Titanic - The Heart Goes On By HL Griffiths
(Sequel to The Heart Never Lies)
Chapter Seven – "Mr Big Artiste"
October 1912
Santa Monica
Jack
The paintings looked wonderful hanging in Hamish's gallery. It was only a small collection of about 10 drawings. Some of Santa Monica beach and the coaster, some of people in various guises. Man fishing off the beach, Children building sandcastles, a couple walking on the beach, a dog chasing a ball thrown by his master. My favorite of a full side profile of a pregnant Rose standing on the beach with the sun setting behind her and her hair falling over her face hiding her features wearing a yellow dress.
We wandered round "Inspired". Hamish's waterfront gallery. He had presented the pictures beautifully and the lighting made them look spectacular.
The collection was called "Jacques Calvert, the Santa Monica Collection"
People were milling around looking at them, it seemed to be going well. There was a good buzz in the air.
"They are very good" Ruth was saying "I didn't appreciate how good you were, you will have to a formal portrait of Rose sometime" Rose and I looked at each other and grinned. Rose giggled. She beautiful in a green and red gown, her hair up in a bun. She was feeling so much better with the pregnancy now.
I moved closer to her "Remember the picture of you and the "heart of the ocean" in your suite" I whispered "Pity the picture is at the bottom of the Atlantic, it would look great on display!!"
She blushed deeply and swatted my arm playfully "Naughty" she said lightheartedly." You have done so well with the collection Mr Big Artiste"
I laughed at her reference to our private drawing session and kissed her cheek. "You cheeky minx" I joked.
Hamish walked over to us and shook my hand "Jack your work is exquisite. I have even taken a couple of enquiries of commissions for you. And I am sure we will have sold the whole collection by the end of the evening"
I beamed; I could not believe that people thought my art work was good. In Paris, when I was a grubby drifter people wouldn't look twice at my work. Now I was presented as a married respectable family man in a established gallery I was being taken seriously. I had Molly and Hamish to thank for believing in me.
"Well Hamish" I said "The money will be useful when you let the sold pictures go next week, because Rose and I are having a break and are going to Chippewa Falls for a while, visit family and have a honeymoon"
"Oh" Hamish said in his gruff Scottish voice "That's too bad, I will miss your help, but there a position here for you anytime"
Rose
I stood back and watched Jack talking with Hamish. He was so handsome; he was dressed in simple but stylish clothes made for him by Molly's tailor. His hair was sleeked back and he was clean shaven. He looked every inch a gentleman.
Jack had a unique gift of being able transcend class barriers.
On Titanic when he was at the 1st class dinner he was able to hold his own amongst the snobby people and made my mother and Cals attempt to make him look silly pointless. He was so special. He could see people, and people liked him because he was so genuine. He had taken one look at me and seen through to the real Rose underneath. He was wise, and caring and observant and I loved him.
The baby somersaulting in my womb was another indication of our deep love. Thank goodness this was Jacks baby. I was so relieved I had managed to keep Cal at bay when we were involved. Not for Cals want of trying. I had to keep my bedroom door locked. I shuddered as I remembered.
"Please Rose, let me in, open your heart to me Rose I want you" I could hear his cloying fake voice trying to seduce me when we were on our tour of Europe.
"I will be the first, for ever" he had whispered possessively to me in my stateroom when we had first boarded Titanic and it had made my flesh creep and my heart harden and I had wondered how could I lie and be intimate with a man I never would love.
Only high class propriety and my Mothers iron grip on me had prevented him.
Jack passed me a glass of water and smiled at me. Our marriage so far had been blissful, fun in the daytimes, walking on the beach, going with Jack while he painted, picnics, going to the movie house and the nights, slow gentle nights of passion, we could not get enough of each other. I was very lucky to have escaped the chains that had bound me and found the wonderful Jack Dawson, now a successful artist.
October 1912
Philadelphia
Gerard
The evening light was fading fast. It was a pleasant October autumn evening at Crosswinds. My Father and Mother were out at the theater to watch a new play
It was after dinner and I went into the library to have an after dinner cigarette and a whisky.
I was feeling low; Emily and I had weren't getting on as we had been. She had left for her parent's house. She seemed to have lost her spark and was very morose and quiet
"Emily sweetheart, please talk to me" I had said to her. We were sat down by the lake of Crosswinds, it was sunny and warm and were drinking champagne, but the smile did not reach her eyes and she did not talk to me as animated as she had weeks before. The happy girl who had danced with me and made me laugh was gone. Even my mother had mentioned Emily's mood swings.
"What is the matter?" I had reached for her hand, it laid there in my palm motionless. "Are you ill, is there anything I have done". She turned her small pale face to me, tears slipped from her wide baby blue eyes. I held her to me as she cried like a child. That was what I liked about her originally, her innocent naivety and childlike dreaminess, she was uncomplicated and sweet
"Why do you cry so?" I asked. She whispered that she had wedding nerves and that my family intimidated her.
"I know my father can be powerful but he is an important man and my mother is French and outgoing and has Cross winds to manage, this how she is. And Caledon, well he is grieving and raw after Roses escapades" I soothed her.
As I mentioned Cals name the tears flowed more. His dark moods frightened Emily. "Emily I know he is moody and surly but he has been hurt" She clung to me saying how she loved me and always would. It was concerning me these crying fits and melancholy. I just hoped it was all the big plans for the wedding that were scaring her, she was so young and vulnerable but she'd be fine with me to guide her, she would be a caring tender wife and mother to my children and she had a good name to boot.
Caledon walked into the library at that point, glass of brandy in his hand. He has been better tempered recently, father had let him run one of the mills and it kept him busy and his Valet Bonner seemed on the verge of discovering the runaway Bride.
My brother was different to me, he always had been hotheaded. As a child he had terrified me, the ten year age gap mighty. My mother always made sure she protected me from his rages when she could.
"Gerry" fifteen year old Caledon roared "You have taken my cricket bat again haven't you?"
I had run helter skelter from the nursery as Cal chased me with his back eyes burning like hot coals but my five year old legs were no match for my athletic teenage brother. He grabbed me roughly and dragged me back to the nursery.
The nurse maid was not there. The intensity and coldness of my brother frightened me and I started screaming for my mother. He sat in a chair and smacked me with hard blows across my rear.
I yelled as the pain ripped through me.
"This will teach you, I am your elder, I am better than you, say I am sorry" he snarled
"I am sorry, let me go, Mummy" I screamed. He tipped me roughly on the floor and casually walked away.
"I am my fathers first born Gerard" he mocked "You are the French Whores brat"
I had never forgotten this and kept well out of his way in the future.
Cigarette?" Cal offered. He seemd to be taking the news that Father was settling half the fortune to me onthe eve of mine and Emilys wedding well.
"Don't mind if I do" I replied. We sat in the wing chairs smoking in companiable silence.
"Has Emily returned home?" he asked in amused tones. "Yes, unfortunately she seems to be having wedding jitters" I said.
We eyed each other up. My brother was very handsome, dark eyes, hair, my father's strong personality and determination and his pleasant polite facade which hid the cold Hockley temper. My brother was a man to admire and a man you would not want as your enemy.
I could not understand why Rose had escaped. They had seemed so well matched and Cal had been well pleased, they both had the same cultured upbringing and the same outgoing ambition and personality. She was fiery and redheaded and beautiful, a great foil for Cals temperament. What has made her run?
Caledon and I made polite small talk about the mill and then went to our rooms for the night. My brother was an enigma. I would never understand him.