"A Thousand Points of Light"
Author: carmen_085
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters from James Cameron's Titanic, not any real people. I do not own Titanic or any characters from the movie. I do own all original characters.
Summary: Fifth Officer Harold Lowe and Titanic's Nurse Clara Barnett lives become intertwined on the ship's maiden voyage when a young drifter is brutally beaten.
Chapter Five
She looked strange, like a juxtaposition of two worlds smashed into one another. It was dark now, and at least there was that, but still she couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was watching her. Rose didn't have anything plain in her entire wardrobe, every dress more ornate than the last- all of which requiring corsets, shirt waists and more. She could neither dress nor undress herself and always required Trudy's help which was quite ridiculous. Even down and totally free her hair was still striking and beautiful, clearly the product of superior breeding and wealth. It hadn't been terribly hard to find a plain dress. There was a store in third class that sold women's attire for anyone who might need it. Dresses in three colors; gray, burgundy, and dark green. She chose the dark green getting a thorough once over from the clerk as he took her money just the same.
Even as she walked back to her stateroom, garment tucked under her arm, she wondered if this was totally absurd. After Cal nearly strangling her, his outburst, and the not so subtle threats she'd cried herself to the point of exhaustion. But then as she laid in her bed, staring at the wall contemplating her fate she resolved to do something. It wasn't too late, not yet anyway. She was going to find him and tell him just how sorry she was. Probably the worst mistake he'd ever made was getting involved with her and she owed him something for it. Rose wasn't like the rest of them; she couldn't stand for using a person and then just throwing them away.
She wanted to be smart about it, though, and not cause anymore issues than she already had. There was also a certain thrill to this, changing her identity and moving about the ship completely unnoticed and uninhibited. While she was convinced that everyone was staring, in truth most barely turned a head. Probably some Irish immigrant, third class. After dinner when her mother had retired for the evening and Cal was sure to be drinking himself into oblivion, she slipped into the dress and out the door. Nothing but her undergarments and a chemise, she found she could actually breath freely, relax her stomach, and slump her shoulders. It was delightful.
Rose started in the third class general room, and then the dining saloon. She thought about asking someone if they knew where Jack Dawson might be but then thought better of it after all the mess she'd caused. If she started a fight in third class she couldn't imagine how that might go. Wandering the boat deck alone, nothing but the cold air in her ears her mind was finally clear of all the mindless chatter. Nothing but her own thoughts and regrets.
The stern was quiet and dark, nothing like the other night when she was about to fling herself off of it. Part of her had expected to maybe find him here, smoking a cigarette and thinking of her just the way she was thinking of him; a few licks from Cal but no worse for wear. Wasn't the case, though, however, she was quick to find that she wasn't alone. Two people were against the opposite rail, but they didn't seem to noticed her at all. The way their bodies leaned into each other, the light laughing, the passionate kissing. This was love. My God why did nobody understanding this ? Not control or commands to obey. Not lavish accommodations, jewelry, or gifts. Nothing…just this.
Harry's entire body tingled as their lips parted. Honestly he was slightly embarrassed. A man his age giddy as a school boy after kissing a pretty girl on the playground. She was more than just a pretty girl though, she was an amazing woman. And even more amazing than that, she seemed to like him just as much as he liked her.
"Your voice.." She trailed off as it took him a moment to remember that's what they'd last been talking about. Quirking his lips up in a smile he shook his head staring out at the sea.
"You might be the first person who has ever liked my voice." He laughed as she tightened her grip on his arm. "It's the Welsh accent. The vowels are drawn out so it comes out sort of sing-song." He met her eyes briefly. "I was told to lose it when I started with The White Star Line….too folksy."
Clara's face screwed up with confusion. There was so much about the British that she didn't understand Quite possibly the most pretentious people to ever walk the earth they seemed to have hang ups with damn near everything. She wondered if her flat American voice had their ears ringing. Probably. She was getting cold although she didn't want this moment to end. Resting her head against his shoulder she cuddled herself next to him even more. Yes being an American she was less inhibited than many other women of the time, but still she was no floozy and she didn't throw herself at men. She'd never really had a guy either- at least not in a relationship- a few casual things here and there but nothing really developed into much. Many men seemed to shun the idea of a working woman, thinking her to be crass.
