Hi, so here is another chapter, this is a shorter chapter and then the next one will be the start of the action for this story.

Disclaimer-Nothing is mine just the character of Isabella, her mother and her father.

I am in the process of piecing a sequel for this story so let me know if that is something you will enjoy.

And the character of Bruce Ismay is being changed for this fanfic. As I have always said this story does in no way intend to damage the memory of the actual man.

Any historical accuracies I apologise.

Please Read and Review.

Some Kind Of Tomorrow

Chapter 7-Rumours And Reputations

It's Sunday (and the last sunrise Titanic will ever see) and Isabella demands answers leading to Bruce Ismay to finally begin to start telling the story of what happened to his sister. Isabella's mother. Slightly shorter chapter.

She had gone to bed in a pensive and (dare she say it) heartbroken mood.

She had found that she had been unable to sleep plagued by questions that she did not know the answer to and decisions she could not make until she was sure that she knew the answers and that the answers were truthful.

Or at least that was what she told herself as she cried herself to sleep that night and that was what she kept telling herself as she allowed Trudy to put her into a pink dress with gold embroidery. She looked at herself in the mirror and thought that she had never seen a more pathetic looking coward.

She had gone to the third class decks that night to find out if a future for her and Tommy was possible and she had come away having found out that it was and had given it up because she was scared.

Of what? Her Uncle, the man who had bullied her and belittled her and had not shown her one scrap of love and had only noticed her when it was time for her to play her part in society. Of that man? She had given up Tommy for that man?"

In truth she had not been lying when she had said that her Uncle had the power to ruin lives. Tommy was so small to him, so unnecessary that she was not sure what he could do and that in truth filled her with a terrible sense of unease.

There was also the fact that she was not brave enough to take a step of that ledge. She wanted someone to turn around and say to her that it was alright to leave this world behind with all it's fake glitz and the acrid smoke of glamour. She wanted someone to tell her what to do and she knew that nobody was going to do that nor should they—not really—this was a decision that needed to be made herself.

But she was seventeen.

She needed…she needed.

If she was being bitterly, achingly honest with herself in this moment what she needed most of all was a mother.

And she was going to get some answers as to why she did not have the luxury of such a simple thing.

And God help her she was going to get them today.

Titanic held a service of mass simply called the Divine Service. There was a catholic priest on board in second class but rather than offend most of the other passengers in the process the mass was led by EJ Smith and the other father was to lead the steerage and the second class members in a more private mass downstairs, something that had been asked of him and that he was only to happy to do.

Or so said Molly Brown as they were awaiting the mass to begin.

Out of all of the woman on this ship Isabella thought she liked Molly Brown the best.

She wondered—and she could not help but wonder—just what kind of advice she would be given had she turned to Molly Brown with this kind of problem.

Actually she thought picking up a hymn book—she thought that she might get an honest and thoughtful opinion from the woman which was a far cry from what she would get from anyone else.

The mass called simply The Divine Service began and she turned her attentions to the words. She had gone to mass more with her grandmother when she had been alive though she had not been in her life for long. Then she had gone herself not for any devout reason but for the freedom that it had given her, for the freedom that she had been granted when she had stepped out of her Uncle's house for the first time and had realised that she and her actions and her behaviour and her hair were not been looked at for constant ridicule and criticism.

This mass was simple and pleasant and there was a definite sea theme though she did not mind it so much. EJ Smith had a pleasant melodious voice and she let the comforting words of the mass calm her and help her towards what she was going to do after breakfast when her Uncle retired to his room probably to sleep of the hangover. The way he kept wincing and then smiling bitterly told her it was not a headache that he was suffering but rather the acknowledgement that he had overdone it which was exactly how Isabella wanted him.

He would tell her what she needed to know and then tell her to get lost and more to the point he had no idea that she had been downstairs again with Tommy which was a conversation she could really do without.

It would not have been appropriate to eat before mass (as her grandmother had told her constantly when she too small to peer over the wooden pew) and therefore she ate hungrily when she sat down. She had eggs with some smoked salmon and some toast and tea and she watched as Rose failed to meet her eye. She was sat with her mother and Cal at another table and she was with her Uncle and EJ Smith himself who she found her instincts had been right about—she liked him on sight—and she was right to.

