An Ocean Between Us

Friday, April 12
A Little Like Catching Fire

"My, my, someone's in a good mood," Delly said over breakfast and Madge froze, her egg sliding off her fork and flumping back onto her plate.

"What do you mean?" she asked, heat starting to climb up her neck. Delly nudged her, smirking.

"You've been smiling all morning. Had a good night?'

Madge blushed. "No, not at all. And why shouldn't I be smiling?"

"You were miserable yesterday, have been ever since your parents decided to leave Ireland. I'm just curious to know what brought about your sudden change of mood."

Madge bit her lip and peeked over at her parents, deep in conversation with Mr and Mrs Cartwright.

"Oh, alright," she sighed but she'd be lying if she said she didn't feel a bit giddy about telling Delly about Gale. Delly leaned towards her eagerly.

"Last night, when I was on the promenade deck, this…boy came up, climbed over the railing."

Delly's eyes went wide.

"From Third Class?"

Madge nodded. "Yes, I actually…saw him before, earlier in the day."

Delly gasped.

"That's what you were staring at!"

Madge nodded again, cheeks flaming. "Yes. Anyway, he climbed up and well, we talked, only for a few minutes, but…oh Delly, he was so handsome."

Delly clapped her hands together with a smile.

"Are you going to see him again?"

Madge blinked in shock.

"Of course not!" she insisted, surprising even herself with her vehemence. Delly frowned.

"Why not? You liked him, didn't you?"

"Well, it doesn't…that's not important! I barely know him, it would be highly inappropriate to spend time with him. And anyways, I know nothing about him and it's not like we'll ever see each other again after we get to America. What would be the point?"

Delly grabbed her hands and squeezed.

"Madge, listen to me. Now is the perfect time. We've left behind our old life and the new one doesn't start until we reach New York. The days we have here, this is when we should be doing things we never would normally-"

"If Father Brown could hear you now," Madge interrupted, face red. Delly frowned at her, more serious than Madge could ever remember seeing her.

"Well he can't. I'm just saying, if you like him, you should give it a chance."

"I don't," Madge said firmly, even as her stomach swooped at the thought of his grin.

"Fine then," Delly acquiesced, "I'll leave it alone."

"Thank you," Madge said with a nod. They turned back to their food and it was for the best really. Everything she'd said was true. There wouldn't be a point. She couldn't be feeling anything but a slight, silly interest in him and there was no reason to pursue it.

Gale was best left behind.

(why then, did what she'd said to Delly feel less like the truth and far more like a script she'd spent her whole life preparing to read?)

"Alright, so I was thinking we'd go for a bit of a walk, get in some fresh air and then we could commandeer some deck chairs and read those books we got from the library. Then we'll go for lunch and after, we can have a dip in the pool," Delly rattled off and Madge laughed.

"You certainly have everything planned out."

Delly grinned.

"I just want to make sure we make the best of our time here."

They started off then, heading for their promenade deck and Madge did everything within her power to banish Gale from her thoughts. Forget him. Just forget him.

(but that smile, those eyes, they were impossible to forget)

She allowed Delly to lead and when Madge looked up, she realized they'd reached the Second Class promenade deck. She couldn't help but look over at the Third Class passengers milling about below them and Oh. No. There he was, Gale, standing by the railing on the Poop Deck again, chatting with a boy about his age. She felt her heart jump and turned to Delly.

"You did this on purpose," she accused and Delly shrugged.

"I just wanted to get a look at him, see if he really was as handsome as you said. So, which one is he?"

Madge frowned, thought about simply walking away but couldn't. She pointed.

"Over there, by the rail."

Delly's whole face lit up.

"Well, aren't they a pair of fine things. Which one is yours?"

"Neither," Madge snapped and then inhaled sharply. "The one with the hat."

Delly nodded approvingly.

"Very nice. I mean, personally, I think the other might be shade more handsome, but yours is still good."

