This can't be happening, Cynthia thought. No, no no no no, this isn't happening, this isn't happening.
And yet she was still seeing the Titanic right in front of her, and the thousands of people cheering and waving around her were waving to her.
Cynthia's eyes became glazy as she felt herself move away from the car, stumbling a bit as she did.
This can't be happening, I was just on the bus just before. She now started to breathe in and out quickly, her heart pumping in and out of her chest. I was on that bus and sleeping so how, how is this happening? She gently pushed pasted the people around her. There was no way I can be here right? In 1912?
She could already feel her eyes start to water. These things just don't happen she thought, trembling slightly.
Just as she started to cry, over the cheers of the crowds around her came a voice.
"Mrs Cornell? Mrs Cornell!"
The name was instantly recognisable to Cynthia, and she turned herself around to the voice. There was someone moving in the crowd that was coming towards where Cynthia was standing, and as she got closer Cynthia got a better look at her.
It was a woman, similar in age to Cynthia with dark brown hair which she wore in a bun under a straw-brimmed hat. She wore a white blouse, a black coat and a matching black skirt, in her arms, she carried a couple of suitcases.
"Mrs Cornell!" She called again, trying one of her hands to her, her expression seemed relieved as she made her way up to Cynthia who couldn't find the words to speak.
"Oh, there you are. We thought we'd lost you."
The woman finally makes her way to Cynthia, placing a few of the suitcases down briefly.
"This isn't the way to board the boat Mrs."
Cynthia stared at her, her eyes still watery as she took what she was saying in. Cornell? Why did she call me that? And she blinked a couple of times, the woman still staring at her, somewhat smiling earnestly, like she knew who Cynthia was.
And then it suddenly comes to her.
Does she think I'm Maybelle?
The woman, now suddenly seems to notice Cynthia's shaken state as she looks up and down at her, almost like she's just realised it.
"It's alright Mrs, Let's go back to the car," The woman said, gesturing Cynthia to back to where she wandered from. Cynthia stumbled a bit but followed her lead as the woman grabbed the suitcases again and followed alongside Cynthia back towards the car.
"Are you alright Mrs?" The woman asks.
Cynthia lets out a sort of gulp, trying to find the words to help her explain anything, anything about what is happening to her right now. But she can only seem to focus on one thought.
"I'm sorry…" She begins to say, "I just feel like I've been dreaming for so long, I guess I forgot where I was… why I'm here… Who I'm with…."
The woman looks at her and then smiles again.
"Then you must have had a good sleep on the way here from Manchester," The woman says gently, "And you would also remember my name Mrs is Lillian Mrs."
"Lillian!" Cynthia said, trying to sound convincing, "Lillian of course. Yes."
Lillian smiled at her as they finally make their way back to the car, she stops and Cynthia stops also.
"Looks like Herman is just about organised for our suitcases and luggage to be taken to our room," Lillian said.
"Herman?" Cynthia asked, still sounding confused and Lillian then gestured her to an older man in a well-dressed suit talking to someone.
"Yes, He's accompanying us to return Mr Airwein's belongings to his family, you remember, you're husband?"
Cynthia didn't remember, because she didn't know who Mr Airwien was, Herman, or Lillian, or any of the people who surrounded her. She knew no one, No one here was recognisable to her, no one sounded like people she knew. She was stuck in 1912 and everyone was acting like they knew her when she knew practically no one. Where's Mum and Dad? She thought, and she felt her eyes tear up again. Where have they gone?
She couldn't hold it back anymore and so her tears fell down her face. Lilian saw and her face fell.
"Oh Mrs I'm so sorry," She said earnestly, and she pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to her, "I know it must be hard for you that he's not here with you, I'm so sorry."
Cynthia takes the handkerchief and wipes her eyes a bit, feeling a bit more calmer than before. But just a bit.
Lillian, then suddenly looks down at Cynthia, more specifically at her camera. "When did you get that?"
Oh shit.
"Oh, I bought it before we left," Cynthia lied quickly, trying to smile like she meant it.
"Oh, very well."
Just then, the man that Lillian called Herman seemed to have finished talking to the Porter as he walks over towards them.
"Ah Mrs Cornell, I see that Ms Lillian managed to find where you wandered off to," He said, smiling briefly as he looked from Cynthia to Lillian. "It's best not to get lost while we're on the dock, wouldn't want to lose you."
He then smiled slightly.
"We're just about ready to board."
