Eight:
The rocky cargo train shook both Jack and Fabrizio and they clutched at whatever they could to prevent them from been tossed out. Their backpacks were tucked away on their back as they carried all of their personal belongings in one place. Fabrizio's stomach wasn't as strong as his friends, as he had discovered in previous weeks after drinking strong beer. He squeezed his eyes closed and Jack chuckled.
''Hey, you all right?''
Fabrizio opened one eye to see Jack through a blurred vision as he stood clinging to a cage which was filled with transported goods. He tried to shake his head.
''No, I...no like this.'' He spoke loudly, in his broken English.
''Don't worry. We will go at the next stop.'' Jack used gestures which his friend may understand, a nod from Fabrizio ensured he got what was being said. He went back to closing his eyes and holding on for dear life.
Out of the open doors, green trees, blue sky and everything else merged together as they world blurred by. They had stowed away at a train station in London and now all he knew was that they were heading South. They had been on the train for around forty minutes. Excitement lingered in jack's stomach; he was eager for their next adventure. Who knew where that would be. He glanced over at Fabrizio, his eyes remained closed. His own hands were hurting from grasping onto the cages. His eyes watched the rattle of the suitcases inside some of the cages. They were real leather. Some posh bastard would be pissed if their luggage were spoiled. A smirk played at his lips. Just what was this train transporting?
Fabrizio began to mutter something and Jack knew that he was mid prayer.
''Hey, stop the damned prayers, we are all right.''
''You not know. My hand...both- I cannot feel.''
Jack laughed. ''Just a little longer.''
Fabrizio stared through his dark, Italian eyes and narrowed them. ''You pazzo.''
The train came to a huge halt, the breaks felt as though they were working overtime to stop with the weight. It threw Jack into the cage and Fabrizio went crashing into him; together they landed in a heap on the wooden floor of the cart.
''Shit, ouch.'' Jack cursed as the wood scraped across his bare hands. He went to shove Fabrizio off his leg when a face appeared from nowhere.
Jack didn't stand around long enough to take a look at the man or where he was coming from. He grasped Fabrizio by the backpack and went to the open door. The train had slowed down to an almost stop.
''All right, we have to move.'' Jack shouted above the grind of the engine. Fabrizio glanced to the drop out of the train, fear flashing in his eyes.
''Bend your legs and jump.''
He watched Jack and adopted the same pose just a second before they were almost caught aboard the train. They jumped, rolling into a patch of dry grass.
''Are you all right?''
Fabrizio dusted his knees, trying to walk and finding out he could. A grin spread across his face.
''Yeah.''
Jack glanced about as to where they are.
''Look!'' Fabrizio pointed South. ''Titanic!''
The first few days of April were spent with no particular events taking place. Aside from a handful of days spent inside during the rain.
Jack jumped awake, his eyes opening immediately before adjusting to the dark light. His heart was hammering against his chest, almost as though he had jumped from that speeding train...Fabrizio. He took a large gulp of breath as he swung his legs out of bed. Rose still slept soundly beside him, with her plump lips parted and a hand across her chest. His heart still swelled with love just by looking at her.
A feeling of presence filled him and his eyes glanced about the room, as though it was eerie. He didn't know what it was and he couldn't explain it. A small whimper from Elizabeth's crib knocked the thoughts from his head and he started towards his daughter. She lay awake in her cot, with large wide eyes brimmed with tears.
''Hello, beautiful.'' Jack whispered, as he removed her from the crib whilst still wrapped in blankets and placed her on his chest right away with her face pressed against his neck. She nuzzled in close and the whimpers stopped immediately. ''You wanting a cuddle, huh?''
He settled himself in an armchair at the foot of the bed which Rose used during the night feeds. He felt his eyes already shutting but he fought himself to stay awake just a little while longer. The eerie feeling seemed to have vanished a little and he wondered if it was because he had been pulled from the middle of a dream; or more, he had been reliving just how he and Fabrizio came to be at Southampton Docks the day the Titanic set sail. They had stowed away and were almost caught. A smile crossed his face. Fabrizio, my friend...
