Chapter 6
Tommy
Queenstown
April 11, 1912

"This way, this way! C'mon, get a move on! Titanic leaves in fifteen minutes!"

Tommy held his suitcase to his chest as he was thrown into a large crowd on the Queenstown pier. He had caught the early train from Belfast that morning in the hopes of beating the crowd, but it had been in vain. Even from the train station, Tommy could see Titanic looming on the horizon and could hear the excitement from the pier.

He had been waiting for this day for months, longing to see the grand ship once more when it had been taken away from Belfast just a few weeks prior. He could feel his heart pounding against the weight of his ticket in his breast pocket, checking for the thousandth time to make sure it was still there. He was bumped and shoved along, nearly having his shabby hat knocked off as he approached the loading dock for steerage. A third class ticket had taken nearly all of his savings, but the day he had purchased it he had written to his cousin in Boston letting him know he was coming to America.

He adjusted his second bag he had slung over his shoulder, rubbing at his neck where the rough burlap strap had dug into his skin. As he was jostled about, the large crowd came to a standstill near the loading dock doors. The man next to him grunted, crossing his large arms in front of his chest.

"What's all this about?" Tommy asked as men in uniform began inspecting those next to the rampway.

"A health inspection. Can you believe it?" the man said, spitting over his shoulder.

"Well, I suppose it is a transatlantic journey," Tommy said. "It's standard practice."

"Maybe for us," the man said, "But not for them!" He pointed over his shoulder at the ramp behind him. It was obvious that those were the loading docks for the elite first and second class passengers as the women he was boarding were covered head to toe in fine silks and furs while the suits the men wore looked as if it was the first time they had put them on. The man was right, as there was no health inspection, only well dressed crew members to welcome them aboard.

Steerage was poked and prodded as they were guided towards the ramp that led up to the loading dock. People far above them on Titanic's decks were waving and calling out to those below, making the scene even more chaotic. There was a young woman with dark brown hair and holding a small baby on a deck just a few feet above him, staring wide eyed at the scene below. The third class passengers must have been a sight, having men poke under their beards and inspect their hands, as well as every nationality you could imagine mingled together. There were so many languages being spoken around him that it was hard to think.

A rough hand grabbed Tommy's arm, tearing his gaze from the woman above. "Oi!" he cried, "What do you think—"

"Shut up and let's get on with it." A health inspector stood before Tommy eyeing him suspiciously. He removed Tommy's hat and began poking through his hair with a wooden stick.

"Any lice?" the health inspector asked as he haphazardly parted Tommy's locks this way and that.

Tommy pushed the man's hand away. "I ain't got lice. What, don't tell me the Americans are afraid of the Brits?"

"Aye, not the Brits," the health inspector sneered, looking into his eyes. "Only you Irish."

Tommy felt heat rush to his face, but did his best to remain calm. This is why he had never wanted to leave Ireland as a boy. The Irish were unwanted by all, including the king they supposedly belonged to. And the British seemed surprised by Ireland's desire for independence?

The man suddenly stopped parting Tommy's hair when he circled behind him. "What's this?" he asked, using the stick to point at the back of Tommy's neck.

"What's what?" Tommy said, finding himself growing angrier. "Let me pass, will ya? Yer holdin' up the damn line!"

The passengers around him mumbled in agreement, causing the health inspector to narrow his eyes. "Can't let you through with that rash," he said, poking the back of Tommy's neck once again. "Go to the White Star Line office and they'll get you on a different ship in ten days' time."

"Ten days?" Tommy's anger took over and he grabbed the health inspector's collar, his bags falling to his feet. "I can't wait that long! Anyone can see that's not a rash! It's from the burlap straps on my rucksack."

"Be careful, boy-o," someone said from behind them. "Keep this up and you won't be allowed on The White Star Line's ships at all."

The health inspector smirked. Tommy wanted nothing more than to wipe that goddamn smile from his face. "I'd heed their advice," he said coolly.

"Hemmin, is there a problem?"

They all turned to see a young woman standing at the bottom of the loading ramp. Her dark brown hair was pinned back tightly against her head, her dark eyes studying them all carefully. In her arms was the baby Tommy had seen above, fast asleep.

"And you are you, lassie?" the health inspector asked. It was apparent from the woman's clothes that she didn't belong in steerage.

"Just a concerned passenger," she answered, her Scottish accent thick. Her eyes flitted shyly to Tommy before she stepped off the ramp and stood before the health inspector, gently rocking the baby in her arms. "Can't you let these poor people onto the ship? You can tell they're all healthy."

"He's got a rash, this one does," the health inspector said, pointing to Tommy's neck. "We can't afford the likes of him to be infecting everyone else on board."

The woman's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, looking at Tommy's neck as well, before bursting into laughter. "That's not a rash! That's from his rucksack! Now, let the man through and stop holding up the Titanic from setting sail. The rest of us have been waiting for over an hour to get along with rest of our journey"

A murmur went up around them, before the woman turned on her heel and went back up the ramp. Tommy stared after her until the health inspector let out a frustrated grunt and shoved his bags back into his hands before pushing him up the loading ramp. He tried to follow the direction the woman went as a crewmember inspected his ticket, but when he finally stepped inside the great ship, she was lost in the large crowd.

The woman was soon forgotten as Tommy began to maneuver his way around the many hallways and staircases. He descended to G deck, ignoring the annoyed look of other passengers when he accidently brushed past them with his suitcase. Queenstown was the last stop on the British and Irish coast before Titanic made the long journey across the Atlantic. He couldn't help but smile as he felt the engines thrum to life beneath his feet. He was here. He had done it!