He then gestures towards Cynthia, who takes a moment to recognise what he wants her to do and starts walking, she looks up and sees one of the boarding bridges and heads towards it. As she walks, she passes through the crowds, who are still looking up at the ship. Cynthia keeps glancing up at it also, as she looks back at Herman and Lillian who are following behind.
Is this really happening? Am I really about to board the Titanic? She looked back once again to Lillian and Herman, who just smiled at her, gesturing her to keep walking. She turned her head back and started to fidget with her hands a bit, trying to relieve some of the nerves she was having.
They eventually made their way up to one of the boarding bridges, and as Cynthia walked, she could see ahead of her a few more passengers, dressed similarly like her also boarding. As they were. Cynthia began to realise that she might have a problem. She noticed that the passengers pulling out a piece of paper; their boarding pass.
Do I have that? She thought frantically. She turned back to Herman and Lillian who by this point were behind her. "M-my boarding pass?" She asked Herman, hoping that he would relive he has it.
"I believe you have it Mrs," He said, not noticing the panic on Cynthia's face.
"R-right," She said, trying to smile as the line moved up and Cynthia followed and quickly began to rummage through her handbag, hoping that whatever the boarding pass looked like would be there.
It was getting closer and closer to her turn as Cynthia eventually felt something that felt like paper, she pulled it out and low and behold it was what she was looking for. A piece of paper which read in italic lettering: WHITE STAR LINE BOARDING PASS: Permission granted to come about the RMS Titanic.
Oh thank god, Cynthia thought, But how do I have it in my bag?
She didn't have time to answer her questions as it soon came to her turn. There was a steward standing inside the ship, just next to the archway who smiled at her as Cynthia slowly stepped onto the ship, handing him her boarding pass.
"Welcome to Titanic Mrs, may have your name please."
"Cyn-"
Cynthia quickly stopped, realising she was about to say, and then quickly started again, "Maybelle Cornell, along with my maid?"
"Right'to, Welcome aboard Mrs." And he gestured for her to keep going.
Cynthia moved away from the boarding bridge until she passed what she knew to be the First class Lounge. She started at the gorgeous interior and space. She couldn't believe she was somehow here, standing on the Titanic like it was nothing, it wasn't some replica or fune house made to look somewhat like it. It was the real thing.
Like seriously what is going on? Cynthia thought again. How am i here, why am I here? I was on the bus just before so how…
"Mrs Cornell!"
Cynthia snapped out of her thoughts and turned and saw Lillian coming towards her, along with Herman who was a bit behind.
"We're just about ready to head to our room."
"A-alright…" Cynthia said, and she and Lillian made their way away from the lounge down the corridors.
"The steward said our room is B- 48," Lillian as they walked.
"B- 48, B-48," Cynthia glanced over at the cabins numbers on the doors.
They went down a couple more corridors and passes many other passengers like them. Cynthia kept glancing up at them, seeing if she could see any that recognised from history, but so far she had seen very little she recognised.
Eventually, they finally found their cabin "B-48," and by then Herman had caught up to them. Cynthia turned the knob and opened the door and went inside, Herman and Lillian following behind.
The room was quite spacious, in the middle there was a small table with a rich blue tablecloth over it and four chairs seated at it, all of which had rich cushioning and detail carved into them. There was a large wooden fireplace, a couple of vanities and tables, as well as large windows that peered out to the outside of the ship.
It looks beautiful to Cynthia, who had only ever seen only black and white photos of the cabin rooms, never did she imagine they looked so beautiful in person. She started to move around the cabin, feeling the intricate detailing of the fireplace as Lillian moves to put down the suitcases she'd been holding just next to the door out of the way.
"The stewards should be here soon with the remaining luggage," Herman said, glancing over at the dining table, then at Cynthia, whose eyes were filled with wonder as she looked out the small windows. She could see the dock still from where she was, the people down there who were still waving and cheering up at the ship.
"Where would you like me to put the suitcases Mrs?" Lillian asked.
Cynthia turned and stopped looking at the windows, unsure of what to say.
"In.. the bedroom…"
"Alright."
Lillian then carried the suitcases, and went into one of the other rooms, Cynthia followed behind.
The bedroom was a little smaller than the sitting room, with a large double bed neatly made, along with a large wooden wardrobe and vanity with a large mirror.
Lillian begins to place the suitcases down on the bed and starts to pen them up putting the garments and dresses into the wardrobe. Cynthia watched for a few seconds before she crouched down beside her.
"Do you need any help?' Cynthia asked, reaching towards one of the dresses.
"No, it's perfectly fine Mrs," Lillian said and continued to put away clothes.
Cynthia sighed and stood back off, she reached up to her head and took off her hat, placing it gently on the vanity.
