Winifred Cook never really stood out. To the wealthy she was a common street rat. She slept on the streets, wore rags and stained cotton, no family, no friends. She was alone in the world.
But Winifred was happy, to the amazement of those who she spoke with. She was happy because she was free. She had adapted to her rather poor lifestyle. She lived off of what she was given and that was it.
She took pleasure in the simple things, like swimming in empty ponds and finding tiny trinkets on crowded streets. She always looked forward to waking up just before dawn to watch the sunrise and sunset at the edge of town. She dreamt about the first taste of a crabapple when they first bloomed. She lived for all the little moments she shared with only herself.
But above all, Winnie liked to travel. It was hard for people like her to even get across the country; they would never dream of going outside of Britain. However, Winnie always managed to find her own way.
Winnie was clever. She could hitchhike her way to the sea and stow away on a fishing boat in the dead of night. That was how she managed to get to Spain for the first time.
Witty Winnie was what her friends used to call her. "Witty Winnie, Witty Winnie, show us how to dance. With Spanish moss and apple sauce. We never stood a chance."
Winnie travelled all over Europe. From Italy to France, Sweden to Germany. But she'd always end up back at her home town: Totnes, England.
Totnes was where Winnie was when she first heard about the Titanic; from a particularly excitable man coming from a pub. As soon as he told her about it she knew she had to go.
The Titanic, however, was a bit more challenging than the cargo ships she usually hid on. It was a passenger ship with officers and security. There were rich people and, if Winnie knew anything about rich people, it was that they loved to feel safe.
This was to be one of the biggest challenges of her, well, career.
She caught the first boat to Southampton (which wasn't very far) and camped out for days on the docks. On the day of April 10th, Winnie stood behind a few crates and barrels, watching the first class passengers strut about in flowing outfits and overflowing pockets..
Winnie chuckled as she saw a woman with an overly flamboyant dress try to hide a stumble from her what seemed to be husband. "They look like stuffed peacocks," she muttered to herself. "Indeed they do," someone agreed next to her.
Winnie spun around only to be faced with a red headed boy, not much taller than herself. Usually she would be perturbed that someone had been able to sneak up on her, but she was a good sport.
"An' just who might you be?"
The red headed boy chuckled and held out a dirtied hand. "Fred Davidson at your service, Ma'am."
Winnie took "Fred's" hand and shook it.
"Winnie Cook, pleasure to meet ya'," she responded.
They returned to looking at the passengers. "I bet them coats cost more than me life," Winnie joked. "Nah." He shook his head. "Probably twice that."
There was a short pause when suddenly Fred spoke as if the idea had just dawned upon him: "You got a ticket?" he asked.
Winnie shook her head, grinning like a cheshire cat. "Ain't got no money to get 'em." She shrugged and looked back to the first class, who were almost all the way on. "I ought to leave and catch the back of that boat before I lose me chance."
She heaved a sigh and waved a goodbye. "Hopes to see ya' onboard?"
Fred mirrored her grin. "You never know."
Winnie found her chance when a servant spilled a load of luggage near the entrance door. The commotion was enough for her to start up the ramp. She ducked behind a woman with an ugly purple dress and waited until one of the officers, with dark brown hair, looked away. Then she snuck past the woman and found the animal storage. It was there that she waited, behind a hay bale, for the ship to start off.
She waited a rather long time.
Perhaps an hour or two went by and Winnie was still sitting on the pointy hay, grumbling to herself. "How long do it take for a ship to take off?" She huffed and blew a piece of tangled hair from her face. A chicken clucked near her ear, making her eye twitch. It had been doing that the entire time. "Hush, you," she ordered.
The chicken did not stop.
"Hush," she repeated again.
It clucked on.
"I said hush!"
She swatted at the chicken, making it let out a distressed squawk. Its chicken companions were sent in a frenzy and Winnie could only watch with an open mouth as a pair of boots descended the steps to where the chickens were.
"Blast," she groaned, trying her best to conceal herself behind more itchy hay.
The boots echoed in her ear as they drew closer. "Hello?" a man's voice called. "I know you're there…chicken's don't say blast."
Winnie did not budge.
"Come out! I'm an officer!"
Winnie cringed and let out a groan, which was a mistake. She slapped her hand over her mouth so hard it stung.
