Chapter eight, awoooo!

I'd like to thank everyone that's reviewed this story so far; I really appreciate it! 'turtles-rock' raised an issue "It's almost unrealistic that Jack and Rose haven't met yet, since it's a small town and all..." and I understand where you're coming from… and I justify this point with the fact that there are about two thousand people living in Chippewa Falls and that Jack's farm is quite hidden away and since he doesn't leave often, the likeliness of him running into Rose is slim. So, in my story, they haven't. And since Jack's now left… well, you'll have to read and find out!

Thanks, and enjoy!


"Mmmhmm, just bacon and tomato; you know how I feel about lettuce, Stanley!"

"Only too well, Winnie; I'll never make that mistake again!"

Winnie and the tall, slim waiter shared a chuckle as he collected both her and Rose's menus. Rose watched the exchange and wondered just how everyone in Chippewa Falls seemed to know each other and how they all seemed to have an individual story, or experience or private joke with each individual person. In the month since arriving in the small town, Rose had begun to feel as though she fitted in. People had accepted her as the stranger visiting the birthplace of a late friend; people no longer pried into her business here or raised an eyebrow at her clearly upper-class accent and mannerisms. Every day since she'd arrived she'd felt Jack's presence strongly near her, as though he was showing her around his hometown himself, and Rose felt strangely comforted by the thought.

She'd originally been planning to spend the day alone; perhaps a solitary walk by the lake to clear her head, but when Winnie had arrived at the guest house early to speak with Dorothy about something that escalated into a long debate about knitting patterns, she had agreed to go out to lunch with her. Café Manitoba, Rose discovered, was Winnie's favourite eating place and the pair had walked together from the boarding house, through the town square and down one of the cobbled streets to the small but cosy café. Plain cream tablecloths covered each of the six tables in the café and atop of each were, to Rose's relief, a single pair of cutlery in each designated seat and pair of salt and pepper shakers. Stanley, a tall, slim man that looked around the same age as Oliver and Winnie, was the only member of staff working and since Winnie and Rose were his only customers, he went straight behind the small counter in the back corner of the room to prepare their orders of two sandwiches.

After she'd finished at lunch, she was going to talk to Oliver. She'd been pondering what had happened last night by the lake and how she had allowed it to happen. It had all happened so fast and she'd sworn she'd felt Jack's presence again, urging her on regardless of the fact she knew she wasn't ready for a relationship with another man, wasn't ready to let Jack go.

I need to explain to him… tell him about Jack.

Maybe he'll understand, but he doesn't even know Jack's dead. She had to be the one to tell the man she had grown to care about that his best friend was dead and that she couldn't pursue a relationship with him for the same reason.

Rose was broken out of her trail of thought by the sound of Winnie's voice. "I've been wondering Rose, how long you're staying in Chippewa Falls for? I mean, you've been here a month already, not that I'm trying to persuade you to leave! Not at all, quite the opposite, actually." She laughed characteristically, a throaty chuckle.

"Oh, well I haven't really given it much thought; I like it here and don't feel ready to leave just yet." She replied, truthfully. The time had flown by and she was contemplating asking Winnie about Jack and where his house had been, so she could finish what she had come to Chippewa Falls to accomplish; find peace in her heart.

"Well, if you want, and don't find obliged, you can stay with me for a while. I mean, the boarding house's is great for in the short term but I just thought maybe you'd want somewhere more 'homey' if you were planning to stay for a while."

Rose was touched and for the first time in her life she felt as though she had a genuine friend and the feeling of friendship bought a smile to her face that illuminated all her features.

"Thank you, Winnie, I really don't know what to say."

"It's up to you, take some time to think about it if you nee- Is that Oliver?"

Oliver was rushing down the street and nearly missed when Winnie banged on the glass to gain his attention, before waving excitedly when he peered into the café. His eyes darted to the door and then to the road ahead of him, as though contemplating whether or not to go in and greet his friend and Rose but before he could move, Winnie was dragging Rose up by the arm and opening the door.

"Ollie! What are you doing here? You do know it's half eleven on a Tuesday, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm in a bit of a rush, actually." He hurried, practically bouncing on his feet in preparation to run.

"No shit! Why aren't you at work?" Winnie frowned, placing both hands on her hips like a mother that had just caught their child truanting from school.

"Just got caught up… with the carts to the station. Lost track of time… Mr Milligan's gonna kill me!" he stammered, eyes darting straight forward, avoiding both women's eyes.

Winnie studied Oliver's face closely, frowning as she said "Are you alright, Ollie? Your eyes look all red,"

"Hmm? Oh, right. Hay fever must be starting to take its toll, being mid-July and all. Look, I really gotta go, talk later?" Oliver looked away it an attempt to hide his eyes from the women. He had never suffered from hay fever and Winnie knew that, he just hoped she wouldn't bring the issue up in front of Rose.

It was Rose who spoke this time, "Definitely." Oliver locked eyes with her but quickly looked away, feeling tears sting the backs of his eyes as Jack's face flashed before him.

Winnie nodded, concerned at her friend's uncharacteristic nervousness and lack of punctuality, and watched as he practically sprinted down the lane towards the town centre.

"How peculiar." She mused aloud, more to herself than Rose and Rose only nodded in agreement.