From the sitting room, she could hear Herman's voice and the door open. Cynthia went over to see what was going on. She steps out of the bedroom, holding open the door as stewards come in through the sitting room door, rolling in large suitcases into other rooms, and someplace fresh flowers in vases on the fireplace.
"Put it in the other bedroom," Herman orders one of the stewards who rolls one large suitcase into another room. Just as he is ordering them about, Cynthia sees that they've placed a silver bowl that has a bottle of champagne in it, along with it a couple of glasses.
Maybe it was some kind of relief, maybe it was because she was thirsty, but Cynthia quickly went over and began to pour herself a drink. Herman seemed to notice as he says, "I can pour it for you if you want Mrs." But by that point, Cynthia had already opened the bottle and began to pour herself a glass, and began to take a drink, not caring about how much she was taking.
"Don't drink too much of it," Herman said gently. But Cynthia didn't care, she hated the taste of it, but it was something, anything that could maybe help relieve her from what was going on right now.
Herman's words bring her back for a moment as she stops drinking, almost feeling like she's about to cry again, but she places the champagne bottle back onto the table.
"Is there anything else you would need from me?" Herman asks, as he does, he goes over and grabs one of the suitcases and heads towards the door
"W-where are you going?" Cynthia asks, sort of following behind.
"To my cabin, your late husband had paid for my cabin whilst he was booking this trip."
"O-oh…" That was all Cynthia could say. Herman seemed to notice the somewhat sad look on Cynthia's face, because he then said, smiling. "I'm only a few cabins down the hall, and I'll be sure to check on you and Mrs Lillain. If you ever need anything, I'll be sure to help you."
He then opened the door and left, Cynthia went out and watched from the doorway as he went down the corridor and then turned a corner. He was out of sight. Cynthia stared at it for a few more moments before heading back into her cabin. She was still holding onto her glass as her eyes fixated on one of the rooms as she walked over to it. She opened it and it was the bathroom.
Without really thinking she went in, closing the door behind her as she guzzled the last remains of her champing bottle. She felt a bit dizzy but it soon passed as she placed her glass on the sink. Cynthia just stands there, staring around at the bathroom, her eyes watery. She was finally alone, by herself just like she had been when she ran out of the cafe which had to have been at least an hour ago. And now she was here, in 1912 where everyone called her Maybelle, and believed she was Maybelle.
It started to hurt now, how alone she really was, she was happy she could feel what she was feeling, but the ache and confusion that was happening around her did nothing to give her the relief she had hoped for.
The tears came pouring down, and Cynthia didn't stop them. She felt herself crouch down onto the tile floor, crying her eyes out, she tried to make say something, anything but it just came out as a quiet cry, no one who could have heard her could make out what she was trying to say, but she didn't know what to say.
Why am I here? What am I doing here? Why is everyone treating me like is normal? Lie I'm Maybelle. I don't know these people. Why are they acting like they know me? This isn't real, This isn't real, This isn't real.
She pinched some of the skin on her arm in the hopes she would wake back up on the bus, this whole thing behind her. But she was still sitting in the bathroom on the Titanic in 1912, 96 years away from her family and her own time.
It wasn't a dream. It was very real.
She sat there for some time, not making any noise as she sobbed at her circumstances, at her plight, Perhaps some part of her hoped that if she kept wishing she would somehow be back home. But that never came, and soon she found herself fixated on her handbag.
Her handbag, she hadn't even realised she hadn't put it down anywhere. She opened it up, still tears in her eyes and saw some things she definitely recognised.
The photo album; She pulled it out, and she smiled briefly before the painful memories of her so-called friends came as she frowned again, throwing it onto the tile floor. Then came her photos, still coloured and showing the present day that she knew. She smiled again and gently placed them back inside. Then she pulled out her passport, she opened it a bit, peering inside to see her id and credentials, and she put that down with the photos. And then she saw it, and immediately a sudden sting of hope came to her.
Her phone.
Oh my gosh yes! She snatched the phone and stood up. I'll call mum, Yes I'll call her and she can help me, oh gosh, please.
She turned it on and immediately started to dial her mother's number in and it began to ring. It rung, it rung, and it rung. It was going to be fine, she was going to be fine.
"Sorry, but we are unable to send your call through."
Cynthia's heart dropped at the sound of the automated voice that came from the phone. Of course, she couldn't call her mum from 1912, that's not how phones work. She started to cry again into the phone, staring at the image of her mum smiling at her from her contact profile. I want to talk to you Mum she thought, and suddenly she found herself going into one of her recording apps, and pressing record. She didn't know why she felt the need to do so, but she wanted to say something, anything she could say to her mother.
