April 10,1912 12:00 Noon Southhampton
Helen walked across the open promenade, taking deep breaths. The stewards' comment about 'Mr. Magnus' had unsettled her. After all the long years, everything John had put her through, everything he had done, she still wanted to be Mrs. Druitt. At the same time the idea made her sick.
She sighed and leaned against the railing, not caring if her white gloves got dirty. It was a ridiculous fashion anyway. Why white gloves? Like the world was a filthy abhorrent thing. As though women of society were so fragile, the second the touched the horrible world, they would die from the exposure. And why why why did the go all the way up to the elbow? Did women in New York even wear the tedious things? Helen snarled and began removing the offensive white gloves. She was startled by a sudden blast from the horn and looked up as a gangly young man came and stood beside her.
"Incredible, isn't she?" He smiled. "The propellers alone are amazing. Two have three blades, measuring 23 feet and 6 inches, weighing in at 38 tons. The center propeller 16feet, and 6 inches, weighs 17 tons, all of them solid bronze "
"Certainly is magnificent." Helen admitted in awe. "Were you one of the builders?"
The man laughed. "No. I'm just an engineer who knows quality work when I see it. I'm Cameron, by the way."
Helen was about to reply when she heard a cry.
"Look out!"
Helen looked up in time to see the SS New York snap free of her moorings and lunge forward. Helen gripped the railing nervously. In her peripheral vision she saw a man in titanic uniform arrive on deck.
"Hard to starboard! Hard a starboard!" He called. The yell reverberated throughout the ship, like a long echo. Slowly, all too slowly, the ship inched to the right, away from the oncoming Ship.
Helen watched with wide eyes and barely breathing as a small tugboat marked Vulcan slipped between the two ships, pulling the prow of the New York away from the Titanic.
Several deck hands nearby roped in the empty ship. Helen breathed a sigh of relief.
"That was close."
"A little too close!" A man said "I'm getting off in France." he shook his head and hurried off.
Cameron rolled his eyes. "Superstitious old fool." He laughed. "Ridiculous woman's talk turns my stomach. No offense" he added to Helen who made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat.
"If you excuse me I have to go." She said coldly and walked off. She thought maybe there was any information in the library. Sure it would be marked as fictional, but even an obscure reference could open doors.
Notes Cameron Jamison (Brownie points for who can guess where his name is from) Is a fictional charater. We wanted someone who was a boor and a jerk without hurting the reputation or tarnish the memory of anyone who really sailed on Titanic.
Slainte,