Disclaimer: The movie and the story belong to James Cameron, I have no claim to any of it, aside from Grace Andrews.
If anyone is curious, Grace's face claim is Danielle Rose Russell.
The car jolted as it collided with a bump in the road, Grace let out a small laugh as it caused her to bump into her father. Thomas Andrews laughed slightly at his daughter's reaction. She could not see where they were as a scarf covered her eyes.
"I feel ridiculous," she said, letting her hands reach up to touch the scarf.
"I wish for you to marvel at the sight of the Titanic for the first time." Her father replied.
"I've seen it before," she told him.
"Only during its construction," was there a reply she received. Grace huffed but smiled all the same.
As the car slowed, Grace felt excitement and nerves well up inside of her. The feelings she felt seemed as though they were becoming an oil spill soon they would overflow and no part of the ocean would be spared if a match were to light itself. She was very proud of her father and what he had accomplished. Thomas opened his door and she waited until her own door opened; her father helped her out of the car and she laughed when she stumbled slightly. she could hear all sorts of people surrounding her and she wondered how many there were.
"Are you ready?" He asked her and she nodded her head. Her father took the scarf off of her eyes and as she adjusted to the harsh light, her eyes settled on the grand ship before her. It was beautiful, she had never seen anything like it. Before her was her father's dream.
"It's…" she had no words to say, she could not describe the feeling or her thoughts on this ship that had occupied so much of her father's time. She finally settled on a word. "...beautiful."
"Yes," he replied. "It is. Shall we?"
He held his arm out and Grace wrapped her own arm through his. They walked through the crowds of people aware that their luggage would be taken to their rooms. No one stopped them, for they were aware who Thomas Andrews was. As they stepped foot onto the ship, a voice called out to her father. Father and daughter turned simultaneously and her eyes landed on a man older than her father. His hair was brown and he had a moustache adorning his face.
"Thomas," he greeted pleasantly, "excited are we?"
"Of course, Mr. Ismay," he replied. Mr. Ismay's eyes turned to Grace and something about his look made her nervous.
"And who is this?" He asked her father.
"My daughter, Grace." Her father replied, tightening his grip ever so slightly.
"Daughter?" Mr. Ismay asked, confused.
"My eldest," he reiterated. "I have another, Elizabeth. She is only a child though."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Grace," Mr. Ismay stated, taking a hold of her other hand. Grace tried to smile but it felt cold and forced. There was something about him that made her uncomfortable.
Her father was observant as always and noticed the way his eldest felt. He bid Mr. Ismay a farewell and promised that he would join Mr. Ismay, the Captain, and the crew for dinner that night. They walked to their rooms and when they arrived their luggage was already there. Her maid, Cecilia, greeted them.
"Will you join us for dinner?" Her father asked her. Grace shook her head, admitting that she was tired and in no way hungry.
"Tomorrow I will give you a tour of the ship," he told her and she smiled at the idea.
"Thank you, daddy." She said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He smiled at her in a way he only did with his daughters.
Later in the evening, when her father had gone to dinner, Grace was left on her own. Growing increasingly bored, she decided to explore a part of the ship herself. She found herself walking throughout the ship, deciding to ignore the outside for now. The air would have cooled with the evening and she was not dressed warmly enough for that. Eventually her eyes came into contact with two men who were standing at a door. She realised that she would be entering the grand entrance of the Titanic.
"Good evening, miss," one of the door openers said.
"Good evening," she replied smiling at them politely. They opened the door for her and she walked into the grand entrance. It was more beautiful than she could have imagined. There was a clock on the panel, and stairs that descended downwards. Above, there was a glass dome, almost like a crown. She spun around under the dome with her head held high. She did not recall ever seeing a site so lovely. It was strange to think her own father had created this site before her.
Grace walked down the staircase, her heels clicking against the wood. She was surprised at the emptiness of the grand entrance. It was however, later in the evening and therefore, most people had already finished their meals. Beyond a door, she could see her father and Mr. Ismay seated at a table. They were surrounded by officers and she recognised the site of E.J Smith, the Captain. Grace never met him, but had once seen his photograph.
She debated entering, but as she approached the doors she heard Mr. Ismay mention her. She crouched by the doors and let her ear rest against the panel of wood to better hear the conversation.
"And what of your daughter?" he asked. Thomas Andrews turned away from his notebook and eyed Mr. Ismay with uncertainty. "Where is she this evening, Mr. Andrews?"
"She was tired," her father replied. "It has been a long day."
"Of course, of course," Mr. Ismay said, "Still, I would have liked to see her once again."
"Perhaps tomorrow," father replied, but he sounded unsure. She wanted to smile; never had she doubted that he cared about her, even when he was so busy with the Titanic. Her father turned to Captain Smith.
"I was planning on showing my Grace the ship," Captain Smith nodded.
"Of course you may, you did design her after all. My crew will be of any assistance necessary."
As conversation drifted, she was about to leave and act as though she had never snooped, but a voice interrupted her.
"Are you alright, miss?" An English voice said. Grace startled and almost lost her balance from where she was crouching. She looked up to see a man perhaps two decades older than her. He wore an officer's uniform. She looked at him sheepishly and realised how inappropriate she must have looked.
"I'm fine," she replied, standing up, brushing her dress with her hands. An awkward laugh escaped her when she once again made eye contact with the officer. "I was simply going for a walk."
"Of course," it was clear he did not believe her; he was simply humouring her. "I am William Murdoch."
A smile appeared on her face and she introduced herself, "I'm Grace Andrews."
His face shifted as he heard her name. "Andrews?" he asked. "Are you related to Thomas Andrews?"
"He's my father," she told him. She heard laughter ring outside the dining hall and shook her head. "I must be going back, it was a pleasure meeting you, Mr Murdoch."
"Would you like me to escort you back?'' He asked her, prepared to walk her back to her room, and Grace only shook her head once more.
"Have a good night." He said and she returned the pleasantry. As she walked back to her room, she thought about how she was 18 years old, no longer a child, but sometimes she still did childish things.
She sighed deeply as she had Cecilia help her into her nightgown. She crawled underneath the blankets and it felt so strange to realise that no one else had ever slept in these sheets before. As she drifted to sleep her last thought was that everything felt as though it was about to change.