"Let's get back to our sandwiches though, otherwise Stanley'll think we've ran off. And, I can tell ya, I'd never hear the end of it!"


The sharp sound of a bell signalled Rose's otherwise silent entrance into the butchers were Oliver was working. The rancid smell of meat hit her nostrils and she winced as she walked to the counter where she waited for someone to make an appearance. It was empty in the butchers which contrasted the busy street she'd just come in from and the silence was broken only by the sound of footsteps.

After a couple of seconds, Oliver walked into view from a door behind the counter, removing his blood-stained apron as he did so, and upon seeing who was stood waiting, stammered a greeting and smiled almost awkwardly.

"R…Rose! I wasn't expecting to see you here." He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his wavy fringe out of his eyes.

Rose ignored his obvious discomfort and pushed the inclining that he was avoiding her to the back of her mind; she had more important things to worry about.

"I needed to talk to you… Winnie said you'd be here most of the day. What time does your shift finish?" Rose asked, glancing up to the clock above Oliver's head.

"I finish work at five."

"Then I'll come back in half an hour." She gave a small smile that didn't reach her emerald eyes and she smoothed the hems of the sleeves of her dress, which was deep blue and Oliver decided that she looked just as nice as she did in the green she'd worn yesterday and the red the day before that…

"I look forward to it." He said sincerely but Rose just cast her eyes down to the floor and nodded.

"Yes, well… see you later, then."

She turned and left without looking back and Oliver just stood, leaning over the counter with one arm slightly extended, watching her until she disappeared out of view.

"Bye…"


True to her word, Rose returned nearly exactly half an hour later, just as Oliver was cleaning up. He was dressed in casual clothing again, a dark blue shirt and beige trousers replaced his white butcher's uniform and his hair was slightly dishevelled from where his hat had sat minutes before, and he smiled when Rose walked through the door.

"Hey, I'll just be a sec." He leant the broom he'd been holding against the counter and took the keys from beside it.

Rose said nothing just acknowledged his words with a quiet hum. She was visibly nervous; her hands were entwined in front of her but her upper-class upbringing did not allow her to sway from foot to foot as instinct was telling her to do at this moment. She felt morose, a feeling she'd become extremely close to the past few months, but she hadn't felt this way since she'd arrived at New York and got off the Carpathia alone. Void of emotion, numb.

You need to tell him about Jack. She hadn't spoken about Jack yet; the pain was so raw that even thinking about the fact that he was dead was enough to make her head spin and cause tears to burn in her eyes. She had to tell Oliver, though, that much she was sure of. It wasn't fair that he still thought his best friend was alive, probably expecting him to return home someday.

"Are you alright, Rose?" Rose jumped slightly as Oliver placed his hand over her shoulder and when she looked up; she saw concern in his eyes, alongside something else, something much deeper…

"Yes… fine. Would you like to take a walk?" She said boldly, shaking off the feeling that she'd seen that look in someone else's eyes of deep blue, a lifetime ago.

"I'd like that."

"Well, Rose, we've walked about a mile in no particular direction, chewed about how great the weather's been and my day at work, but I reckon that's not why you came to talk to me, is it?"

Rose was taken aback by the familiarity of Oliver's words and for a second she was cast back to a sunny afternoons walk on the grandest ship of all time with a man that now lay at the bottom of the ocean, instead of walking in the pre-dusk warmth with his best friend.

"There's a reason I came here, to Chippewa Falls." When Oliver made no reply, she took several deep breaths and continued, "It's because I had a… friend who was from here. I feel I have to tell you that he died, not long ago, in a terrible accident." The familiar sting of tears burned her eyes and she choked the next words out, body visibly shaking from the effort it was taking her not to weep.

"Jack Dawson's dead."

The words tore at her heart, worse than any pain she had ever experienced. She was drifting again, drifting stationary on a piece of driftwood and somewhere, someone was singing… Trying to wake Jack up, his hands and face had been so cold when hours before he'd been soft and warm… She was wrapped in his arms, trying in vain to learn the steps of an unchoreographed dance as his laugher and lips brushed against her ear… She was flying, and he, too, was with her, the world at their feet as they tore through the sea fearlessly, each too caught up in the other to think, even think, that anything could bring them down, tear them apart…

Oliver's head snapped up and he immediately stopped walking.

It was all true. Everything he'd been denying in his mind was all true.

"I… I don't know what to say." He whispered his voice hoarse with emotion. The hope was gone, hope that it wasn't true; that his Rose couldn't possibly belong to the man he had let walk out of his life.

It was all true.

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Rose, nothing at all." He snapped out of his trail of thought as he realised Rose was crying quietly, though clearly biting back more anguished tears, one hand covered her eyes and the other supported her arm. He took her in his arms and held her as the tears she wept for him soaked through his shirt, as the sobs she cried for him wracked his conscience and after only seconds he found that he too was crying.

Crying for what had happened to his best friend and the woman he had come to love.

Crying because he could never call her that.

Crying for what he had prevented and the pain he had caused, because, after all,

It was all true.


Also, I've been thinking of changing the title of this story because 'Journey' was only ever meant to be temporary and frankly, kinda sucks! So if anyone has any suggestions that I like, I'll change it.

I'll let you get back to reviewing now!