"H-hey Mum" She started, her voice breaking as she spoke, "Hey listen, I don't know how to begin to explain what's been happening, but I'm somehow stuck in 1912 and I'm currently on the Titanic."
She started to choke a little but continued, "I don't get it myself I mean I was riding on the bus and I fell asleep and somehow I've ended up here…" And she continued to speak, she found herself calming a bit more. Saying the words out loud started to make things a little easier as she continued, "I'm on here in first class with a maid named Lillian and a gentleman named Herman."
As Cynthia kept recording her voice, she looked at the mirror inside the bathroom. "They keep calling me Mrs Cornell, which makes me believe that I'm somehow Maybelle. It's the only real explanation I've got right now sorry."
In the mirror, Cynthia could now properly see her appearance better, despite her hair being in a bun, she could still see the blonde highlights in her brown hair. "Maybe I'm possessing her, I'm not sure how this works," She said, examining herself, "But it's probably the best idea so far that I've got."
"My hair's still the same so there that" She observe and lets out a sigh, her eyes were still a bit watery as she wiped them with one of her arms.
"I'm not sure how I'm going to make it back to you and Dad in the present, but I know I need to get off the ship. If I remember correctly, the ship should get into Cherbourg at 6:30 pm tonight, so I'll try and get off there and figure out my plan from then."
She looks down at the phone, she was starting to feel a bit more sure of herself now. "I'll give you an update afterwards, love you mum" and then she stopped the recording. She watched as the recording was saved to her phone before turning it off, putting it back into the handbag. She looked over at the photo album, it filled her with anger for a moment before she stuffed it back in too.
She didn't feel as scared as did before as she pulled out Lillian's handkerchief and wiped away her tears, she looked in the mirror as she tidied herself up more until she was presentable again. She just had to wait until 6:30, and then she would be off the ship. She smiled at herself in the reflection, and then, taking the handbag with her, left the bathroom.
By now, all of the stewards were gone as Cynthia walked around the sitting room, taking a seat on one of the couches, not really sure of what to do as Lillian finally came out of what presumable would be Cynthia's bedroom, in her hands she carried two small suitcases.
"I've finished putting your clothes aways Mrs, is it alright if I start to unpack my belongings?"
"Yeah that's fine," Cynthia said casually, and Lillian took her suitcases and opened one of the other rooms, Cynthia peered over and could a small lashing room with a single bed. Now what? She thought, looking around for anything she could do. Before she could think of anything how every, she could feel a sort of rumbling from beneath her, it was a sort of humming sound that sort of scared her for a few seconds until she realises what it was.
The engines. They must be moving now.
Cynthia quickly went over to the windows and looked outside, sure enough, she could slowly see that they were moving out of the dock. She smiled, There must still be a lot of people who are probably waving. And then came an idea of what she could do.
She went back into her room and put her hat back on, then she hurried back into the sitting room towards the door.
"I'm going on the boat deck, I'll be back soon" She called to Lillian, 'Alright Mrs!" Lillian calls from her room as Cynthia closes the door and makes her way down the corridor.
There aren't many people as there were before as Cynthia went down a few more corridors and up a couple of stairs until finally she, was up on the boat deck. There along the railings and port side, she could see hundreds, if not thousands of passengers waving down below to the people on the pier, cheering and saying, "Goodbye, Goodbye."
Cynthia walks passed them until she finds a small gap where she can stand and watches the people from down below. She stared at them, in her head, she couldn't help but think about how this might be the last time many people even see the pier of Southhampton, how they some will never see their loved ones again.
The thought saddens Cynthia and she frowns, leaning forward slightly along the railing, her eyes looking over to everyone around her. All smiling, all happy. And Cynthia almost can't bear the idea of being sad anymore, so she starts to wave to the people, and she starts to smile as she yells, 'Goodbye, Goodbye, I'll miss you."
The ship continues to sail away from the port until they begin to make their way towards the ocean, towards the sea. Which it may never return to.
Once they're away from the pier, Cynthia decides to head back to her cabin, taking the same way she had come from. When she returned, she found Lillian in the sitting room,
"Oh Mrs, you're back," Lillian says as Cynthia, "How was the boat deck?"
"It was wonderful," Cynthia said, taking her hat off and placing it on one of the tables, "You should have seen us leave, it was great."
"Well, I was still unpacking…"
"Don't worry, You can watch us disembark when we leave Queenstown tomorrow."
Of course, Cynthia knew she wouldn't be there to see them leave.