"I heard that!" the officer said. "I see your feet, behind the hay bale. You had better come out…before I have to drag you out."
Winnie peaked out, only to be met with the officer's face right in front of her's. She let out a startled yelp. "Christ!" she screeched. "What the hell are ya' doing?"
The officer too jumped back. "That's rich coming from you!" he snapped, dusting off his crisp new uniform. "Why are you disturbing chickens?"
"Because…" She trailed off. There really was no good excuse. "Because I bloody want to!" she snapped back.
"You enjoy angering chickens?" the officer echoed incredulously. "What kind of person are you?"
"I don't like it," Winnie said, rolling her eyes. She wrung her hands together as she tried to think of a good lie. "I was only looking for something when I accidentally kicked it." She finished with a proud nod; proud of her lie no less.
"And what is it that you could possibly be looking for?" the officer asked. His face remained impassive but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
She was foiled again.
"I was…of course, it's silly really. I, um, I saw these chickens before I got on, you see, and…" A long pause. "I've always had a love for chickens and I only wanted to pet it. But it clucked so loudly that I dropped my…erm, I dropped my hanky."
The officer raised an eyebrow. "Your hanky?"
Winnie nodded fervorously. "Yes, my nan gave it to me when I was a little thing and I've cherished it so that I carry it with me wherever I go. When I dropped it, I couldn't get it back because their little cage was carried off so I just followed them here."
The office looked at her for a long moment and then smiled. It was hard to tell if it was a mocking smile or encouraging, but what could be agreed upon was that it was unsettling. Winnie's eyes widened. "Oh, I see," the officer said, "you just came to get your hanky." He nodded and chuckled. Winnie nodded and chuckled as well. "Yep, that's all."
The officer hummed, still nodding and chuckling. "I should like to see this hanky." His smile grew wider. Winnie blanched. "You want to see it?"
Another nod.
"Well…I haven't found it yet!"
The officer stopped nodding and gave her an exaggerated frown. "Oh, you haven't found it."
"No," Winnie said, shaking her head. She donned the same frown.
"Ah, I see. You haven't found your nan's hanky yet. Hm. That's just fine."
Winnie smiled again. "Well, if that's all-"
"How about your ticket?"
She suppressed a groan. "I lost it with me hanky," she muttered.
The office, seemingly done with playing, took hold of her wrist. "No ticket, no hanky; I think you're a stowaway!"
Winnie wriggled herself free. "I ain't no bloody stowaway!" she exclaimed. "I'm a passenger!"
The officer took hold of her again and began to march her towards the stairs. "We'll see what the captain has to say about that, Ms. Stowaway!"
Winnie knew the jig was up. ""Wait!" she cried, planting her feet on the ground.
The officer did stop, after much resistance, and looked back with a satisfied expression.
"Alright! Alright! I give up!"
The officer sighed. "What are you doing on this ship?"
Now that she was being truthful, he let go of her arm.
Winnie huffed. "I just wanted to get on the ship," she mumbled. "But I didn't have enough money to get a ticket. So I snuck in and hid back here." Her face contorted to hide a scowl. "But those damn chickens started squawking all at once and then you came back here. And here we is arguing over nothing."
The officer sighed again, running a hand over his face. They both froze as the horn blew and they both lurched forward.
"I can't throw you off now. The boat's already departed," the officer groaned. "You'll have to wait until we dock again." He paused, looking her over. "I suppose you can't just stay in the stables, so I'll allow you to bunk with the rest of 3rd class."
Winnie began to smile but was cut off mid…mouth twitch?
"However! You are, under no circumstances, allowed on the 1st class deck. The other officers will know you're here and they'll probably ask you for your ticket and then everything would go to hell."
The almost-smile was gone.
"You find your way to 3rd class; it's downstairs. Don't try and talk to the stewards, don't make a scene, don't go in any of the public spaces, and don't come back up until we arrive!"
Winnie stood in shock for a moment. She had never met someone so kind, even if he was a bit harsh. She began to walk away, but before she did, she nodded to the officer.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Harold," the officer answered. "Harold Lowe."
He too paused for only a moment before shaking his head and walking away, not bothering to see if Winnie honored the agreement.
Winnie stood behind him, flabbergasted. She managed a chuckle before walking towards the steps that would lead her eventually to the 3rd class bunks.
As soon as she stepped in, she spotted someone familiar.
