Hello, dear readers! I'm so glad you all were happy to see Lovely Lightoller again :) As you know, he's got a special place in my heart, too - and the story's not done with him yet. Love hearing from you, as always - hope you all keep reading! And Rosie - thank you my darling for the inspiration this week ;)
Corrine had to admit, washing up felt grand. Rinsing all the salt from the sea out of her hair made her feel fresh and reborn. She scrubbed her body and hair multiple times with the soap as best she could, and then spent a long time with her head under the running water, reveling in its warmth. She was pretty sure she was never going to take heat for granted again in her life.
Still, despite the relief she felt from scouring away the grime of that terrible night, Harry's words echoed over and over in his mind: '...fastened a few in my time...' She pressed her palms to her eyes to rid herself of the unwanted images his glib comment had unwillingly conjured.
Stop it, she scolded herself. What, did she expect him to be chaste? He had a life before her!
No; she just hadn't expected that it would cut so deeply to be reminded of that. Nor did she expect him to, well... brag about it. Or rub her face in it.
Angrily, she yanked the tap, shutting off the water. She grabbed a towel and hurriedly dried herself, then wrapped her hair in it. She opened the door and peeked out into the corridor.
No Harry. Smart move, lad, she thought.
She closed the door and walked back to the bed, looking down at the dress. Although some of her earlier excitement had faded with Harry's remark, she thought the dress was beautiful, and she still looked forward to wearing it. She scrounged in the pile of clothes in the corner until she located her laundered undergarments and then put them on. But she found that the exertion of standing while she cleaned herself, as well as the varied emotions of the past hour, had exhausted her. Utterly spent, she lay back, hair fanned out on the pillow behind her, and fell asleep.
When she woke again, Harry was in his usual place in the chair by the bed. He wasn't asleep, though. He was watching her warily, his right knee jiggling nervously.
Too late, she realized that she was nearly naked, and she blushed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She was sure he had gotten an eyeful while she was dozing. But he looked steadily into her eyes, and said, "I want you to know that that was the barmiest thing I think I've ever said, Corrine. None of that-" he waved his hand dismissively, "-before... it didn't mean anything to me at all. And I never should have been so crass. Christ, the last thing I want to do is hurt you."
She stiffened involuntarily. Nothing about it being not true, or an exaggeration on his part, just an admission that he shouldn't have said it. Good God, she thought, exasperated, did he have to be so brutally honest all the time?
"I thought you said you didn't have a girl in every port," she blurted before she could stop herself. Oh, why couldn't she just let this be?
"I didn't- I mean, I don't, Corrine." He exhaled in frustration. "That's the truth. But what is also the truth is that although I have been with other women before, it wasn't anything serious," he said softly. Not like this, he left unsaid, the words hanging between them.
She felt her heart thaw, just a little, at his earnest admission. His earlier comment still stung, but she supposed in his mind, honesty was more important than any hurt feelings that may result. And besides, in the face of the enormous tragedy they both endured, her discomfort at his words was insignificant.
She gave him a hesitant smile. "Consider the entire incident forgotten, then," she said lightly. He frowned slightly, as if he didn't quite believe her words, but let it be.
He watched as she teased out the knots in her long hair with the hairbrush - borrowed, like everything else around her. He looked as if he were going to offer assistance, thought better of it, and stayed silent. When she had finished, she slowly got to her feet, picked up the dress, and studied it. "I'll... I'll need help with the buttons in the back, if you're willing," she said shyly. He nodded, his eyes carefully looking everywhere but at her body. Hastily, she stepped into her petticoat, then the dress, and slid it up over her shoulders. She turned wordlessly and he quickly fastened the buttons. After he stepped away, she sat on the bed, pulled on her stockings and boots, and then stood.
When she turned back around to him, he looked more relaxed, as if he were relieved that she was dressed at last. And then his eyes widened in appreciation as they wandered over her. "My God, Corrine, you look stunning. That dress really suits you; it brings out your eyes..." Again, he looked as if he wanted to reach for her, but held back.
He stood there, uncomfortable and uncertain, for a moment. Why was he so hesitant all of a sudden? Was he afraid she was still angry about his gaffe? Pushing down her still-unsettled feelings, she gave him a sweet and tremulous smile, hoping to reassure him and let him know that all was well, and then turned away to the small mirror. After she finished pinning her hair up in a coil, she turned around to see that he was still staring at her, eyes full of regret. "Look, Corrine, I... I don't want it to be awkward between us. Can you forgive me, for earlier?" The look he gave her was almost pleading, and it melted her heart.
This time, her smile was radiant and genuine. "Of course, Harry."
He held out his arm. "Then, please, allow me escort a lady for a walk on the promenade," he intoned formally.