Despite all that, here she was practically wrapped into the arms of a man she hardly knew. Something about him was so comfortable though and so very familiar. It was like their souls had known one another for a lifetime, the physical connection coming so quickly and so easily. Beneath their feet the ship vibrated as Clara let her eyes close for just a moment. She was relaxed, so relaxed that she could fall asleep standing right here.
Harry felt her shift her weight into him and he didn't complain. His body was practically glued to her and everywhere she touched he felt warm. If there as a way to spend his time off on the ship this was it. He would gladly forgo sleeping, eating, or anything else to spend every second he had with her. Christ almighty he was losing his mind. He'd only known this woman for a day and yet he felt so deeply connected to her it was uncanny. Looking up he gazed at the twinkling stars. Perhaps it had always been written and finally everything came together to bring it to life.
He noticed her eyes had closed and he wondered if she'd gotten any rest today. "Clara…Did you get any sleep today?" She hummed against his wool peacoat nodding her head slightly.
"An hour or so….I had patients." His lips pulled into a grim line. He knew better than anyone how little sleep one got while working on a ship. When he wasn't on watch he had always been dead in his bunk. It could certainly take a toll after a while and Clara, still new to shipboard life, had yet to find a balance.
"Come on…I'll walk you back to your cabin." She didn't protest and as they pulled away form the rail her hand found his and they threaded their fingers together. This time they were quiet, all talked out but not feeling awkward in the least. The comfort they shared was astonishing, in fact. Clara knew that she was going to spend every minute she could with this man. When they got to New York, well they would have to figure it out, until then she planned to enjoy the present.
Like so many of the crew, her cabin was on E Deck along Scotland Road. Nothing special, it was one iron bunk with a fluffy mattress and two thick wool blankets. For whatever reason it was quite chilly below decks and with no way to control the temperate this was really all she could do. She did have her own lavatory and ceramic sink which was considered a luxury. Showers were communal but Clara always found an open stall and plenty of hot water. She couldn't complain, it wasn't as comfortable as her apartment in the Bronx, but it wasn't bad. She didn't have much time to spend there, anyway, being in the infirmary at all hours of the day and night.
Harry stood in the doorway leaning against the frame. As she turned to say goodnight she realized that she still had his wool beanie on. Pulling the hat off, he raised a hand stopping her. "Keep it. It looks better on you anyway."
Clara's lips pulled into a smile as she leaned forward. It was unheard of for a woman to initiate any sort of affection. She wondered, briefly, if he would take it the wrong way. Then with her lips just inches from his he leaned in to her and erased all doubt with a soft kiss. She sighed against his lips not wanting this to end- ever.
"Will I see you tomorrow ?" It seemed like a stupid question but she didn't want to assume and then be disappointed.
Harry didn't hesitate to nod. "Of course. I'll find you after my first watch." She smiled nodding, pulling herself away from him reluctantly.
This was crazy, truly insane, that she'd only known this man for a day. But she couldn't deny how right it felt. How natural and absolutely compelling their nearly instantaneous connection was. She only hoped it would last once the ship docked and real life intervened. What Clara didn't know was that the ship would never dock and harsh reality was only two days away.
April 13, 1912
When Harry showed up on the bridge for the early watch at 0600, Moody eyed him suspiciously. Apparently he wasn't as sly as he thought the uncharacteristic smile on his face giving it straight away.
"What's gotten into you?" Jimmy sidled up next to him elbowing his ribs. Harry couldn't stop the smile from spreading even wider. He couldn't remember the last time he was this excited about…anything really. Moody stilled, not believing his eyes. Harry moved toward the chart room, his junior officer in tow clearly needing to find out why his mood had changed so drastically. "My God…." Harry looked at the charts pretending to ignore him. It wasn't until Moody grabbed ahold of his jacket, forcing him to turn that he actually met his prying eyes. "You've found a girl." Well Jesus either Jimmy was really good or Harry was extremely obvious. He shrugged, kind of enjoying the whole thing. "Please just tell me she isn't a passenger. You'll have a hell of a time keeping that from…" He looked over his shoulder for effect. "You know who."