Cynthia then begins to undo the cuff buttons on her jacket. Lillian notices and starts hurrying towards her. 'Oh Mrs I can do that-"
"No it's fine."
With the cuffs off, she began to undo the buttons in the front and took the jacket off, then she headed towards her bedroom, grabbed her hat as she did and placed the jacket on a chair and the hat on the dressing table.
"Would you like to get changed Mrs?' Lillian asked, coming into the room also.
'Changed into what?"
"Wel… your day wear, Mrs."
Then Cynthia remembered, she had remembered her grandmother had told her about some of the social norms of the time, that back in those days, that Cynthia was now in, women would wear multiple different outfits per day, sometimes even five. Clearly, this was one of those times.
"Oh right, yeah sure."
And so Lillian helped Cynthia out of the blue dress, she took Cynthia's camera off from her neck and gently placed it on the dressing table.. Cynthia was surprised to see herself not wearing her bra and underwear and was instead wearing a corset and viole drawers. Lillian then pulled out one of the dresses from the wardrobe; a green and black one and helped Cynthia into it. She then took out Cynthia's hair and tidied it back up again.
"Did you're hair always look like this?" Lillian asked as she brushed her hair.
"Oh yeah, I think I had it done a while ago," Cynthia lied.
She eventually finished up her hair, putting it up in a neat updo.
On the dressing table there was a small trinket box which she opened, inside were various pieces of jewellery. She puts some of it on, a silver necklace with blue gems along it, which Lillian helped to put on.
"What would you like me to do with the camera Mrs?" Lillian asked.
"I'll carry it," Cynthia says, putting the camera's straps around her neck again.
"Everything fine then?"
Cynthia looked at herself in the mirror, smiling. "Yeah, I think so."
Lillian then left the room, as she did she asked "Would you like me to make you a cup of tea Mrs?"
Once she had left, Cynthia pulled out the handbag from before and started to take its contents and put it into the top drawer of the dressing table. It's better to keep them where no one can find them she thought as she stood up. I guess I better find something to do.
"No thanks, I think I'll go for a little walk," Cynthia called out and she left her room and headed once again out the sitting room door.
"Is there anything you want done before you get back?" Lillian asked.
"No it's fine, just go have some fun."
And with that, Cynthia was out the door, and out to go explore.
She went down the corridors again, she was not entirely sure of where she wanted to go, but her first thought trails back to when she first got on board; The lounge. She makes her way back to the way that had entered, and sure enough, she found it again.
There were plenty of people already sitting at tables, most noticeably to Cynthia they are mostly women. Some of them are drinking tea, and some of them are chatting. Cynthia manages to spot a table with four seats around it with no one at them, so she starts to walk over there. As she's walking, she keeps noticing now that the other passengers are staring at her, some of them are even saying things to each other. Why are they looking at me? She thought, wondering to herself. And then she figures it out as soon as she sees one woman from another table get up and leave. The way she walked, how she held herself high and tall, she wasn't crouched back or mopping around.
My walk? Cynthia thought, Surely they don't care that much about how I'm walking? But they were looking at her for a reason, weren't they? And so Cynthia stopped and straightened herself up a bit and made her way to the table and sat down. She then pulled her camera straps from around her neck and placed them down on the table.
Just then, a steward came up to her.
"Would you be requiring anything at the moment?"
Cynthia had to think quickly for a moment.
"A grey tea is fine."
"Alright, I'll bring it to you shortly."
And then the steward went away and Cynthia was left alone at her table.
As Cynthia found herself waiting for her tea to arrive, she looked around at the other tables nearby. Most of them were women, some close to her age, others old enough to be her mother, all of which were chatting with themselves as they drank tea and cakes. Her eyes then turn to one table that just seemed to have been seated. Three girls, close to Cynthia's age were talking to their waiter. One of them, a tall girl with blonde hair seemed to notice Cynthia starting at them and immediately says something to the other two, a brunette and a noirette. The trio keeps talking to themselves, eying Cynthia in the process as the waiter walks away presumably with their orders and Cynthia couldn't help but feel on edge.
Is there something wrong with how I'm dressed? Cynthia began to think, as she looked down at herself.
Before she could think of another reason, Cynthia saw the three girls get up from their seats and graciously they started to move.
Not out the lounge; towards Cynthia's table.
Oh god, no, why are they coming over here? What have I done? Cynthia began to panic internally as her eyes looked around, hoping that maybe something will stop whatever confrontation was about to happen. But nothing did.
