Chapter 2- Boarding
April 10th 1912
Nineteen year old Rose DeWitter tugged at her mother's arm slightly, as the wagon made a rather abrupt stop on the dock.
"Come on Mum or we'll be late!" the younger of the two women said excitedly.
Rose and her mother would be working on this, Titanic's first voyage, and Rose personally hated being late for anything.
"Alright, Rose- slow the carriage a wee bit" Ruth laughed as she paid the wagon fare.
Personally, she felt that four pence a piece was a bit expensive, but she and her daughter would receive that and more as well as free passage on Titanic.
Ruth and Rose boarded the large ship through the servants' entrance off to the side. As the two were trying to find the staterooms that they would have on one of the lower decks, Ruth was stopped by someone calling her name. She turned and noticed their gracious benefactor, shipbuilder, and close family friend, Thomas Edmund Andrews.
"Ruth! Ruth DeWitter!" he called, waving to her. Ruth smiled at the young man who was no older than twenty-eight, as he came near.
"Well hullo, Mr. Andrews. It's so lovely to see ye again!" Mr. Andrews let out a good natured chuckle.
"Ruth, you know I've always been Tomas to you, even after Charles died."
(A/N: I've taken license here and switched Mr. Andrews' name to 'Tomas' in this sentence, since he's Irish…Rose and the others will call him 'Thomas' (or Mr. Andrews as the case may be ^_^ ))
Rose looked at the man in surprise. He had known her father? She surveyed this man, Thomas, as he called himself.
He was tall, very handsome, and looked to be only a mere eight to ten years older than Rose herself.
Looking at his hands clasped in front of him, she noticed they were large and strong, a worker's hands…the hands of a ship builder.
"Rose!" Rose snapped to attention "I'm sorry" she murmured. "What was it ye said?"
Ruth eyed her daughter mischievously. She'd seen the way Rose had eyed Mr. Andrews.
"I said, dearie, that this gentleman is Mr. Thomas Edmund Andrews…he was a friend of your father and I, long before you were born…He built the Titanic."
Rose nodded, and looked at Mr. Andrews. He looked down at her, a smile on his face and mirth in his eyes.
"A pleasure to meet you sir" Rose said, curtsying slightly. Mr. Andrews smiled at her, outstretching his hand.
"An honor, m'lady" he winked, kissing her hand.
Rose blushed. Ruth smiled a little and cleared her throat.
"Now Rose, Mr. Andrews and I have spoken, and we are to report any trouble with the ship or other staff to him."
Rose nodded. "Right, then" said Mr. Andrews "If you ladies will follow me, I will assist you to your rooms"
Ruth and Rose did as asked and followed the gentleman up the stairs and to his office.
Once entering, Mr. Andrews walked to the top left drawer in his desk and pulled out a ring of keys.
"If you ladies will follow me" the man said, noticing that Rose had stepped toward the window and seemed to be staring out past the ship, past the passengers, and far to the horizon, to the sea.
I wonder if she misses Ireland as I do. Thomas thought. Perhaps we shall return there together someday…
Thomas rid his head of the thought…he'd just met the lass, there was to be no thought of that kind, especially of Charles' daughter. Thomas shook his head.
Charles DeWitter had constantly been on his mind, everyday even, since the accident, but Andrews found he could not rid himself of the nightmare that had happened nearly ten years ago.
Thomas shuddered as he thought about it. It was as if it had happened just yesterday…
Flashback
Charles DeWitter had been a good man, an Irishman through and through. Thomas could still hear his burly commanding voice as he barked orders to the builders on the ship, the Arizona.
"Alright, lads, steady 'er now! Oy! O'Malley! Hoist 'er up on yonder port side!"
The men were hard at work hauling shipments of lumber and steel up to the main deck at sea. Young Thomas Andrews, eighteen at the time, watched in fascination as ten men, all bronzed and sweaty from the Irish mid-day sun beating on their backs, hauled five tons of steel by rope to the main deck of the Arizona. Suddenly, Peter Andrews, Thomas Andrews' father, came over to stand beside him, surveying the progress.
"How goes it over yonder, Tomas?" Peter asked.