He was pleasantly well spoken and seemed rather keen to get her opinion on his ship from the behaviour of his staff to the designs and he was happy it seamed to confirm that this was his last appointment with the White Star Line and within the confines of the Navy itself. It seemed that retirement was beckoning at the end of this voyage and though her Uncle joked that he would miss the hustle and bustle of managing a big ship like Titanic looking at E. J Smith Isabella personally thought that he would not.

Her Uncle laughed at something then and she nearly flinched. She was not supposed to be scared of him she thought wildly. Family was not supposed to be scared of family and yet here she was scared of him. Scared of getting on the wrong side of him and content to be forced into a box to get away from him. A marriage that she did not want, endless balls and dances and dresses and she did not want it. And she did not want him.

In fact she wanted him as much as he suspected that he had wanted her.

It was time she thought standing up as breakfast came to a close, to get the truth out of him as to why she was here. As to why her mother had disappeared and then come back to see him all those years ago, and perhaps the one question she had never been able to ask anyone and was for that reason the one she thought would hold the key to everything.

Who was her father?

And with that she followed her Uncle back to his suite of rooms which she noticed, were perhaps one of the largest on the ship.

"What do you want?"

"The truth" she said closing the door and standing in front of it her hands clasped behind her back her fingers linked together.

"About?"

"My mother and father. The whole truth, nothing but the truth so help you God"

He opened one eye from where he had collapsed onto a chair and stared at her.

"Do not be flippant Isabella"

"And do not lie to me Uncle. You let too much slip the last time we talked. There is a story, I know there is, and now it's time to tell it"

He stared at her and she saw his lip curl and she braced herself. Her mother always made him angry, anything to do with her non-existent father tended to make her so furious she had to leave the room while he took his anger out on whatever was there.

"What the hell do you want from me? I give you everything, a home, nice clothes, jewels, the basics of an education, a classical one anyway. Everything and yet you always throw it away with some stupid third class boy like—like—"

"Like her?"

She did not know what made her ask the question but it stopped him dead and she realised with a swoop of something in her stomach that she had been right. There had been something about her father that had set him off and…

"I can ask someone" she said bluntly. "I assume it was a scandal that you and grandmother had to work hard to contain. If I ask someone on this ship will they know? Your friend Colonel Astor? Ruth DeWitt Bukater? Benjamin Guggenheim perhaps?"

He flinched once and that was enough to tell her that she was right. She was dragging this out of him now forcing him to tell her all the rumours that had affected all of the reputations and Isabella felt a savage sort of pleasure at the truth coming out.

For a moment he turned and his face was so frightening she thought he was going to hit her. He stood and she braced herself but the blow never came, instead he dragged her away from the door and slammed her up against the wall.

For a moment she stared at him and him at her and then when he spoke it was in a voice uncontrollable with rage.

"You do not want to know this story Isabella. I have done my best not to let it taint this family, not to let it taint you and you will not mention it again"

Isabella smiled.

She was terrified of him, she was completely and utterly terrified of him but as she stood there she realised that after this moment she was not going to be terrified of him anymore. She was not going to stand here and be terrified by this man beyond this moment. She was done.

She was completely and utterly done.

This was the moment that defined them.

This was the moment that defined her.

She thought in that split second of Tommy and for a reason that she knew it made her fell courageous enough to carry on with this conversation. She thought of him and the way that he made her feel, as if she was fearless and invincible and she smiled.

"Try me"

He smacked her across the face and she felt her neck move with the blow.

"It will not change anything" she said as he grabbed her by the hair so that he could inspect the damage that had no doubt been done to her face which was as he had said so many times her only assets for a woman in this world. "I will find someone who will tell me so make a choice Uncle, will the story come from you or from one of your peers?"

For a second he stared at her with disgust and then he threw her to the side and she staggered catching herself on the table as it banged her ribs. He flounced off back to the chair and she paused watching him.

"Fine" he snarled as he poured himself a brandy and downed it back.

"But you will not thank me for it. And when I tell you this story you will get off this boat with me and I you will never ask me for help again. You will marry and then I will leave you to rot"

Isabella said nothing.

"I will tell you the story of your mother and the…street rat…that is your father. Sit down Isabella and listen to the story of rumours, reputation and the blanket of bastardy that you were raised in"

Isabella did not sit. She stood.

This was her moment.

This was her battle ground.

And by God she would see this in standing.

For better or for worse, she would see this in standing.

And there you go, I will hopefully bring you the next chapter sooner rather than later.

Next Chapter-Isabella Ismay finally learns the story of her mother and her father and how she came to be.