His room was at the very end of a long hallway on G deck, nearly impossible to see as it was tucked around the corner. When he entered, he was surprised to see it had only one set of bunks with someone's belongings already on the top bed. When he had purchased his ticket, he had been told the only room they had left was more expensive than the other steerage rooms. At the time, Tommy had just been grateful there were any tickets left. Now, even though it has cost him five pounds more than what he was willing to pay, he could see it would be money well spent.

It didn't take him long to unpack his few belongings before he felt himself itching for a smoke. He made his way back up to the upper decks, eager to get a last look at the Irish coast as the Titanic pulled away. He found himself mingling with hundreds of other passengers on the poop deck, struggling to find an open spot along the railing. Queenstown was already far in the distance and as he took a long drag of his cigarette, he couldn't help but feel for his pocket watch tucked in his shirt.

"Feeling sentimental?"

The harsh American accent cut through his thoughts. He nearly dropped his cigarette into the water below before turning to see who had spoken. Sitting out in the sun, away from the bustle of the other passengers, sat two young men on a bench. One had dark hair and dark eyes, a cap on his head and a boyish grin on his face. From his tanned complexion, Tommy could guess he was Italian. On the other side of him was another, barely a man, with untidy blonde hair and a sketchpad and charcoal stub in his hand. They were both smiling at him, clearly amused. Tommy paused for a moment before going over to join them. If he was going to make a solo voyage across the Atlantic, it would be better spent if he made some friends.

"Says the American so far from home," Tommy said to the blonde boy when he approached them.

The boy laughed, elbowing the dark-haired boy next to him. "Nah, not much waiting for me back home. He's been showing me Europe over the last year, but now it's my turn to show him America."

"Traveling Europe?" Tommy said, suddenly intrigued. "And now you're on the Titanic? Blimey… I wish I could afford to live like that."

The blonde boy laughed. "That's just it, we can't either. We fly by the seat of our pants and every night we pray to God that He's watching over us as we try to find a place to spend the night."

The three fell into a momentary silence before the blonde boy began drawing once more. Tommy watched with fascination as the boy's hands moved across the page, creating strange lines and shapes that he couldn't comprehend. Tommy's own hands were capable of fine work such as this, but not on paper. He had spent many months designing intricate carvings that if he had the opportunity to sneak into first class, he would see on The Grand Staircase.

The dark haired boy murmured something to the blonde in Italian, making them laugh. For a moment, Tommy wondered if he should leave, feeling like he was eavesdropping on their conversation. But the blonde returned to the drawing in his lap, falling silent again. He kept looking to his left, studying something in the distance as the charcoal stub in his hands began to make circular shapes on the page. As Tommy watched, two faces began to appear as well as two hands. To the trio's left stood a father with his young daughter standing at the railing, pointing out the many things they could see in the ocean. The father-daughter pair slowly came to life on the page, right down to the father's cap and the girl's dark brown curls. The Italian, who was clearly used to his partner's intense silence, turned to Tommy.

"This ship is nice, eh?" he said with a large smile on his face. Tommy couldn't help but smile as well, grateful to see he was being welcomed in.

"Yeah, it's an Irish ship," Tommy said proudly, sticking his cigarette back in his mouth.

"It's English, no?" the Italian said, glancing at the British flag waving fiercely in the wind by the stern.

Tommy smirked. "No, it was built in Ireland. Fifteen-thousand Irishmen built this ship! Solid as a rock, built with Irish hands."

Just as he said this, a steward passed by then with a group of strange looking dogs on leashes. Following was another young maid, an Airedale tugging fiercely on its own leash and nearly dragging the girl with him. There were jewels embedded in the dogs' collars and there was no doubt where they had come from.

"That's typical," Tommy said, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "First class dogs come down here to take a shit."

This caught the blonde's attention, as he looked at Tommy and laughed. "Ah, it lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things."

"Like we could forget," Tommy said, blowing a stream of smoke from his mouth. "I'm Tommy Ryan," he said, sticking out his hand.

The blonde shook it eagerly. "Jack Dawson," the blonde said. The Italian extended his hand as well. "Fabrizio," he said with his large smile.

Tommy once again looked at the sketchpad in Jack's lap. "Do you make any money with your drawings?" he asked. But as the words left his mouth, Jack appeared not to hear him. Instead, he was looking behind Tommy across the well deck. He turned to see him staring at the upper first class promenade decks, where a young woman was standing near the railing. She had dark red hair pinned back into a low knot on the nape of her neck, with a form fitting dress that was surely the envy of all the women in steerage. Tommy was never much of a reader as a lad, but she looked like a tragic figure from the war stories his brother told him as a child. She was staring off into the distance, before she glanced across the deck at the trio. Tommy looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring, but Jack was still fully entranced.

"Ah, forget it boy-o," Tommy said to Jack, who was still staring at the girl above. "You'd as like have angels fly out of your arse before getting next to the likes of her."

Jack continued to stare ahead, before Fabrizio waved his arms in front of him, unable to break his stare. A well-dressed man approached the girl, taking her by the arm and led her back inside. Jack seemed unfazed by the unrealistic expectations of it all and went back to finishing his sketch.

Tommy learned that Jack and Fabrizio were bunking just a few rooms down the hall from him and the three agreed to eat dinner together that evening. Although Fabrizio and Jack were intending to go west after docking in New York, Tommy was relieved to make friends on his trip to America. As bittersweet as it was to leave his homeland, Tommy was grateful for his good luck on finding a pair to pass the time with over the next week. He just prayed that when they docked in a few days' time, that his good luck would continue.


For any of my Breakwater fans... did you see the reference? :)

Unlike my previous Titanic FF, this one WILL have more interaction with Jack/Fabrizio/Rose since Tommy's character in the movie is built around their storylines. Although I am giving Tommy a different angle in this story compared to Breakwater!