Thomas grinned. "As smooth as the sea herself, sir" he saluted.
Peter grinned. "Aye, good lad…ye keep an eye on things, and holler if there's trouble."
Thomas nodded and looked back to the workers as his father walked away.
There was trouble. One of the starboard ropes was loose, and the sailor needed help with it. Unfortunately, one of the other mates let go of the rope while the others looked at the commotion. The ropes slacked, and Charles was underneath the load…
Thomas ran as fast as his feet would take him. He was thirty feet away from the workers, and he prayed he'd get there in time. How on earth could these men be so careless? Thomas finally got toward the group of men and grabbed hold of Charles' rope, pulling for all he was worth.
"Oy, ye sluggards! Get ye to yer ropes, Now!" Thomas hollered.
He and the others pulled harder, but Thomas could already hear the sickening pull of three of the ropes starting to snap.
"Oy! Dat! Hurry! We can't hold it much longer! Charlie, get out of there!" Thomas hollered.
Peter Andrews hurried to his son's side, grabbing the rope from him. He just barely saw Charles DeWitter under the load, trying as quickly as he could to make it from underneath the long and equally wide passage of weight looming above him. How on Earth could this happen?
"Hurry and get the starboard side of this raised! O'Malley! Easy on the port side, man!" Peter pulled along with the others, but he too could hear the slow snapping of ropes. His stomach sank to his shoes.
"I gotta get him 'outta there!" Thomas said, ready to run and save Charles.
"Tomas, no! C'mon, men, Hur- NO!" Peter and Thomas screamed at the same time.
The starboard side of the load tilted and the mates moved out of the way without any consideration for Charles. He was still underneath…
"No! Charles!" Peter screamed, as the seventy- five tons collapsed onto his friend. There had been nothing. No scream, no movement, just…
"No!" Thomas shrieked. He ran toward the wreckage, wanting to beat the devil out of any of them who dared not to save his father's friend. Charles DeWitter had been a kind, gentle man, with a wife and a ten year old daughter at home. How would he tell them? That their father and husband died by his hands?
Peter stopped his son and grabbed Thomas, pulling the boy to his chest. That scene was unfit for any man…Charles DeWitter had in a sense, been murdered. Peter shielded Thomas from witnessing the gruesome scene.
"There, now Tomas…steady lad" Peter whispered hoarsely.
Thomas continued to weep softly. "'Tis all my fault Dat…I should have gotten there sooner"
Peter held his son by the shoulder, shaking him slightly.
"No use in blamin' yerself, boyo...what happened to Charles was an accident... don't let yer mind decieve ye"
End Flashback
Thomas shook his head, rubbing his forehead with his handkerchief.
It was true that Charles Ivan DeWitter's death had been an accident, but despite what his father had told him all those years ago, Thomas still took on the burden of responsibility.
Peter had told Ruth the truth years ago, but Thomas had not had the heart to tell them that he had been a part of the whole catastrophe.
Poor Rose Thomas thought. He felt guilty in a sense, her not having a father. He'd met her only that night, while traveling with his father to bear the bad news.
He remembered her as a small little girl, with long red braided hair and tears in her stunning blue eyes.
Thomas saw those tears now, as she looked at him, as she remembered the fateful night that she learned of the tragedy that took her father's life.
Coming quickly to his senses, Thomas smiled at the two ladies, and escorted them to their rooms, the two vacant ones next to his on the prominent A-deck.
Rose took one look at the marvelous stateroom and gasped. Thomas smiled softly to himself. She had obviously never seen anything so grand.
"T-this is mine?" she asked. Thomas nodded his head. "Yes, Rose...its yours" She gasped again, letting out a happy little giggle as she took in her surroundings.
There was a fireplace at one side of the room, ornately designed in golden bordered cherry-wood. The screen covered the fireplace, and the tools were made of brass.
On the other side of the room, the bed looked beautiful with its four posts acting almost like a canopy.
Rose looked around the room in awe, gently touching everything, from the marble sitting table by the oval mirror on the wall, to the beauru drawrs to hold her clothes, though she didn't have many.