Ok ok, it's fine, maybe they won't ask me something, yeah, maybe they need directions up to the deck or whatever, but they don't know me, and I haven't done anything wrong, at least in 21st-century terms. Yeah, It'll be fine.
And so Cynthia took a deep breath in as the girls made their way and stood in front of her table.
"Good afternoon," The brunette says to Cynthia.
Cynthia blinked for a moment.
"Umm, Good afternoon?" Cynthia then glanced out over at the windows. "It's been a nice day for sailing hasn't it."
"Yes, of course, it is. We were just chatting and noticed you sitting by yourself, do you have no one else travelling with you?"
"Oh, No, I'm-I'm travelling alone."
"Ah, such a shame."
The brunette then took her hand out and Cynthia reached also to shake it.
"I'm Pearl Birdwell."
The other two then introduce themselves, also shaking Cynthia's hand.
"I'm Marie Eakin," The Brunette says.
"Naomi Finney. A pleasure to meet you."
"Cynthia Thorntell."
Then Cynthia realises what she says.
"I mean eh, Maybelle Cornell" Cynthia says quickly, then she lets out a nervous laugh as the other three look at her confused.
"Oh sorry I forgot it was a thing me and my husband used to do. We had our own secondary names and our real ones."
Pearl, Naoimi and Marie looked at Cynthia for a couple of seconds, ad then they laughed.
"Ahahaha, that's an interesting sort of game you have with your husband, will have to ask mine about it," Rachel said smiling. Cynthia couldn't really tell if they had genuinely thought of her excuse as funny or if this was some way rich people mocked others. For some reason, their laughs reminded her of Rachel, Bethan and Natalie. The image of the three of them laughing in the cafe came into Cynthia's mind, and she almost felt like frowning at them.
"Well then, if you aren't too bothered, would it be alright if we sat here with you?"
"Umm, sure," Cynthia said, still a bit suspicious as the three girls took the remaining seat at the table, straightening their dresses a bit as they did.
"So then, where is your husband at the moment?" Pearl asked.
'Oh no, he's not actually," Cynthia says, not sure how to put it, "Umm, he's actually dead."
"Oh, that's so terrible," Pearl says, concern in her eyes and voice.
"Oh how dreadful," Naomi adds.
"So sorry for you're loss" Marie finishes, gently placing a hand on Cynthia's.
"Oh no, it's really fine," Cynthia says. She tries to think of something, anything she could say. She has no real idea about Maybelle's husband. Maybe about his death? There was something about his death that I remember, right? What was it?
It was 6 months ago.
The thought immediately popped into Cynthia's mind. It echoed against the million thoughts she was thinking of what to say, and yet it stood out against the current. Like it wasn't her own.
"It's been 6 months since he's been gone," Cynthia says, looking at the others, all of them look at Cynthia with pity and sadness.
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Pearl apologised.
"It's fine, really it's fine."
How did I think about that date? Cynthia thought. I don't know anything about Maybelle's late husband, so how that came to my mind?
Cynthia looks up at the others, who seemed to be stuck on what to say next. Marie was the one who spoke up, glancing down at looking at Cynthia's camera.
"What is that?" She asks, curious.
"It's my camera," Cynthia says, her eyes lighting up as she picked it up and showed it to them.
"It's rather small isn't it?" Pearl said, "I've never seen a camera so small before."
'Yeah it's a really good camera, it can take photos instantly and prints them out in colour?"
"It can? I don't believe it."
"I can show you, here."
Cynthia then put the steps back around her neck again and put the camera up to her eye, pointing the camera lens at Pearl, Naiomi and Marie. They sort of moved in closer together and smiled a bit as Cynthia took the photo.
Immediately, the photo is printed through the picture slot, as it does Cynthia pulls it out gently and presents it to them. Pearl takes it and the others get closer and look at the blank image.
"Their's nothing here, it's a dupe."
"Just wait a minute, it takes a bit to show."
Pearl, Marie and Naomi stared and waited, and sure enough to their disbelief, the image of them standing there, smiling appeared in the photo.
Cynthia smiled at the picture and looked up at them, hoping to see their surprised faces.
"Oh, how remarkable," Pearl said flatly, examining the photo.
Cynthia blinked, baffled. How are they not impressed? She thought.
'Yeah, it's a bit small though," Marie said, in a similar tone to Pearl. "Though I don't think I've ever seen a camera print coloured images. Where did you get it?"
"My father got it for me," Cynthia said, which wasn't a lie, her dad had gotten it for her a couple of years ago.
"Yeah, he's the one who got me into photography in the first place, he'd always take photos of me and my family when we're on holidays. It's sort of a big thing with his side of the family."
