Thanks a lot to my two awesome betas, ShadowsLight91 and Saphiranna. Again, I own nothing but The Ladies (Aoife, Saoirse, Niamh, Margaret and Fiona), and make no claim to anything related to Titanic.
My recent move has taken a lot out of me and I haven't been writing much, but I will be posting the next chapter as soon as I can punch it out. Also, I've done some revising on the previous chapters, reworking bits of the characters' Irish accents and bits of dialogue. Might be worth a reread!
To my reviewers:
LOTRluvrofRent - Yes, the names are Gaelic! And no, I'm not familiar with a song by the name 'Anything But Ordinary', but I am thinking of renaming the story. That is, if I'm able to think of another title. :P
Simply Laura - Thanks for the review!
Thanks for reading!
Later that day...
One thing I can't say about me Auntie is that she was wrong when she said we should get an early start and make it to the docks as soon as possible. I have never seen so many people gathered in one place in me life! It was madness as the Cadillac pulled into the White Star Line shipyard, movin' faster than it probably should've; we were embarrassingly late due to the sheer amount of people in the streets that day. Mr. O'Branagan simply laid on the horn and drove straight through the masses, narrowly missin' the toes of the people on the ground.
There were passengers and their well-wishers gathered as far as the eye could see, even some people whose sole purpose of bein' there was to see the ship up close and watch it take to the sea for the first time.
As we turned one final corner into that ship yard, Titanic finally came into view. The look of reverence on Niamh's face mirrored my own, and even Fiona was gapin' open-mouthed at the sight of it.
It looked magnificent, risin' majestically out of the cool waters with its smoke stacks soarin' high above our heads. I tell ye, it was like hearin' angels singin' as I looked up at Titanic, and they were singin' of beauty and luxury, and most of all, freedom! My breath caught in my throat as the realization crept over me. I was gonna to be boardin' that ship. I was gonna to be one of the first passengers on the luxurious Titanic. Fer once in my life, I was gonna be one of the lucky ones!
It took me a moment to realize as I stared up from out the window that I was bein' poked gently in the arm. I looked over to see Niamh, her eyes the size of saucers. She looked from me, to the ship, and back to me again.
"We're boardin' the Titanic," she said in a dreamy voice, as if this was the first time it had really dawned on her.
I nodded, a smile creepin' to my lips as I whispered "We are. "
"Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"
Niamh and I shot a look to the seat in front of us, where Fiona sat lookin' just as astonished as we did. When we realized that she had been talkin' to us, we exchanged a grin. It was a rare thing, Fiona smilin', and an even rarer thing that she was smilin' while talkin' to either of us!
Mr. O'Branagan quickly hopped out of the driver's seat, headin' first for Aunt Margaret's side of the car, takin' her hand and escortin' her out, then makin' his way over to Fiona to do the same for her. The drivers of the automobiles behind us had also exited their vehicles and were now instructin' the nearest officers on where the luggage should be delivered.
I quickly swung the door open and stepped out amidst the madness which surrounded us. Niamh quickly followed me and stood gawkin' at the ship. I smiled and rounded the automobile, headin' for the luggage car to pick up any suitcases I could carry. When I realized Niamh wasn't behind me, I looked back. There she was, still standin' dumbfounded.
I laughed and called loudly over the crowd, "Niamh! Com'on, help me with the luggage."
I spun back around, this time inadvertently bumpin' into a passerby, causin' the both of us to trip.
"Whoa, there!" I felt two strong hands grip my shoulders as I steadied myself. "You okay, miss? I didn't see ya..."
"I wasn't watchin' where I was goin', I'm sorry..." We were both speakin' at the same time, and I tried to look apologetic as I stared up at the man I'd bumped into, but I couldn't keep the smile off my face. It was all just too bizarre! I couldn't have ever dreamed I'd be about to board a ship like Titanic, and there I was, gettin' ready to.
The man, I reckoned he was a third class passenger if he was a passenger at all, glanced up at the ship, then back to my smilin' face. He nodded in its direction, a stray curl fallin' out from under his bowler hat as he said with a grin, "She's beautiful, ain't she?"
The smile on my face grew. "Amazin'."
Niamh walked past me a moment later, headed for the luggage car. Suddenly reminded of my duties, I nodded at the grinnin' man, before sayin', "Excuse me."
He mumbled 'no worries' as I walked past him and followed Niamh, seein' only the back of her blond head bobbin' through the crowd.
"Evie! Niamh, come on!" Fiona called from the other side of the car; I could see her through the windows wavin' at us with a white gloved hand to come join her and Aunt Margaret. Niamh and I sped up, reachin' the luggage car and grabbin' four suitcases out of the back before we headed around.
Within three steps, one of the suitcases Niamh was carryin' had burst open. I paused as she practically leapt for the first piece of clothin' that now scattered across the stones, not wantin' her mistresses' fine clothes trodden underfoot by the hordes of people.
I began to set the suitcases I was carryin' down, but Mr. O'Branagan came to her rescue and helped her gather the garments.