Rose smiled again as she ran her hand along the bedspread, sat down, and bounced once or twice.
"I suppose I'll have to dust in here too, she said with a grin"Thomas shook his head surprised. "No, Rose, there will be a maid to come in here to clean yours and your mother's rooms. I've spoken with the staff, and everything is taken care of"
Rose gasped. "Oh, Mum! Is it true?" Ruth smiled from the doorway. "Aye, love...our Mr. Andrews here has thought of nothing except our comfort, even while we work" Thomas blushed modestly.
"Ah, it feels as if this were a dream" Rose giggled again, doing a slight jig around the room. Thomas laughed to himself. Such a lively, spirited lass Rose was.
"Oh, Mr. Andrews...How can I ever thank ye?" Rose rushed to him, extending her hands out to him, but as if she remembered her place, she placed them quickly behind her back. He was near royalty for goodness sake!
Thomas couldn't help but notice the slight pang of hurt he felt, as she hid her hands. Such small dainty hands they were, though strong, and made for work.
How lovely they would fit in his, he was sure, complete perfection. Being twenty-eight, he was single, and unattached. After the death of Charles DeWitter, all thoughts turned to working off the debt he felt he owed, to the world, and to Charles DeWitter and his family.
That work had culminated into the finished Arizona. During that time, Thomas had felt no need to think about, or look for a wife.
Now, however, with Titanic a sailing success on her way to New York, Thomas had a little more time on his hands, despite the bothersome need to go about the ship, analyzing problems, and seeing to passengers' complaints.
Thomas continually was bombarded with problems, therefore, he kept a small black notebook and pen with him at all times.
Thomas was now shaken out of his thoughts by Rose asking him a question.
"Mr. Andrews, is there a specific place my mother and I are to start working?" Thomas shook his head.
"No, Rose, you and your mother are not to start until this evening, when everyone is at dinner" Rose nodded.
Ruth looked thoughtful. "And I, Mr. Andrews? How am I to start mending?" Thomas smiled, trying not to laugh.
"Not to worry, Ruth. I have asked that all passengers place their mending clothes into a small basket in their rooms. Rose will see to the tidying of the rooms, while ye set yer nimble fingers to that fancy needlework of yours" he grinned.
Ruth laughed slightly, blushing modestly. "Oh, Mr. Andrews! Really now, imagine ye setting yer fancy on an old maid like me"
At this all three laughed. "Yer not old, Mum" Rose smiled, petting her mother's arm. Ruth chuckled a little. "Nay, maybe not, but yer a better fit for Tom here, than me, Rosie"
Rose blushed, and her eyes glassed over at the mention of the pet name her father had used. Thomas winced, then cleared his throat.
"Now, If ye come with me, how about I give ye your own private tour of Titanic?"
Rose looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Really?"
Thomas nodded, reaching for her hand. "It's the least I can do to show how grateful I am" Mr. Andrews kissed Rose's hand again, and her blush was about as red as her hair.
"Oh, erm, thank ye" she giggled nervously. Ruth chuckled. "Now, then you two...let's get a hurryin' before the others board."
Thomas and Rose looked at her, both blushing a light pink. Blue stared up at brown, and both locked for at least two minutes.
"Come along!" Ruth clucked. Rose felt a little slighted by her mother's intrusion. Such intensive, kind, beautiful brown orbs that such graced the man, Thomas Andrews, and little did she know, he was thinking the same of her blue eyes.
"Perhaps we'd better...?" Rose started. Thomas cleared his throat. "Aye, perhaps we should" With that, the two Irishers left the room, Thomas being careful to lock the door and place the key in his pocket before he left.
How ironic it was. He had only known her for the space of an hour, and yet, he was the only one with the single key to the girl's room.
I'll give it to her later Thomas thought to himself, But no, 'tis best I keep it, else it may be gone...
(A/N: What he didn't ponder though, was that it would be an excellent excuse for him to walk Rose to her stateroom each evening...that's an interesting prospect ^_^)
Thomas shook his head and walked on. It wouldn't be long before Titanic sailed. He hurried to catch Rose and Ruth. Oh how glorious this voyage would be!