Montmartre, March 1912.
In a haze of black curls, Nell fell backwards against the dark plum satin sheets which she called her bed. She spread out her arms like wings, relishing the feel of cool satin against her soft skin.
''Oh Jack.'' She sighed, lightly.
Her naked form was not something she was ashamed of. She sat upright, fanning herself with her left hand.
''Why do you make me feel just like a bird?'' She asked, in her thick French accent. ''I look so beautiful.''
Throwing a worn-down piece of charcoal onto a completed drawing, Jack Dawson closed his portfolio. He pushed his dirty hands into his pants pockets and shook his head in fake disapproval. His hair fell into his eyes and he nodded it away with a swish of his head. Nell came to him, placing both of her hands on his cheeks. They were soft, stubbly and warm.
''What woman here wouldn't want their hands all over you.''
Jack raised his eyebrows but he didn't stop smirking. He took Nell's hand in his own for a moment before removing them from his face. ''I told you before.''
''Yes, yes. You are not one for romance. For a woman. But Jack, you need a woman!'' She told him, her voice so rich and intoxicating. If he hadn't been as well acquainted with her, she may have seduced him in that moment.
''Hmm.'' He collected up his portfolio of drawings. ''I need a beer.''
Nell tutted as she pulled a black kimono over her body. It was sheer, with feathers at the collar and sleeves. She pulled her mane of hair over her shoulder. Jack watched her. She was stunning. He should have been amazed at her flawless beauty and yet he managed to breathe through her seduction.
''And, you are beautiful.'' He told her, seriously. ''The drawing isn't anything but what I capture and put on the paper.''
Nell fanned herself once more. The colour of roses staining her cheeks and yet she could feel the flushness returning naturally at his compliment. ''Oh, Jack.''
She came to him with a sinking heart. ''Perhaps, you and I, we will be in another world.''
He smiled at her comment. ''Perhaps. One hundred and fifty years from now.''
Nell's dark eyes fell to the floor, her lashes fluttering as she tried to not expose herself to this man too much. In that moment, she knew that they would never be. She took a huge clean breath and felt her lungs twinge.
''Come. '' Nell took hold of his strong arm as she linked hers through. Jack allowed her to lead him out of her room.
The roars from the bar down stairs clouded the air as they made their way across the wooden hallway towards another room. Men flocked here most nights to escape the daily life. Many notable artists lived and worked in Montmartre, where the rents were low and the atmosphere congenial. Jack had found himself amongst them one evening whilst out alone, he had stumbled across the bar. Nell had collared him almost right away and invited him to her room. He hadn't paid and she hadn't asked for any token of money. A man's company could be sexless sometimes. A friendship had formed that first night. In Jack, she had found a kindred spirit, a free man who floated the earth on a feather and landed wherever he felt the urge to. One day, he would up and leave and she had hoped he would take her with him.
The loud cheers shook Jack's head. He wrapped together his drawings and kept them tucked beneath his free arm. Something was happening tonight. Perhaps, a celebration. A man needed a drink after days like today. It was Spring but yet he had barely made a Frank. He rustled about in his pocket to determine whether or not he could afford a beer.
''I have another client.'' She told him, quietly. Her eyes questioned Jack as to whether or not she would be seeing him later on in the evening. ''Here.'' She reached into the pocket of her kimono, with blood red fingertips she held him out two coins without even looking to see what they were.
Jack shook his head immediately. ''No, Nell.''
''I pay for your work, Jack. It is exquisite.'' She lowered her lashes. His fingertips scraped her hand as he took the coins from her. He scratched his face and ran his fingers through his hair. ''One day when you are a famous artist, I expect to be your first picture on a canvas.''
