by.
Yellow light from the Titanic's many portholes and white light from the moon and stars stitched themselves through the black quilt of the ocean; silver, gold and pitch. Jim thought about what Kate had said, about being a small part of history. He shook his head; on a night like this, he could almost – almost but not quite – buy into her fanciful talk, her big dreams. Life, it seemed, still had the capacity to surprise him, and that, perhaps, was the biggest surprise of all.
Jim blew a wreath of smoke out into the night and watched the wind catch hold and blow it out to sea. "We'll see, won't we?" He said out loud, not even entirely sure what he meant by it, "We'll just wait and see."