Lightoller
For whatever reason he seemed to have it out for Harry. It was strictly against the rules to get involved with the passengers; the crew were a bit of another story. Not really against the rules but also not exactly condoned. It fell into a gray area that was usually overlooked. Officers were different, though, the entire ship was looking at them, watching how they behaved, and the White Star Line demanded professionalism at all times. No one liked to remind them of that more than Lightoller, pain in the ass that he was. Either way, he didn't plan to make Clara anyone's business; not even Jimmy. The kid was good natured and harmless, but he liked to talk. What was happening between he and Clara was too important to mess up, so for now he going to keep it close to the vest.
Looking at the younger officer he smiled shaking his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Moody's face scrunched up before he shook his head, "Bollocks you don't…"
"Mr. Moody, shouldn't you be off on your rounds ?" Lightoller appeared in the doorway, apparently having relieved Wilde for the morning watch. Harry turned examining the charts once again rolling his eyes in the process. While he was semi-relieved that Moody's incessant badgered would now come to an end, he was also thoroughly annoyed that his watch aways coincided with the Second Officer's. Before he'd met Clara he was ready to jump ship- literally- the moment they docked in New York. Finding another posting with a more bearable group of Officers. Now he wasn't so sure, suddenly ready to risk the misery of looking at Lightoller indefinitely just to be near her. That was, if she stayed with her own posting here and didn't abandon sea faring life after the White Star Line worked her to death.
"Yes Sir." Jimmy cast a look at him before ducking his head and leaving the bridge. Surely, the inquisition would continue at a later time. Harry was silent, feeling Lightoller's perusing glance on his back. Thankfully the senior officer left without a word retreating to the bridge and quizzing the quartermaster on the handling of the ship. After completing some of the more mundane navigational tasks, the dead reckoning, and review of the wireless transmissions; Harry would set off on his rounds while Lightoller handled the bridge. The infirmary would be his first stop, and he knew without a doubt that Clara would be there. Tending to her patients and treating anyone else who stopped by without complaint or hesitation.
It was a little past eight when Harry forced himself to take up position next to his senior officer along the railing. The sun was warm but the air was bitterly cold. Drawing his coat up a bit, he hoped they could stand here in cursory silence. Everything was running just as it should be and as far as he knew they had no reason to worry. "I heard about that drama two nights back, on the stern." His hands clasped behind his back he turned to meet Harry's gaze. "The first class girl trying to throw herself off the ship."
"Ahhh.." Harry nodded. Why in Christ's name was he bringing this up? "Yes. I was on watch." Lightoller nodded his head, he knew that already- of course he did.
"And then the steerage bloke who pulled her back gets beaten, left in a stairwell for dead." Nothing was secret on a ship, clearly. "I heard you helped patch him back up." Fucking stewards were great for passing gossip but shit for help when you needed them. Where the hell were they when it was time to lug that man's body back to the infirmary? No where to be found, naturally.
If he thought he was going to steer this toward Clara he was wrong. No matter what, Harry was going to protect her- and what they had. Fuck Lightoller. Casually he shrugged his shoulders shaking his head, "I know a few things, square rigged vessels aren't the safest." It was a redirection and dig all at once. Like so many other Officers here, Lightoller had come up "the easy way" being an apprentice and heading straight for steam ships as a lad. No one knew the hard way like Harry did, many times he thought he'd die on those ships never seeing home again.
The older man looked at him briefly before nodding his head, "I'm sure." His eyes wandering back out to the sea. "And the nurse? She wanted your help…"
The bastard
Harry chewed the inside of his cheek wondering if he should bother to dignify him with a response. He paused for a moment remembering if he got fired it would be that much harder to see Clara after the voyage was over. Exhaling he used a great deal of restraint to temper himself.
"The man was in bad shape. I did what I could to help her." Turning he stared at the side of Lightoller's face, the older man not turning to acknowledge his gaze. "She's very good though- excellent actually- and really she didn't need me at all."