She looked around the room. "And what lady might that be?" she joked.
He laughed, and the relief on his face was palpable. "My favorite - and only - girl, of course." He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her out the door.
It was strange, being outside again. The sun was bright, but the air was still chilled. She pulled closer to the warmth of Harry's body as they slowly made their way down the Carpathia's bridge deck. Their rescue ship was much more modest than Titanic. The decks were narrower, the rooms smaller, and the fixtures and woodwork older, but everything gleamed and shone, a product of the obvious care and pride of her crew. And, most importantly, the doddering old steamer was steady, her decks level. She heaved a sigh of gratitude at that, and realized that she would never again take for granted the proper workings of a ship.
Harry, of course, seemed utterly at ease, even though on this ship he was technically just a passenger. He nodded greetings at the Carpathia's crew, and inquired after their captain. All of the men tipped their hats at him, and respect shone clearly in their eyes. They knew who he was, then, and what he had done. It made her heart swell with pride, to know that he was recognized and admired by so many.
He looked down at her. "Where would you like to go, Corrine?"
"I want to see Katie and Kate," she said decisively. "Can you take me down to the steerage deck?"
"Of course," he replied. He led her to a stairwell, which they descended carefully, her free hand clutching the railing as much as her still-injured shoulder would allow. Once at the bottom, he guided her to a large room at the center of the ship.
It appeared that the room had once been either a general gathering area or a dining saloon, but had since been serving as an emergency dormitory for the third-class Titanic passengers that had managed to escape the sunken ship. There were tables, bedrolls, blankets, clothing, and dishes strewn everywhere. Although the room was messy and disordered, she was still able to appreciate that it wasn't nearly as packed with people as it should have been. With a pang, she wondered how many of those she had celebrated with the night before the sinking were still alive.
Fortunately, she was soon distracted from her mournful thoughts. As soon as they entered, she heard a squeal from the corner, and saw Katie flying toward her from where she had been sitting with Kate and their new Finnish friends. Harry stepped in front of Corrine instinctively, trying to ensure that her exuberant friend didn't bowl her over in her zeal. But Katie sidestepped him fluidly and threw her arms around Corrine's neck, making her stagger slightly. Harry cleared his throat disapprovingly, but she ignored him. "What are you doing down here, love?" she cried.
Corrine laughed. "Doctor's orders - I have to exercise. And, I missed you girls." She threw a loving glance at Katie, and then at Kate, who had trailed behind.
Kate touched her arm - unlike Katie, she hadn't missed Harry's warning look - and smiled warmly at her. "You're looking much better, Corrine."
"And beautiful, too," Katie declared. "You're a right dinger in that fancy dress," she continued admiringly, nudging her.
Corrine blushed, smiling, and then looked behind Kate, her eyes growing wide. "Danny!" she said with surprise. She hadn't realized that the Irish lad from their group had made it off the ship; she was sure he had been left behind, a casualty of the 'women and children' rule. "I'm so happy to see you alive and well!"
Daniel Buckley smiled shyly and came up from behind Kate. "I have you to thank, Miss Corrine," he said softly. He reached out and took her hand in his. "I never would have found my way up to that deck without you." He gave her hand a squeeze, his eyes shining with feeling.
She heard an inarticulate noise beside her. Harry was looking down at her hand, brow furrowed, a frown on his face. Hurriedly, Danny released her and stood next to Kate, putting his arm around her deliberately. She saw Harry's shoulders relax slightly.
Looking from Kate to Danny, Corrine realized that she had missed more than just the boat that night. She gave her friend a tender smile, telling her with her eyes that she knew and understood. Kate grinned and winked back, to Corrine's delight.
She turned to Harry. She had been surprised to see that flash of jealousy, but it amused her all the same. As if she could ever belong to anyone but him! She smiled indulgently as she prepared to make introductions. "Harry, this is-"
Before she could finish, she heard a keening cry from her right. A woman dragging two children behind her was making her way toward them. She was speaking rapidly in a foreign tongue, her eyes locked on Corrine's face.
Corrine gasped. It was the mother from the collapsible - the one she had helped the night of the sinking. Again, Harry tried to intervene, but to his consternation the woman shoved him aside and embraced Corrine tightly. The woman wept freely on her shoulder, and Corrine felt her own eyes fill with tears as well. "Thank you," she said in heavily accented English. "Thank you."
Corrine patted her back. "I'm glad you and your boys are safe," she murmured. She wasn't sure if the woman could understand her words, but she hoped she understood the sentiment behind them.