"Delly, he's not mine. I'm never going to speak to him again."

"Of course not," Delly agreed. Madge breathed in again.

"Come on, weren't we supposed to be commandeering deck chairs?"

"Of course," Delly said and they moved off, arm in arm.

(but even with all her denials, Madge couldn't help herself from looking back)

(forgetting might not be as easy as she'd hoped)

All day, Gale haunted her thoughts.

She was meant to be reading some romance she'd borrowed from the library, but every scene ended up twisted in her mind, Gale playing the handsome hero.

"You are my lady love, my truest heart and there is no enemy I would not fight to keep you safe," Gale said, holding her hand against his beating heart. Madge wept bitter tears, devastated at their inevitable parting.

"Take my favour into battle, bravest of all knights," she managed to say, tying her scarf to his gauntlet. "And carry all my love with it."

Gale took her in his arms then, embracing her with-

Madge slammed the book closed. She had to stop, her face so hot she was sure it could melt ice. Delly questioned her and Madge mumbled something about it being terrible, the thought of Gale sweeping her off her feet still fresh in her mind.

Forget him, not fantasize about him!

In the pool she kept wondering what he'd look like in a swimsuit and was appalled with herself. No well brought up young girl should be having such thoughts and yet there they were, ballooning up inside her without end. She could picture him standing by the edge, water glistening on the muscles she'd just gotten hints of beneath his clothes, wet hair shining in the bright lights and his smile charming. She dunked herself beneath the water but it did nothing to cool her down. She was actually surprised the water didn't boil from the heat she could feel circulating through her, her whole body like a furnace.

Somehow, someway, Gale had wormed himself inside her and wouldn't leave.

(but of course, if you asked, she'd say she barely remembered him at all)

(liar liar liar)

Madge knew she was a hypocrite.

After all her talk to Delly about it being inappropriate and pointless, here she was again, sitting on the Second Class promenade deck just in case Gale came back. He wouldn't of course; he'd said last night that it was too risky. Still, here she was and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't embarrassed. He was a stranger, a handsome stranger to be sure, but still a stranger. And yet, it seemed he'd somehow caused her to take complete leave of her senses.

The gossip there'd be if anyone ever found out… She shuddered. It was mortifying just to think about. Late night rendezvous with boys, oh her parents would just die if they knew. Not that it mattered, he wasn't coming. Which was probably for the best. Definitely.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Madge nearly leapt off her bench, her heart jumping up into her throat. She would've screamed, except her voice seemed to have died of fright.

"I seem to be making a habit of scaring you out your skin," Gale said with a laugh, righting himself after his climb up over the railing. Madge pressed a hand to her chest.

"You could have killed me," she accused and Gale laughed again, Madge's consternation fading at the sound. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and moseyed over, stopping just before he reached her bench. She looked up at him, a rush of warmth flooding through her.

"I thought you said it'd be too dangerous for you to come up here?" she asked and he shrugged.

"Some things are worth the risk."

Her chest fluttered and then he grinned, leaning slightly towards her, his eyes glowing in a way that made her want to swoon.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Madge looked at him and there was something about him, not his looks, thought they were gorgeous, something else, something she couldn't put her finger on but it made her trust him, always made her want to smile. Some essence of Gale that touched her every time they interacted.

"No," she finally answered, failing to keep her own grin at bay. He smirked a little wider and then gestured at her bench.

"Mind if I join you?"

She shook her head and scooted over, shy in an excited way. Gale sat down, stretching his arms over the back of the bench and Madge felt hyper aware of everything around them. There were only a few inches between them and she burned, the side of her body tingling with his proximity. He was silent and Madge wasn't sure what to say, so she followed his eyes, turning hers up to the stars. No one said a word and yet Madge couldn't help but find this nice, something peaceful and comforting in the two of them just sitting here.

"It really takes my breath away," she murmured and Gale nodded, a faint smiling pulling at his lips.