"Go on, miss. We'll take care of this then Miss Niamh will be along." He smiled at me, his heavily winkled face full of mirth.
I grinned back, thanked him, and then hurried along to my Aunt. When I approached her however, she and Fiona were speakin' with another woman, whose face I couldn't see over my Aunt's fashionably gargantuan hat.
As I came to a halt behind her, I could hear the woman she was conversin' with sayin', "... They say it is the most decadent liner ever created, and my daughter compares it to the Mauretania!"
I furrowed my brow as I tried to recall where it was that I'd heard that voice before. Sort of high pitched and somewhat squawky... well, that could have been any number of my Aunt's dear society friends. A moment later, when my Aunt turned to face the ship, quite possibly to make some droll remark about how they could've made it even better, I caught a glimpse of bright red hair.
'Dewitt-Bukater! Ah, what's her first name... not that I'll be able to address her by it, God forbid... Ruth, that's it...'
I was caught up in my reverie so much that I barely paid any attention to my Aunt's conversation with Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater until o'course I heard the red-headed woman say, "Margaret, where is that niece of yours? We were sure she would be accompanying you. She does have family in America, isn't that what you said?"
I gave no immediate reaction. In fact, I was sure I hadn't heard her correctly - she had to have been talkin' to some other Margaret about some other niece. Surely Aunt Margaret wouldn't have told any of her friends about the niece she took in, the one who works like a maid and sleeps in the attic. Nah, there had to be some explanation.
I looked up at my Aunt and noticed that her shoulders had slouched considerably. I furrowed my brow in confusion.
"Oh, ehm..." my Aunt started to reply, a hand comin' up to straighten her hat and tuck a few curls under its brim. Was she... no, she couldn't be stallin'!
Before she could say anythin', I heard Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater say in a low tone of voice, "You know, I was telling the Countess just yesterday that it seems you've had a ghost living with you! We never see the girl out anywhere, though with such a long illness I suppose there's reason for it. But, we had thought she would be accompanying you nonetheless..."
My stomach turned over at the woman's words. I turned around to see Niamh comin' through the bustlin' crowd toward us, intact suitcases in hand, still grinnin' from ear to ear. When she saw the somewhat sour look on my face, her smile faded.
"What's wrong, Ev..." she began to ask as she came up next to me.
"Shhh!" I whispered. I tilted my head towards my Aunt and my very pale-lookin' cousin.
"My niece, of course..." Aunt Margaret mused out loud, and Niamh gave me a questionin' look. I shrugged and listened as my Aunt continued, laughin' lightly, almost nervously while she said "I had no idea you'd recall me talking about her..."
"Of course! We really had no idea you had family living with you and Fiona. When you mentioned that you couldn't attend Madame Rousseau's banquet last year because your niece was ill, imagine our surprise! But then last month, wasn't it? At the dreadful woman, oh, what was her name? Something Byron? At her attempt at a soiree, when you were discussing perhaps letting your niece - it's Aoife, isn't it? - get to know the banker's son? We all took it to mean that she was well and simply assumed that she would be aboard."
During Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater's speech, however far-fetched it seemed to me at the time, I began puttin' pieces of the puzzle together. All those little bits that didn't fit when she was askin' me to come aboard... Callin' me Evie, instead of Aoife for one. Her mates knew her niece's name. And my not callin' her Aunt Margaret but Mrs. Addisson in public…
But still, that left a lot of new questions unanswered. I'd never been ill, well, not seriously enough for Aunt Margaret to miss one of her get-togethers. And ever'one knew Auntie Marge hated that Rousseau woman. And what of this banker's son? I'd never heard a word of it. Mister Evans, the local banker had a right handsome son, no two ways about it, but Aunt Margaret wouldn't think a' settin' me up with him. I spent my days scrubbin' floors on my hands and knees, or runnin' errands, or...
At that moment, my confusion disappeared as everythin' finally fell into place. Aunt Margaret hadn't told her friends about me. She's told them about some fancy niece she had livin' with her, some sickly society type she was nursin' back to health. There was no way Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater nor any of Aunt Margaret's other friends would've given a rat's arse if a maid had gotten sick, and it would be the scandal of the century if one were to be set up with a banker's son. No... Aunt Marge had told them she had to nurse her niece back to health, so she wouldn't have to go to Mrs. Rousseau's party or whatever it was.
From the look Niamh gave me, she had drawn the same conclusion. An expression of disgust spread over her face, and she shook her head at me.
I saw Aunt Margaret out of the corner of my eye, shiftin' nervously, and Fiona next to her lookin' about as pale as a china doll.
Suddenly, under the questionin' gaze of Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater, my Aunt began to speak. And when I say speak, I mean she began to lie through her teeth.
"She is accompanying me."
I could see Fiona's eyes widen, and judgin' by the silence from Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater, it wasn't a good enough explanation. My Aunt continued on. "She's already boarded, you see. She was feeling a bit tired, with all the commotion happening today you can understand why..."
