Ruth Dewitt Bukater had just gotten home from another shopping trip. It seemed to her that this was the only thing that kept her from going crazy. Of course she wouldn't show on the outside, but her health was failing since her daughter's death.

What should she still expect from life if she had already survived her own daughter? Rose had never been an easy child, always questioning things. Ruth had envied her friends for their pretty unproblematic children, but never had she wished for Rose to die. Rose had been her only child and Ruth had loved her from the beginning though she often had had trouble to show it.

'You can't wear that dress.'

'Why?'

'You can't climb on the tree.'

'Why?'

Her fiery red hair inherited from her mother, her piercing green eyes…her voice which wasn't that of a lady at all. Her teachers at the boarding school had quite a lot of trouble with her; many of them had eventually told Ruth that it was vain endeavour.

Ruth knew quite well what everybody kept saying despite their efforts to hide it. They thought it partly if not entirely her fault. Society wasn't kind to people and now they were asking, questioning, whispering behind her back. Ruth could see it in their eyes and understood everything, when their talks suddenly stopped whenever she entered the room.

'Did you hear…?'

'I can't imagine…' they were whispering their heads close to each other.

'What were you talking about?' Ruth would ask, but didn't receive an answer.

'Nice weather today, isn't it?'

And then a little laugh would follow. Ruth knew better then to demand anything though one thing kept bothering her. It wasn't about whatever these ladies were whispering, after Rose's death Ruth didn't give much to society's gossip anymore.

It was something else that almost made her going crazy and again it had something to do with that doomed ship.

What had really happened on the Titanic? How come a first class girl like Rose hadn't been able to get to a lifeboat in time?

Luckily no one had heard about her affair with this little boy, god forbid anyone would, Ruth wouldn't be able to meet with her old friends anymore. They would never understand. A third class boy and a young lady from first…what a scandal…of course the boy had died as well.

Not a very great loss, but still someone, who didn't deserve to die. Unlike Cal, Ruth had never wished for something bad to happen to Jack Dawson. She simply hadn't wanted him near her daughter.

"Please be so kind and take these garments here with you," she called her made her eyes wandering around the room.

Edith, the maid, was there in seconds picking up the parcels.

Ruth couldn't imagine a life without one. How come that Rose had fallen for that poor little nothing? He had nothing to offer her. Rose would've never survived on the streets with him. Actually Ruth was sure that he would've grown tired of her daughter eventually, even it being just for the fact that Rose hadn't even known how to boil water.

Surely a man like him could've gotten every girl he wanted. He didn't need my daughter. Well he obviously needed her just for…

Ruth shuddered slightly at the remembrance of that shameless picture.

How could she have done that?

Ruth didn't even want to think about it, but she was sure that this scene had been followed by an even more intimate one. God forbid, if anyone should ever find out…

The ladies from high society would never understand.

"Oh, my poor dear, I'm so sorry," they had told her, but Ruth wasn't quite so sure.

Were they really? Weren't they just saying what was expected from them?

Rose never had any particular friends and neither had I.

It almost seemed to Ruth that they were glad, happy about Rose's death, gloating over her misfortune. Nothing really special happened during those boring days, but the sinking of the Titanic, the perishing of her daughter, a vibrant young innocent first-class girl, was something special for sure. That was something people could talk about.

At her funeral they had all spoken about Rose like she had been some saint, telling Ruth what a great girl her daughter had been. Still Ruth couldn't help, but think how they weren't really honest. Even Cal had seemed to her like he had been playing a role.

Of course that was silly. Ruth knew that Rose and Cal hadn't loved each other, but they had been engaged and Caledon Hockley was a good man. He hadn't thrown her out even though he must've heard of her debts by now. Cal provided for her now even after Rose was gone. Only a really noble gentleman would do that.

Ruth had been so happy, when Rose had finally accepted his ring. But she still clearly remembered that Rose hadn't been quite as anxious. Why Ruth had never understood most likely, because she had never cared to do so. Now with Rose dead and gone there was no need to anymore.

Maybe it really shouldn't be. Maybe Rose shouldn't have been Mr. Hockley after all and fate had simply corrected things?

Ruth quickly dismissed that thought as it was so ridiculous. She had never met a man more fitting for her daughter than Caledon Hockley. He had everything a woman could wish for. He was young, good-looking with money and moreover intelligent, a combination seldom found. Most bachelors on hand were either twenty years older than there prospective brides or dumb as a horse.

Why couldn't Rose have been more like the other girls? Why did she always have to be the one to question things? Of course the boy on Titanic had been another obstacle though surely not the most important one. Mr. Hockley still believed that the wedding would've gone on as planned, if she hadn't met him, but somehow Ruth knew that the problem had been lying deeper.

Rose's character had simply demanded from her to always do the exact opposite from what was expected of her. Sometimes it had seemed to Ruth that her daughter just wanted to anger her, whether it were the colour of the bridesmaid's dresses, her little fling with this boy – Ruth wouldn't believe even for one minute that there was more than a little affair – how Rose had just loved to annoy her. In fact, now that Ruth thought about it, Rose had even shown some style by choosing that boy. At least he hadn't been quite good-looking.

God, what am I thinking – Ruth scolded herself.

That boy had only brought trouble, how could she even think that…

Rose had been just a little girl knowing nothing about the world and that boy had just taken advantage of her youth, telling her his silly lies. It wouldn't have lasted for sure. They hadn't fitted together.

Ruth let herself sink back into her chair remembering Rose's laughing face and beaming eyes, when she had introduced her to Jack Dawson. Ruth shook her head refusing to let that thought overtake her mind.

But still…Rose had never looked quite like this at Cal.

Her head hurt again. It often did lately. But it wasn't just a normal illness; it was more about that tiny little voice in her head being placed there ever since the sinking of the Titanic.

Why on earth had a rich girl like her daughter not managed to get into a lifeboat in time? What had really happened between Rose and Cal abroad the ship during its last hours? Cal had told her that he had tried everything to save her, but was he speaking the truth?

Caledon Hockley is a gentleman…

Rose had never liked Cal. From the beginning there had been something that had been standing between them. Rose had mistrusted him from the start.

Ruth laughed over her own silliness.

Caledon Hockley was the best thing that had ever happened to her and her family. Rose should've been glad that she had found him.

"Edith, please bring me a glass of water," she called her maid.

While Edith brought her the glass, Ruth had laid back into the fauteuil closing her eyes. Her daughter's young laughing face being placed before her and then she saw Cal again, Rose on his arm. Her smile had faded.

'I did everything to save her,' Cal had told her.

'Rose…Rose…' she remembered shouting after her while the lifeboat was being loaded.

"Madam…your water," the maid had come back.

Slowly and gingerly Ruth opened her eyes, taking the glass from Edith's hand.

"You don't look well. Would you like some tea as well?"

Ruth shook her head.

"Will Mr. Hockley be there for dinner?" Edith asked her putting some cookies on the table.

Ruth had heard her, but she was still too much in trance to answer her.

"Madam?"

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" only now was she fully aware of the maid's words.

"I asked, if Mr. Hockley will be coming for dinner or if he is going to eat outside again?"

Ruth looked at her and suddenly it seemed to her that this question had awakened something inside her.

"Maybe…I don't know…"

"Then I'm going to make some dinner for him too."

"Yes do that…," Ruth said turning her head abstinently to the floor and speaking the last sentence more to herself "I don't know."

Though she tried to hide it the little voice inside her head wouldn't go away.

What was it that Cal didn't want to tell her?