The Point of No Return

Chapter 1

When I first got on board the Titanic, my name was Emma Hockley. I got on the ship in Southampton with my brother, Cal, his fiancée and her mother, Rose and Ruth DeWitt Bukater, respectively. And of course, Cal's overbearing valet, Mr. Lovejoy. I hated the lot of them, except for Rose. Rose, it seemed, was the only other actual human being out of our entire group. Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that she was being pushed into marrying my brother.

And the closer the wedding date came, the more detached Rose was. She hardly spoke to anyone – except for answering direct questions and the occasional sarcastic remark (I thought they were funny, everyone else scolded her for them). And without our conversations, which had always done wonders at keeping both of our spirits up, I had no reasons to like the Titanic. I hated it almost as much as I hated the people I was with. As far as I was concerned, the ship's only good point was that it was large enough for me to easily evade my brother and Lovejoy.

The first night we met Molly Brown. It was obvious that Cal and Ruth didn't much like her, but I thought she was wonderful. I loved her sense of humor and how she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. I sat by her at dinner that night, and again at lunch the next day.

The afternoon meal was held in the sun court shortly after the ship stopped to pick up more passengers in Queenstown, Ireland. It was exactly the kind of lunch that I hated. I was forced to sit there and smile while listening to all the mindless small talk.

Joining our group was Molly, as I've already mentioned, as well as two of the men responsible for Titanic – Bruce Ismay and Thomas Andrews.

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all of history," Mr. Ismay bragged. I looked over at Rose and made a show of rolling my eyes, forcing her to stifle a grin. I smiled to myself – it was good to know that she hadn't completely lost herself.

Ignorant of our exchange, Ismay continued, "And our master ship builder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up."

I turned to smile at Mr. Andrews. Unlike the other first class passenger's I'd met, he seemed genuinely nice.

Mr. Andrews, seeming uncomfortable being the focus of the conversation, tried to brush it off. "Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismays. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is," Mr. Andrews paused and thumped the table, making me jump slightly, "willed into solid reality."

A mischievous grin came to Molly's face and she said, "Why're ships always bein' called "she"? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

I let out a laugh, earning myself a glare from Cal. I knew he wanted to say something, but he was distracted as Rose lit up a cigarette.

"You know I don't like that Rose," Ruth warned. Rose just looked at her before blowing the smoke out right in Ruth's face.

"She knows," Cal said and grabbed the cigarette out of its holder and putting it out.

I could tell she was irritated, so I looked over at her and winked – we could sneak out onto the deck and smoke later. She sent me a strained smile as Cal ordered for her. Lamb – one of Rose's least favorite things.

"You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Cal?" Molly asked. Then, ignoring the look on my brother's face, she turned to address Mr. Ismay. "So who came up with the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?"

"Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and safety."

"Have you heard of Dr. Freaud, Mr. Ismay?" Rose chimed in. I smirked – I knew where she was going with this. "His ideas of the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you."

Mr. Andrews and I both began choking on our food as we tried not to laugh. Ruth look at Rose, mortified, and said, "Rose, what has gotten into you?"

"Excuse me," was her only reply before she got up and stalked away from the table.

Sensing she was upset, I followed a few moments later. When I caught up with her, she was standing by the railing to the B-Deck promenade, which also separated the first and third class decks. I glanced down for a moment and saw three men, one of them staring intently at Rose as the other two laughed at him.

"Looks like you have an admirer," I said. She turned and started to smile, but then grimaced as she looked over my shoulder.

"I hope you're proud of yourself," Cal scolded her. Then he turned his glare onto me, "And you, how dare you go around encouraging this kind of behavior? If it weren't for your clothes, someone would probably think you belonged in steerage, the way you behave."

"Shut up, Cal," I snapped at him. I resisted the urge to hit him – I knew that would only resolve in him hitting me back and probably twice as hard – and instead stalked over to the gate and climbed down the stairs to the lower deck. If he thought I belonged in steerage, then fine. I would sit down here with the people from steerage.

Unsure of what to do with myself once I dismounted the stairs, I approached the three gentlemen I had seen earlier. Two of them, one with curly red-brown hair underneath a bowler hat and the other with dark brown hair and olive skin, were still grinning. The third, the one who had seen Rose and no doubt the exchange we'd had with Cal, looked mildly concerned.

"Mind letting me in on the joke?" I asked, addressing the two grinning boys.

They looked at me with wide eyes and confusion on their faces. I began to grow uncomfortable with their staring. And not just the three I had spoken to. I could feel the other passengers around me staring as well. Maybe it was a bad idea to come down here.

"Uh . . . sorry. I guess I'm interrupting." I swallowed hard and my one hand automatically went up to fiddle with the pins in my hair. I turned and began pulling them out one by one, letting my dark hair fall free down my back as I started towards the stairs.

To my surprise, it was the one in the hat who stopped me. I felt his hand, gentle but firm on my elbow as he turned me to face him. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and held his other hand out to me. "I'm Tommy Ryan."

I smiled again and shook his hand. "Emma Hockley."

"I'm Jack, and this is Fabrizio," the one who had been staring spoke up.

"Well, what brings you down here, Miss Emma Hockley?" Tommy asked in his thick Irish accent. I could sense a sarcastic edge to his voice. It stung slightly, but I couldn't blame him.

"You saw what just happened up there." I pointed up to B-Deck. "Why the hell would anyone want to go and stay around people like that? You three seemed to be having fun, so I thought I'd join in."

"My god, I think you might actually be human," Tommy grinned. I took it as a sign of approval and smiled back. I started to feel like I could just look at him smile and listen to his accent all day.

"And I'd like to stay that way, which is why I cannot go back up there." I didn't bother telling them that jumping ship would be more appealing than going back to finish lunch.

As promised, here is chapter one. I hope you enjoyed it, and I also hope that I will be hearing from some of you in the form of reviews. I would love to know what you guys think so that I can judge what I'm doing right and what needs to be improved.

Regards,

Meagan.