Pearl and the others nodded with some interest, but not as much as Cynthia thought they would.
Cynthia began to realise they didn't really have much interest in her camera anymore, so she changed the conversation.
"So why are you cruising on the Titanic?" Cynthia asked, putting the camera back down.
"I'm here with my husband," Pearl said. "He's going to give a business proposition to one of the banks."
"Yes, well I'm here with my husband and my in-laws," Marie explained, "We all came up to France for my sister-in-law's wedding so we're heading back to the States."
"My brothers and sisters are travelling with me," Naomi finished last, "We've been travelling around Europe for the last couple of years, so we're heading back home to meet with our parents. What about you Cynthia, why are you heading to America?"
Cynthia had to think for a moment, thinking back to what Lillian and Herman had said earlier, as well as the small amount she knew from her own family history.
"I'm meeting up with my family in New York," Cynthia explained, trying to sell she knew what she was saying, "I'll also be meeting with my late husband's family to ensure that the last of his belongings are returned to him."
The girls give Cynthia a sympathetic look.
"That's very kind of you to do," Marie says, "You must be really close to your in-laws."
"May I ask who you're husband was?" Naomi asks, "We all promise that's its the last question we'll ask about him."
Cynthia tries to think back to when Lillian and Herman had mentioned him. They always had called him Mr Airwein. They hadn't mentioned what his first name was.
God, what was it again, I'm sure Grandma must have mentioned it somewhere in her stories, didn't she?
But she couldn't remember, she and her family knew nothing about that man and knew if she said the wrong name they would very much be on to her. They knew nothing of Maybelle's marriage to that man. What is his name? Come on, think, think, think.
Eugine Airwien.
The thought inserts itself into Cynthia's head, just like before, it doesn't feel like it's one of her thoughts. But she like before doesn't have time to think about it, and says it out loud.
"Eugine Airwien."
"Eugine, Eugine. I think my husband might have worked with him," Pearl said thoughtfully, "Yes, I think my husband mentioned working with him a few times."
"Again, so sorry for what happened," Naomi said genuinely, and the others followed also.
And once again, their conversation moved away from Cynthia's past which belonged to Maybelle, it moved to something much more mundane that Cynthia never really talked about; the weather. As they did, their tea finally came and they kept chatting more. The girls talked about their husbands, though keeping to their word they did not ask Cynthia anything about her "late husband." They talked about how their trips to Europe had been, how they found boarding any of the mishaps that had happened whilst they unpacked or how they got them into Southhampton.
Any time that Cynthia was asked about any of her experiences with those things, she found herself having to make up her answers, some of them managed to get a laugh out of them, and with it, the nervousness she had gotten from when they walked up to her had gone.
Once they had finished drinking their teas, Pearl asked, "Shall we go for a walk on the promenade deck?"
"Ok, that's fine," Cynthia said. And so, the four of them got up from their seats, Cynthia grabbed her camera and they all headed off out of the lounge.
They make their way towards the elevators which they all get into and go up into A- deck which they all get off at. They then make their way along the promenade, there are plenty of people, like them walking, some of them are sitting on the lounges, and others are looking over at the railing looking out to sea.
Cynthia finds herself glancing out at the ocean as the others continue to talk about their trips to Europe, and once again Cynthia finds herself having to lie about what she did.
It's while they're walking that Marie notes the time.
"We should be thinking about having luncheon soon, shouldn't we."
"Yes, I was starting to get hungry," Naomi says. She then turns to Cynthia, "Would you mind joining us for luncheon?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
And so, they went back down they way they came, back to the lounge where they ordered their luncheon, Cynthia ordered Roast ducking with potatoes from the menu. As they waited, they all kept chatting though by now Cynthia felt it a bit hard to keep up with what they were saying. They were now talking about some gossip, though Cynthia couldn't feel bothered to ask what it was about as their meals came in, and they started eating, somewhat chatting after a couple of bites.
Soon enough though they were finished.
"Oh, I think I'll be needing to return to my cabin, I'm in dire need of a nap," Pearl said once she finished.
"Yes," Marie agreed, "I have to meet up with mother-in-law, I believe she wanted to try out the squash court."
"Alright then," Cynthia said, "It was nice meeting you all."
"Yes, yes it was," Pearl said, and they all began to shake hands again, "Will you be joining us for dinner this evening?"
Cynthia felt her nerves come back again, should I tell her that I'm getting off tonight?
"I'll think about it…" Was all Cynthia could see.
"Alright, I'll see you then."