Her voice seemed to fade, as I began concentratin' inordinately hard on the stones beneath my feet. T'was a lot to take on, ye can understand, but now it was even more to think about! How did she think she was goin' to pull this one off? What, was she gonna go the whole voyage tellin' people 'Oh, she's back in her cabin', or 'Oh, she's out on deck', or 'Oh, she's in the library.' People were gonna get wise when no one saw the mysterious niece the entire trip.
I shook my head. 'Her mouth's gotten the better of her again, the ruddy woman! Why on earth would she say that? And why would she do that?! Fer Christ's sake, tellin' people she's got some sickly niece livin' with her, to get outta havin' to consort with people she don't like! She ain't right; she just ain't right in the head...'
I was shaken out of my reverie by the deafenin' sound of the ship's horn blowin', indicatin' last call for any passengers hopin' to board. I looked up to see that Mrs. DeWitt-Bukater, a woman who I assumed to be her daughter, judgin' by their matchin' hair colours, and a young, handsome man dressed in a fine suit were headed up the gangplank already. As I watched them go, struttin' along like they owned the place, I felt someone grab my arm and sharply pull me back.
When I regained my footin', I came face to face with two very ill-lookin' women. And they said I was the sick one!
"What on earth did you do that for, mother?!" Fiona hissed, her eyes borin' into her mother.
"How was I to know she would remember such a casual remark!"
"Which one was casual, Aunt Margaret? The one where ye used a sick niece as an excuse to get out of seein' Mrs. Rousseau, or the one where ye tried to set up said niece with Mr. Evan's son?" I cocked an eyebrow at her, ignorin' all sense of social decorum I might have gained durin' my lessons with Monsieur von Claude.
"Don't you speak to me that way!" Aunt Margaret reprimanded me, but I just shook my head.
"Excuse me.." Niamh began, but I paid no mind to her.
"Why, on God's green earth did ye tell yer friends that ye had a niece livin' with ye in the first place? Couldn't ye have found somethin' better to lie about?"
"Why I never!" She exclaimed, leanin' towards me. I found myself leanin' in also, if not to block out any pryin' ears from the conversation but to get my point across. "You ungrateful..."
"Ungrateful!" I exclaimed, droppin' the suitcases from me hands, and they landed on the cold ground with a thud as I continued. "This comin' from a woman who, instead of acceptin' an invitation to a perfectly fine dinner with a perfectly normal woman, made up some grand lie about a sick niece so she could sit home and sulk!"
"P-Pardon me?" Niamh tried to break into the conversation, but to no avail.
"That's enough!" Fiona jumped into the conversation, puttin' her hands on her hips. I was far from finished.
"And what's this about Mr. Evan's son? Why'd ye go and do that? Ye've only dug yerself in deeper, woman!"
"I needed to grease the wheels with the banker so he would give us an extension on our loan!"
A stunned silence fell in around us, at least around our little circle. Fiona and I couldn't hide our confusion, and Aunt Margaret looked like she was about to faint.
Another short moment passed and before Fiona could open her mouth to question her mother, Niamh's patience burst at the seams and she squeaked out, "The ship is goin' to leave!"
The lot of us looked up at Titanic as the last few passengers were boardin'. Aunt Margaret grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me up to her side before she began stridin' towards the gangplank, Fiona and Niamh gatherin' my discarded suitcases and followin' close behind.
Had I been more inclined to notice at the time, I'm sure we were quite the sight to see. Someone obviously high-class, stridin' as ladylike as possible at a very quick pace towards the loadin' bridge, draggin' a woman dressed as a maid alongside her, with another maid and yet another society lady carryin' the bags behind them! Unfortunately, the comedic element was entirely lost on me as I was pulled along with Aunt Margaret's nails diggin' into my skin.
She began speakin' quietly but with anger clearly seethin' out of her. "You will take the luggage from Fiona when we board, you and Niamh will follow her to Suites B 36, 38 and 40. There she will help you dress, and put up your hair. I should be there within half an hour. We will go over things more throughly then."
The two of us stepped up onto the gangplank, and she loosened her grip on my arm. "Am I understood?"
"... Not really. You... You can't honestly mean for me to..."
"I mean for you to follow my directions." She spat, and then released my arm completely before fishin' the tickets out of her handbag to hand to the man at the door, or hatch, or whatever it was. I turned back, and took the suitcases from a rather sour-lookin' Fiona before she and Aunt Marge stepped into the ship, beckonin' for Niamh and me to follow.
I looked around, as I walked in the entrance to C deck, surrounded by second and third class passengers. We'd been late, and hardly had time to get to the first class entrance, but nonetheless, the ship was still quite a thing to see from the inside. Butterflies started swoopin' around in my stomach as we followed Aunt Marge to the elevator, and whispered to myself, "What in the name o' Mary just happened?"
"I dunno," Niamh answered what was supposed to be a rhetorical question, "But somethin' tells me this trip ain't gonna be quite the way we thought it would."