"It certainly does." He turned to her and the shift caused his knee to brush hers, goosebumps tickling her skin. "You're Irish then?'

She rolled her eyes.

"How'd you guess?"

He smirked.

"Oh you know, I'm very intuitive."

She laughed.

"Definitely. And I'll bet you're English."

"Brilliant deduction, I dunno how you do it."

"It's a gift."

"Whereabouts in Ireland?" he asked and she found herself leaning slightly towards him, leg pressed against his.

"I'm certain you've never heard of it."

His eyebrow went up, eyes lighting up with the challenge.

"Oh really? Lemme have a guess then."

She gestured at him to go ahead, her smile refusing to dim. He narrowed his eyes in thought, tongue just poking out of his teeth. She couldn't help but stare.

"Dublin?"

She shook her head.

"Alright…um, Belfast?"

She shook her head again.

"Queenstown?"

She shook her head for the third time, a laugh bubbling in her throat. He threw up his hands in surrender.

"Alright, you win. Where're you from?"

"Well, you were close, it's…somewhat near Queenstown. Well, they're both in County Cork, at least. It's called Ballycotton, it's a very small fishing village."

"Do you fish then?"

"No, I don't much like boats."

Gale snorted.

"So this is the perfect trip for you, then?"

"Yes, it's going lovely so far. And what about you, where are you from?"

They were much closer now, their bodies touching all up the side.

"Have a guess," he said and she bit her lip, Gale's eyes drifting downwards.

"London?" she hazarded and he laughed.

"Look at you, first try!"

She beamed.

"I told you. I have a gift."

"Course, London's rather big. Bet you can't guess which part of London," he challenged and Madge shook her head, entirely clueless.

"You ever heard of Whitechapel?' he asked and Madge paused for a second before it came to her.

"Oh! That's where all those murders were, wasn't it?"

"Yep. See, if Whitechapel's the worst part of London, I'm from the second worst part. Stepney." His voice lowered in distaste and Madge giggled into her hand.

"So it could be worse, then?" she asked, just managing to keep the mock serious tone of her voice.

"Terrible," he said, shaking his head even as they both laughed. "Alright then, Miss Irish, is it true you're all as obsessed with potatoes as I've heard?"

She rolled her eyes at his teasing.

"What about you, do you do nothing but sit around drinking tea all day?"

He leaned in very close, so close she was sure she could tilt her head up and knock his nose if she tried.

"Do you not like tea?" he asked and he was so near that she was sure she could count his eyelashes.

"I love it actually, I drink it all the time."

He grinned.

"Well, if we're being honest, I'm a total fiend for potatoes myself."

She laughed and they shared a smile, every part of her feeling warm and happy. She looked up into his face and their eyes met, time seeming to slow all around her. Kiss me, she thought suddenly, drowning in the silver of his gaze. That thought was entirely, totally scandalous, but she found she didn't care. Kiss me, she wanted to beg, felt like electricity was chasing through her veins. He moved closer again and she could feel his breathing, barely more than an inch between them.

"It's getting late," he murmured and she nodded.

"Yes, my parents are probably expecting me."

Neither of them said a word, kiss me echoing around inside of her. He hesitated a moment, her blood hummed and then

"I should go," he said, "someone could come by. I'd hate to get you in trouble."

She nodded, even as her whole body protested at his leaving.

"Goodnight Madge," he whispered, voice soft and sweet like a lazy summer breeze. His eyes lingered on her lips, yearning shaking her bones and then he pulled away, Madge's limbs suddenly cold. He stood and so did she, like she was being pulled along in his wake. She watched him return to the rail, the memory of his silver eyes still making her blood warm. He looked back before he climbed over, a half smile painting his mouth. Their eyes met, held and Madge wished she had something worth saying, something to make him stay.

And then he was gone, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Goodnight," she breathed and never, in sixteen years of life, had any night been quite so good as this.