"Hey! Redhead" she exclaimed.
Fred looked up and grinned. "Hey! freckles!" Winnie grinned too.
"Gah! Ya make me blush." She plopped herself next to him and let out an unrefined groan. "Officer named 'Arold Lowe caught me while I was hiding in the stables," she admitted. "Told me I was to stay hidden until we get to New York."
"That's good, isn't it?" Fred asked. "I mean, that means he doesn't care too much. He let you go."
"Probably cause she was pretty," a man, Yorkshire perhaps, piped up. "Yup. Those officers are big flirts up there with the first class ladies. But some like to mess with 3rd class, just because they can't pull one of them rich ones."
All the men listening laughed, Winnie joining in. "He must've gotten rejected a lot them," she chuckled. "No sane man would want this girl." She gave Fred a hearty slap on the back. "He might wanna try another one before he gets with me!"
More laughter erupted.
"Say, where about is you from? Your accent ain't from these parts," a woman, sitting not too far off from Winnie, said.
"Me? I'm from down Totnes," Winnie answered. "Why, so am I!" a man boomed from behind her.
"Then you and me must be kin," Winnie said, giving the man a jovial handshake.
Fred laughed along with the rest of the passengers. He and his companion, an Indian fellow, went up deck to do whatever red heads and Indians do (normal, human things?) and Winnie followed, completely disregarding Mr. Lowe's more than generous conditions.
She soon found herself on top of the deck with an abundance of fancy looking people around her. She went to the very front of the ship next to the bow spirit and looked out into the open sea. She could practically taste the saltwater.
She threw out her arms and let out a loud laugh. She had missed what the sea air felt like.
"You!" a familiar voice hissed from behind her. Winnie yelped and jumped around. "Hey!" she exclaimed. "It's you again." She clapped him on the back.
"Good ta see ya, 'Arold."
Officer Lowe's eyes widened. "Have you got dementia? Have you forgotten everything I said? It's been nearly twenty minutes!"
He frowned and looked around with weary eyes. "You can't be up here. Do you realize that this is where the Captain of this ship comes often? You're on the first class deck, woman! If he sees you, he'll have my head and either throw you in the brig or put you to works in the kitchen! You'll be thrown in jail once we get to New York and then sent back to where you came from!"
Winnie hardly paid attention to what he said. "Don't worry so much, Officer. It's all good. Come and see the water with me!"
Disregarding decency (and personal space) she pulled him to her side and held him with a firm grip. Harold gave up and looked to the sea dejectedly. It was clear he was going to have a hard time with her. He began to think of when they got caught. Would he too be thrown in the brig? Stripped of his duties? Thrown out of-
No, that last thought was dumb.
It was only a little while of unwilling sea watching before Harold had to go, rushing off to fetch some tea for his captain. Winnie heeded his words and made her way down to the 3rd class decks again, smashing into a man while she avoided being seen by a dog walking steward.
"Woah there!" the man exclaimed in an Irish accent. "Sorry about that," she responded. "Trying to keep me distance from those officers."
The man agreed with a shrug. "Can't blame you."
Winnie turned her attention to Fred, who she had spotted sitting on the deck with a small flute. "Hey, red head; we meet again!" Winnie exclaimed.
"It's only been twenty minutes, Winnie," Fred chuckled. He was sitting next to the Irish man. Winnie spotted the cigarette case in his hand.
"Hey, buddy, me name's Winnie Cook," she said suddenly, completely forgetting Fred. "I'm sure we can be right good friends, and as such, how's about sharing."
The man obliged with a guffaw. "Name's Leonard Kelly, from Killarney."
"Nice to meet ya, Leonard!"
Leonard turned to Fred. "Ya make any money with playing that thing?" he asked.
"Not much," Fred answered. "I play for fun, or when I haven't got a bit to say." He looked pointedly at both of them.
"Play us a ditty then, Fred," Winnie demanded.
Fred smiled, looking down. "It won't be good, I tell ya."
Nonetheless he raised the flute to his lips and played a small melody. It was springy and full of life, but quiet enough to keep attention off of them. Winnie listened intently, the corners of her lips curved in remembrance.
When Fred finished, both Winnie and Leonard clapped. "Play for fun, boy?" Leonard scoffed. "You could make ten cents an hour in a pub," Winnie added. Fred blushed. "Tell that to my mum."