A silence as Harry turned back toward the water, the two men standing side by side in awkward silence. After a moment Lightoller spoke, "Mr. Lowe I don't need to remind you that you're an officer on this ship and your attention is to be on that at all times." Harry nodded his head not missing an opportunity for a comeback.
"The Infirmary is one of my secondary duties, sir, so I believe I was carrying out my duties as a ship's officer." His stared wandered back toward the senior officer. "The duties you assigned me." Straightening his coat Harry nodded toward the bridge not about to stand here and take anymore of this shit. "Speaking of which, I need to be on my rounds." Lightoller turned to face him. "Your ship, Sir." An official acknowledgement that the navigational responsibilities were officially being handed over. Wisely, the second officer had no response as he simply nodded his head.
Before the sun was even up Clara was busy in the infirmary. Much to her delight, Jack had made a remarkable recovery and was now awake in his bunk. She gave him some pain medications, changed his dressing, and provided him with some hot lavender tea for relaxation. There was no such things as muscle relaxers so natural remedies were the next best thing. Rib fractures, as she told Jack, were tricky- they required multiple modalities to control the pain and prevent pneumonia. He smiled at her, saying he had no idea what she meant but that he knew he was in good hands. In a little while she would go to the kitchen and get him breakfast.
For the time being he was the only patient in the infirmary. However, that didn't mean he was the only patient she had to see. The man with the leg lac on G Deck needed a bandage change, another immigrant with particularly terrible sea sickness would need at least a set of vitals to make sure she wasn't too dehydrated, and a crew member with a broken wrist would need checked on as well. The seamen who'd grumbled as she sewed his finger back together would need his stitches checked, and then of course there were the rest.
The Rich.
They didn't come to infirmary and instead demanded that she go to them. Thankfully Dr. OLouglin catered to most of the first class passenger telling her to concern herself with the others. Clara didn't mind, in fact she was glad, rather dealing with the poor than the entitled. She would have to make a trip to B Deck this morning, though, for a woman who refused the doctor saying her condition was too 'delicate' for a male provider. Clara sighed, she could only imagine.
She was just about to leave for Jack's breakfast when a woman appeared in the door way. She wore a plain dark green dress- something one might see in third class or perhaps on the crew. Her hair and face, however, were strikingly beautiful and clearly the result of wealth. Clara squinted her eyes immediately detecting some sort of rouse and wondering what it was all about. She didn't need to wonder long, however, as Jack immediately perked up in the corner pushing himself up in bed with a wince.
"Rose ?" Her eyes landed on him and immediately she teared up. So this was 'the Rose', the one that Jack had been calling for while he was half conscious and bleeding to death. She immediately went to him kneeling at his bedside and letting out a gasp as she looked him over.
"Jack…I prayed it wasn't true." His lips drew into a thin line as he shook his head.
"It's nothing. I'll be fine." Clara's lips drew into a thin line. It wasn't nothing but it also wasn't her place to interrupt whatever this was. IF she had to guess she would assume this woman was from first class hiding or running away from something or someone. Whatever their business was as long as they kept trouble away from her infirmary that's all that mattered.
Clearing her throat she came to stand at the bottom of Jack's bed. He smiled shaking his head. "Oh Rose. This is Clara- the ship's nurse- she's been taking excellent care of me. I'll be on my feet in no time."
Clara blushed, he was a very nice man- boy really- and she hoped he wasn't caught up in something terrible. The woman turned to her smiling and nodding. "My pleasure, Clara. Is it alright if I sit here with Jack for a while ?" He looked at her rather hopeful.
"Of course ma'am." Clara gave a slight curtesy knowing she was in the presence of money and proceeded to leave for the kitchens.
Harry was just descending the stairs to the infirmary when he saw a familiar figure emerge through the door. Looking over both shoulders he saw they were alone. Grabbing her around the waist she let out a surprised gasp as he guided her around the back side of the stairs. Her face relaxing when she realized who it was, he gathered her against the wall and planted his lips to hers. Thankfully the gesture was neither too abrupt nor too bold, as he might have worried, and she returned the intimacy by increasing the pressure all on her own. Hands roaming to his hard chest she snaked her fingers inside his Officer's jacket and rested them against his warm dress shirt. Harry returned the gesture by threading his own fingers through her hair. They could easily get carried away like this, their bodies already pressed firmly against one another.