''Hardly.'' He told her realistically. Paris wasn't the experience which Jack had imagined or even wanted it to be. During the last week or so, he had spent his time in Paris working on his art. He had spent the majority of time alone. He knew that Paris wasn't for him. Dottism and Cubism was taking over. Not many people were interested in portraits anymore but still, he would not give in and each day he would head a little further afield, exploring the place which he had hoped would appreciate his work. Just a little.
Nell disappeared into the next room before winking to Jack. He had stood there, thirty seconds or so as he debated whether he could afford a beer.
''For God's sake, just what can I do with you?'' Nell shouted, her voice irate. Jack narrowed his eyes before deciding whether he should check out the commotion. Usually, he left her to own devices whilst with the customers but something told him to see. He went to the room where Nell had gone.
''What's the matter?'' He poked his head around the door. His eyes met a young Mediterranean looking man, laid out on the bed with rumpled clothes and he appeared he be rubbing sleep away.
''Non capisco.''
''What is this man saying?''
''Non capisco,'' he repeated, stuffing clothes into a rucksack and he placed his cap onto his head as he tried to smooth out his unruly black hair.
''He was asleep on my bed.''
Jack smirked, hiding it with his portfolio. ''Nell, he's Italian.''
''Well, what's he doing on my bed?''
''Non capisco,'' he repeated once more, his eyes flashing with perhaps a little fear.
Jack held his hands up. ''It is all right. We mean no harm.'' He approached him, calmly. ''Do you know French? English?''
''Inglese?''
''Si, you speak Inglese?'' Jack spoke slowly.
The young Italian shook his head.
''He speaks no English.'' Jack sighed to Nell.
She crossed her arms over her buxon chest and the Italian guys eyes travelled right there. She picked up the pillow which he had laid his head on and threw it at him, causing him to fall backwards.
''All right! Thats enough! The poor guy just wanted a place to rest his head.''
''In a whorehouse?''
Jack blinked, biting his his lips to stop his smirk. ''Yes. I will deal with him.''
In slow and broken Italian which he had learnt during a month in Naples just six months before, Jack tried to explain the situation to the young man. He remained silent and nodded occasionally. Glancing to Nell and then back at Jack. His pupils had stopped dilating so much and so Jack assumed his fear had melted away, at least for now.
''Si?''
The young man nodded. ''Si''
Jack turned to Nell, who had stopped her foot stomping and had decided to take a seat on the bed.
''He is all right. He was lost.'' Jack explained. ''At least I think thats what he says.''
''You speak italian?''
''A little bit.''
Nell placed both her hands upon her bare knees. ''I better let him go then.''
''Yes.'' Jack smiled to her. ''I will take him with me.''
A soft hand stroked his hair softly but firmly and he seemed to drag himself from another dream.
''Elizabeth?'' He murmered, his arms were empty. His eyes sprang open. ''Elizabeth!''
She was in her crib, fast asleep.
Rose stood beside him, her hand in his hair. It was wet from his sweaty dream. Jack took a second to focus his eyes again.
''She is asleep.''
Rose's soft voice brought him round. He clasped onto her hand and placed his lips to it ever so gently. She wore her cream, floor length nightgown and he rested against her arm for just a second.
''I keep dreaming. Fabrizio-''
''I heard.'' She told him, softly. ''You were speaking Italian in your sleep.''
He pulled her to sit on his knee and they both rested back in the arm chair. She nuzzled into his chest, feeling hsi warmth.
''Fabrizio. I was thinking about how we met.''
Rose lifted her head from his chest, her eyes shining in the darkness. ''You know what day it is?''
Jack traced a finger from her cheek and down to her lips where he caught her mouth with his own lips just once, beautiful enough to take her breath away. He cradled her head to his, pressing their foreheads together.
''Yes. April 14th.'' He hadn't wanted to remember. ''One year, today.''
Rose bit her lip, running her tongue again it. ''You made love to me for the first time, one year ago today.''
Her words were laced with such love and intensity that Jack felt his stomach clench right away. ''Rose-''
He couldn't say anything to her, for she knew how he felt, she knew everything. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers with such urgency that it lit the brightest fire within her.