And so, all four of them parted ways, with Cynthia heading back towards her cabin. When she returns, she finds Lillian making herself a cup of tea.
'Ah Mrs you're back, how was lunch?"
Cynthia took her shoes off and lounged on one of the couches in the sitting room, relaxing into it.
"It was fine," Cynthia said, "I met a couple of passengers."
Lillian fiddles a bit as she pours a cup.
"Would you like a cup of tea Mrs?"
"No, I already had one earlier…" Cynthia then lies down on the couch, looking up at the white ceiling. Her mind goes blank for a minute, and then she speaks again, out of genuine curiosity.
"Lillian, what do you think of the ship?"
"Excuse me Mrs?"
"What do you think of it?"
"Well…" Lilian starts, and then she smiles excitedly. "I think its wonderful, its so brand new and magnificent. I can't believe that we get to be here, and to think when I go to bed tonight, I'll be one of the first to sleep under the sheets."
Cynthia chuckled a bit, remembering how she had been crying maybe a few hours at her predicament. And now.. She wasn't so sure how she felt about it now. Being in a time she was so fascinated by and interested in ever since she was a child. It was scary how alone she was at first, but now.. Now it didn't seem as much, not anymore.
Lillian noticed the thoughtful expression on Cynthia's face.
"I know how you and Mr Airwein were so excited for this trip," Lillian said sadly, "And I know how much it hurts that he isn't with you right now."
Cynthia blinked for a bit, she wasn't sad not really, and not at Augine, not at the husband she knows nothing about and wasn't even her husband. It was Maybelle's. She thought about Rachel, and Bethan and Natalie, their faces plaster in Cynthia's mind, but they seem so far away, and they make no noise, no sound, no expression.
"I'm not sad," Cynthia says simply. "If I'm being honest, I want to be happy on this trip. I'm sure he would have wanted the same for me. I should be able to enjoy my trip without being reminded that he isn't here, about what happened, about how he can't be here with me. He's not a part of who I am, he doesn't make a piece of my personality that has to keep being reminded wherever I go."
Lillian stares at Cynthia.
"Aplogies Mrs-"
"It's fine Lillian, you weren't wrong to assume," Cynthia said. She couldn't remember the last time Rachel or Betham or Natalie had asked about how she had been doing, how she was. It was now that Cynthia remembered the many times they had called her and asked her to come over and tell her their problems. But she couldn't remember one time they had done that for her. Not even once.
Who cares about those three anyway. I'm currently on the biggest ship in the world, 96 years away from them. And I can do whatever it is I want without them being weird about it.
This newfound joy is what makes Cynthia sit up and put her shoes back on. "I'm going to take some photos," Cynthia says as she walks right out the door, "I'll be back soon."
"Take care then, Mrs."
"Bye."
Cynthia was out again as she head back up to the promenade deck. Once there, she begins to take photos along the deck, some along the railing, showing the length of the ship, some of them are of the four funnels. All the while she couldn't help but smile when they finish developing, all of them in colour. To think that I'm now the first person to photograph the Titanic in colour, she thought, the idea of it made her feel proud.
She continues to move along the deck, taking pictures of the lounges and the ocean. As she does this, a few passengers come up to her, asking for her to take their photo. Cynthia finds it in her to say no to these people. It might not be a good idea to introduce colour photos so early, she thought, who knows what would happen.
She then imagines some kind of time guardian or one of those time-travelling spies she seen in movies coming around the corner to arrest her, "You're under arrest for illegal time travel she thinks in her head, laughing to herself as she looks at the photos.
She takes a couple of more photos until she finds herself a bit tired and takes a seat along one of the wooden lounges. Her eyes become fixated on the ocean in front of her, and the clear blue sky. She breathes in the fresh sea air, it's almost like she's back home, nearly though.
Just then though, she saw a small family pass her by, and Cynthia's eyes watch them walk past her.
She suddenly remembers where she is again, what ship she is on, and what will happen. That family might make it together she thought sadly. She then gets up from the lounge and walks herself down to the end of the promenade deck, where she leans her arms against the railing and looks down at the third-class promenade deck. Below she can see many groups. Some of them are family, some of them are friends and they are either chatting or playing card games.
Cynthia sighed. Can I really leave? Can I really get off at Cherbourg knowing what's going to happen in four days? And even if I do what will I do next? I don't even no if getting off is gonna help me get home.
Is that even the best choice right now?
Cynthia looked around her, she knew deep down that she still didn't have the answer, not at all. And so she knew then that she needed more time to think about what she could do, what she should do. And she turns around and heads back to her cabin.