Stop
They were both on duty and it needed to end. Taking a deep breath he pulled way from her shaking his head. She nodded immediately understanding and they both straightening themselves up before emerging from their hiding place. Both of their hearts still racing, they did their best to put on an air of normality for any prying eyes.
"Are you off on your rounds Officer Lowe ?" She smirked.
Dipping his head, Harry let out a bit of a laugh. "Why yes I am. Looking over her shoulder into the infirmary saw Jack sitting up in bed and a beautiful red head next to him." His brow wrinkled, who the hell was that ? "Everything in order here ?"
Clara nodded following his gaze. "Yes. He's doing much better. That's Rose apparently…you know Rose." Oh how could he forget, it was just about the only thing the man had said for the better part of that first night.
"She doesn't look like an immigrant to me…" It was idle observation that made the hairs stand up in his neck. Something was amiss here.
"No. I thought the same. " They were quiet. Lightly he placed a hand on her back.
"Be careful, alright ? I'll see you later." She smiled at him wondering why he was warning her to keep an eye out but assured him she would do it all the same.
"I will." They parted with Harry continuing on to the mail room and she going up the stairs to the kitchen, each seeing to their respective duties, each counting the seconds to when they would see one another again.
Clara sat in the corner of the crew dining area; similar to third class it was basically an upscale cafeteria. Dark wooden tables with upholstered chairs it was more comfortable than the cafeteria back at 's so she wasn't complaining. They were served hearty foods like pot roast and vegetables, potatoes, and biscuits. Normally she took her meals in the infirmary reviewing charts and making lists of things that still needed done. Tonight, however, she sat in the dining room her eyes wandering to the door every few seconds. He said he would meet her here for dinner, after his dog watch from 4-6. He was back on watch at eight so there wouldn't be much time for them to spend together. She didn't want to seem desperate, and knew that he had many more things to do besides see her, but still she couldn't help but be a little disappointed. What they had was so new she found herself wanting to be with him all the time.
She needed to stop being such a fool. She still had her job to do and patients who needed tending. Clara was so busy chiding herself that she didn't even see him until he slid into the seat across from her. Immediately a smile spread across her face. She'd definitely noticed that when he wasn't on duty he opted to keep the fact that he was an officer a secret. Maybe it was for her benefit, surely there would be more than few prying eyes. Or maybe when he was off duty he just wanted to feel normal. Either way she'd decided that she liked the relaxed version of Harry much more. Black uniform pants and a navy blue sweater pulled over his usual white dress shirt, he'd not taken the time to completely dress down as he'd be back on watch in just a couple hours. Hat gone his hair was flatted on one side and mussed on the other. She had to resist the urge to reach out and fix it.
"So I found something out." Harry immediately got down to business eyeing her carefully before taking a mouthful of roast. Clara perked up unknowingly sliding her leg across the floor so that her brown boot was touching the side of his leg. He was just so warm everywhere she couldn't resist the urge to be near him. Feeling something akin to a head rush she shook the thoughts away refocusing on what he had to say. Harry looked around as if to make sure there were no prying ears before he leaned a little closer. "The woman with the red hair who is hanging around your patient, Dawson. Well that's the same woman who tried to throw herself off the back of the ship a couple nights ago."
Clara paused thinking that over and knowing that something hadn't made sense. "Alright, how does that relate to what happened to Jack ?"
Harry shook his head, "I'm still not sure but I read the report of the Seaman who dealt with the issue that night. It seems like he pulled her back, all the screaming though- and when they found the two of them they were half dressed." Clara's eyebrows went up in surprise. She wouldn't have figured Harry for a gossip but she was enjoying it all the same. "Her fiancé shows up, drunk and irate." Oh Jesus there was a fiancé; she wondered if Jack knew what he was doing. "Accuses him of putting his hands on her, she intervenes and says that it was all an accident and she was trying to see the propellers." Clara laughed at that. What a joke. Harry's own lips quirked up in a smile shaking his head.