As the mother pulled back to present her children, the Finnish girls came up to express their appreciation as well. Others were eventually drawn over, too. One man, who introduced himself as Olaus, said that he had been in the damaged collapsible with her. "And I hear you finally found your Harry," he said, a twinkle in his eye. Harry gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Olaus introduced her to another man named August, who apparently spoke no English, explaining that he had also been in their boat and was glad to see she had survived. She recognized him as the man who had helped her after the boat capsized the second time, and gave him a thankful smile. Soon Harry and Corrine were surrounded by a group of grateful, happy, chatting people.
After she had finished greeting everyone, she turned to see Harry gazing at her with admiration and awe. "Seems like you are quite popular down here, Corrine. You're truly a hero to these people," he said in wonder.
"I told you," Katie said smugly.
They visited with the steerage passengers a bit longer, until Harry, worried about Corrine's stamina, suggested that they return abovedecks to her room. After bidding everyone a warm farewell, they ascended the steps and found their way to the promenade of the shelter deck.
She had been reluctant to go back to her room immediately; the warmth of the sun, and the absence of the class restrictions and company policies that had kept them separated on Titanic, made her want to linger longer in public with him. So she prevailed upon him to delay their return to the bridge deck while she rested for a bit in the fresh air. He acquiesced, and they sat on one of the few remaining empty benches lining the deck. She leaned her head against him, the brisk breeze loosening tendrils from her coil to brush gently against his face, and sighed contentedly as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Despite the circumstances that had brought them to this ship, the coziness of their present situation made her almost feel like they were on vacation. She closed her eyes and imagined that they had just been married and were on their way to America to start a new life together, and that he'd never leave her side again...
She felt him stiffen suddenly beside her, and her eyes flew open.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lowe. It is so lovely to see you again."
The simpering voice belonged to a tall, stately young woman with brown hair twisted in a similar coil to Corrine's. Despite her eclectic clothing, likely a result of hasty dressing during the night of the sinking, she exuded an unquestionable air of class and money; her eyes, heavy-lidded in her round face, had a look of cultivated worldliness despite her young age. She was gazing down at Harry with a look that Corrine couldn't quite place.
Harry rose, pulling Corrine up with him, and tipped his hat to her. "Good day, miss...?"
"Ryerson. My mother, my sister, my brother and I, along with our servants, were on one of the boats in your flotilla. I wanted to tell you how utterly grateful we are that you took care of us the night of the sinking." She gave him a small, cryptic smile.
He swallowed, and said, "I... I apologize, but I don't remember meeting you before. Were you in my boat, number 14?"
"No, I was in number 4, with Mrs. Astor, Mrs. Thayer, and Mrs. Widener." She continued to gaze at him expectantly.
He nodded. "Right. We met up with your boat right when... well, when the ship disappeared." He paused, his brow furrowing. "Wasn't Perkis in charge of your boat, though? He's the one you should be thanking, not me. I had very little to do with number 4, really."
"No, Mr. Lowe," she said earnestly. "We all saw what you did that night, and... well, we were... impressed." The way she said it made Corrine uncomfortable, as if there was some implication that Corrine wasn't grasping. She shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling confused and awkward.
For the first time, the young woman seemed to notice Corrine standing beside him. She eyed her up and down appraisingly, taking in the incongruity of the expensive dress, disarrayed hair, and worn leather boots. A faint frown flitted across her brow as she processed it, and then her eyes cleared, and she turned back to Harry as if Corrine were not even there.
"I just want to let you know, sir, that if you ever need anything - anything at all - please do not hesitate to contact me - my family, that is. I owe you so much." Her smile this time was vulpine.
"Thank you, miss, that is most kind, but I assure you I do not deserve any... accolades." Despite the chill in the air, he was perspiring. "And now I must beg your leave. My fiancee needs her rest." Corrine hid her reaction as he took her arm. He nodded at Miss Ryerson politely and gently steered Corrine in the direction of the first-class dining room. She could still feel the woman's eyes on them as he opened the door for her.
There is absolutely no evidence indicating that Susan Ryerson would have behaved this way. There was a rather curious moment during the American inquiry when Smith asks Lowe if he had a conversation with Mrs. Ryerson on the Carpathia. Why he chose to single out this particular family, and no other, is unclear, nor does he explain the reason for the question. Nonetheless, Miss Ryerson's actions here were simply for dramatic effect.
As for Corrine's friends in third class, we already know Olaus Abelseth (Collapsible A) and Daniel Buckley (Boat 14 in this story), but just for the curious, the others are as follows:
Finnish girls: Anna Sjoblum and unnamed friend, saved in Boat 16
Woman with 2 boys: Syrian refugee Aminah Mubarik and sons Jirjis and Halim, saved in Collapsible C
August Wennerstrom: saved in Collapsible A