"Alright so you think that the fiancé had something to do with it ?" It wasn't hard connecting the dots although Clara had a hard time believing that one of these toffs would get his hands dirty.
"That or he had someone else do it. A manservant, butler…I don't know." His eyes settled on her seriously. "I want you to be careful around them. Both Jack and the girl."
Clara's spine stiffened. "What do you mean ?"
"I mean that these people do what they want. You see what they did to Jack. They're above the rules, always. Whatever's going on between the two of them or whatever that girl is trying to pull I want you to stay away from it." Clara sat back in the chair staring at him strangely. So strangely that Harry began to regret the words that had just left his mouth.
"You do know that I can take care of myself." The woman that had thrown her coffee over the side of the ship and all but told him to piss off that night in Southampton was back. That fiery, take no shit attitude rearing up the moment he tried to tell her what to do. Still, Harry knew what he was talking about and he wasn't about to bend on something so important.
"You don't know these people like I do. Her fiancé is Caledon Hockley; he's rich, powerful, and he follows no one's rules but his own." Harry lowered his voice. "Had he killed Jack they would have thrown him overboard and paid the White Star Line to stay quiet about it." Clara softened slightly seeing that she truly didn't understand what these people were capable of.
"Well that's bullshit." She said it a bit too loudly drawing a few stares.
"Yes.." He whispered harshly. "It is bullshit. But I can't change it. The only thing I can do it make sure that you don't get mixed up in the middle of this. I know you've taken a liking to Jack, he seems like a good kid and he surely didn't deserve what happened." She opened her mouth to protest. "But that doesn't change that it did happen and can damn well happen again." He reached across the table taking her hand and softening his gaze.
"Well where is the Master of Arms in all this ?" Harry rolled his eyes letting out a laugh.
"I have a complaint in with the Chief Purser but I wound't expect it to go anywhere. From what I hear the two of them are in bed with each other." Clara stared in shock. Homosexuality was not unheard of at the time but it surely wasn't something someone talking about so casually. Realizing how she'd interpreted what he said, Harry burst out in honest laughter.
"No. Not actually in bed. Just you know up each other's arse." He wasn't making it any better and the two of them dissolved into a fit laughter that had half the dining room looking. Pulling himself together he squeezed her hand. "I care about you, Clara, and I don't want anything to happen to you…ever."
She blushed furiously looking away but returned his grasp all the same.
Harry rolled his shoulders as he gazed out into the black sea. They were approximately halfway out, squarely in the middle of the North Atlantic and steaming directly into an ice field. Lightoller had neglected to secure the binoculars before leaving Southhampton leaving the lookouts nothing but the naked eye. Harry was rightfully bitter about it, knowing that if it had been his blunder he would have never heard the end of it. It was brushed off though, saying that this time of year the ice was thinning and they should be just fine. The ship was unsinkable anyway. What a load of shit. Harry was grateful for his posting- even more so because it brought him to Clara- but that didn't mean he was happy with the way his senior officers were managing the voyage.
Since this morning the ice warnings had started coming in, and yet they'd not changed their speed nor heading. The Captain simply nodding and remaining silent on the topic. Lightoller himself also didn't seem concerned about it, but was instead preoccupied with the details of Harry's personal life. The ship didn't have enough life boats, not enough by half actually, and no one seemed to care; touting the ship as unsinkable. Harry knew better than that. Nothing was unsinkable.
It was all so flagrant, as if they were thumbing their nose at God daring him to prove them wrong. Tonight he was the senior officer on the bridge, the others at a dinner party in first class. Moody had left on his rounds an hour ago and should be back any minute now. Harry took the opportunity to decrease the speed by five knots earning him a wary look from the Quartermaster. He didn't care, it was mildly foggy and dark, he would take no chances when he ran the bridge. Experience told him that; not fancy education or prestigious postings.
He was actually thankful to be alone right now, at the railing staring out into the dark sea. Moody, while well meaning, was becoming a pain trying to suss out Harry's mystery girl. He'd not give it up however and simply told the younger man he was misguided at best, crazy at worst. The phone on the bridge rang and Harry heard Moody answer it. He must have just gotten back. A few exchanged words and then footsteps coming toward him.
"Aye…apparently there's a small fire down in the Coal Bunker. One of the firemen burned himself." It wasn't uncommon to have a fires in the coal, they'd need to be kept in check though, lest they weaken the hull.
"I'll check myself. You say a fireman is burned." Moody nodded. Harry remembered he could barely handle the sight of blood let alone a man whose skin was hanging off. Well, maybe he was being a bit dramatic. "How bad ?"
Moody blanched. "They say it's serious." Well it was for the best then that he was going, leaving the junior officer the task of running the Bridge.
"Aye…." Harry met his eyes making sure he understood the instructions. "Maintain speed and heading, Mr. Moody. We're running at 16 knots." The younger man noticeably jumped a bit. They hadn't been running 16 knots since they were steaming away from Ireland; the Captain and dumb fuck Ismay demanding every bit of speed the ship could provide. Harry nodded seriously confirming what he said.
Moody, while in no position to question anyway, took the order and assumed Harry's position at the rail. It was smart, he had to agree, an ice field liable to come out of the darkness with a moment's notice. Harry was going to get it, though, when someone found out about this.
When Clara got back to the Infirmary she was more than a little surprised to find Jack missing. His drawings were still on the bed so she assumed he'd be back but still he shouldn't have left in the first place. She ignored the situation the best that she could reminding herself that what this man did was none of her business. Now, if he returned complaining of pain or with busted stitches she intended to give him a stern talking to.
She busied herself changing the beds, taking stock of the medications, and making a list of things she would need to see to in the morning. A second class passenger stopped by with a twisted ankle that she wrapped, and a third class man arrived complaining of sea sickness for which she cut a piece of ginger and offered him some tea. A rather mundane evening she contemplated taking the opportunity to turn in early and catch up on her sleep. Harry would be on watch until midnight and then again at six am, so she doubted that she would see him again until tomorrow sometime.
Fate, however, had other ideas as a knock on the door snapped her from her thoughts. Harry stood there in his full duty uniform. Something had to be wrong. Resting a hand on her stomach she inhaled. "What is it?"
Taking his hat off he took a few steps toward her. "I'm headed down to the Coal Bunker, a fireman's been burnt badly." She wasted no time grabbing her bag and throwing all the necessary things into it to treat a burn. "Clara it's very dangerous and dirty down there. I'm not sure if you should come with…" A hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. She'd almost forgotten the attire she'd purchased in Southhampton for this task specifically.
"Wait here…I'll just be a moment." Harry was a bit dumbfounded but complied anyway, taking stock of the infirmary and the fact that Jack was missing. Just as he was readying some smart ass reply she appeared from behind the curtain.
His mouth dropped open and for one of the very few times in his life he was speechless. Instead of her usual long blue dress she wore a pair of brown slacks and a dark blue linen shirt. The shirt was tucked into her pants showing a leather belt that matched her worn brown leather boots. He didn't know the last time he'd seen a woman in pants, it was almost more breathtaking than the most ornate outfit being worn by the toffs upstairs. Her brown hair, which had been hanging long, was now pulled into a loose bun that sat atop her head. If possible she was even more beautiful like this than any other way.
Seeing his surprise, Clara blushed shrugging her shoulders. "I can't take care of the man if I can't get to him."
He inhaled sharply doing his best to regain what shred of composure he still possessed. "Right." And with that they were off below decks.
Clara had seriously underestimated the heat and filth she was about to encounter. The coal bunker was all the way in the peak of the bow with Boiler Room 1 just behind it. Thankfully, the other fireman had brought the injured man out of the coal and back into the Boiler Room. No less hot or dirty but at least not on fire. Harry followed the foreman into the bunker pausing only for a moment before disappearing into a cloud of smoke. A few of the other stokers had gathered around, curious that a female was in their midst much less a female that was dressed just like them.
Like always, she wasted no time setting herself to work guiding the man to a stool and cautiously unwrapping the soiled material from his arm. Piping hot steam had expelled itself when the poor fellow dug his shovel in, it was a second degree burn. She'd seen worse. Removing a flask from her bag, Clara found it rather liberating to squat down and work without yards of material in the way. Offering the man a sip of Brandy he took it gladly as she set about irrigating and cleaning his arm. He winced but mostly took it on the chin saying nothing.
By the time Harry had emerged from the bunker, sweating profusely and slightly blackened she'd patched the fireman up the best that she could. He'd need to come to the infirmary for a proper washout of the burn and to monitor for infection. She had some natural remedies she could try if he was willing but honestly nothing was guaranteed. Infection often meant certain death if the body wasn't strong enough to fight it off. The foreman and Harry exchanged a few words before he turned to her nodding his head toward the ladder that lead up and out of the boiler room. Yet another reason she was glad she had pants on.
Clara was first up the ladder with Harry right behind. Once they were on the deck above, Harry closed the door to the Boiler Room, Clara personally glad that she was out of the veritable hellfire below. Slick with sweat she swiped at her brow and they stepped out into the hallway where it was much cooler. She was about to ask Harry what the situation in the coal bunker was but he was too fast, pinning her to the wall, and kissing her. They were both on duty and this seemed dangerous, perhaps even a little crazy. Still it was all she could do to keep herself upright. Unlike the few kisses they'd shared until this point, this different- lustful, desperate. She returned the pressure he was applying taking the situation up a level pressing her body into his.
Harry groaned into the space between their lips. She was just wearing one layer of clothes and through it he felt everything. Unlike her Nurse's uniform which cinched her into a rather ordinary shape, the trousers and shirt showed everything; her curves, the muscles of her shoulders, and the shape of her breasts. They were both slick with sweat as he snapped his hips forward letting her feel his growing arousal.
Clara gasped as he nudged at her most sensitive, private part. She wasn't a virgin, having had sex once or twice before, with a few heavy make out sessions in between. Quite scandalous for a woman of her time, she saw no reason to wait for marriage when marriage might never come. If she learned anything from her upbringing it was that life was for living- right now. Pressing against him she felt his fingers tighten around her arms flexing and squeezing with barely restrained desire. It wasn't the time or the place but they couldn't stop, the thin physical barrier between them crumbling.
"MR. LOWE !" It was as if he'd been burned; leaping backwards, dropping his hands, and inhaling sharply. Clara gasped, using all the strength in her shaking legs to stand straight. Another Officer stood staring at them both, a glint of disgust as he eyed Harry.
"Ah.. Mr. Lightoller. I was called for a fire down below and a burned man…" He stumbled and stuttered, his heart pounding out of his chest.
Lightoller scoffed as Clara wisely averted her eyes to the ground. "Were you putting her lips out as well ?Dousing them with your spit ?" She flushed obviously embarrassed.
Harry remained silent as he squared his jaw. "A man is burnt below. She went with me to treat his injury."
"I see, and all this was what ?" He gestured toward the two of them. Neither had a reply knowing that they'd gotten caught. "You will not see her again while you are on this ship." Harry opened his mouth to protest. "If you do, you'll be fired when we reach New York. I won't have one of my officers engaging in a dalliance while on duty." He raised his voice a few octaves. "THE SAFETY OF THIS SHIP DEPENDS ON YOU !" Regaining his composure the Second Officer adjusted his collar. "Mr. Boxhall will take over all infirmary duties. Now get back on the bridge." Harry gave a clipped nod.
"The fire is serious, sir. It may be weakening…" he couldn't finish.
"MR. LOWE…NOW, TO THE BRIDGE." Wisely he stepped away not wanting to make the worse for either of them.
Clara shrank under Lightoller's glare. "Miss I suggest you get back to where you belong before I turn you into the White Star Line for dereliction of duty."
She nodded averting her eyes. "Yes Sir." A sinking feeling building in her stomach. Perhaps this had all been too good to be true.
TBC….
I hope there is still interest in this ! Drop a line and let me know . Thanks
Also- I'm roughly basing Clara, at least appearance wise, off Violet Jessop.