Chapter 7
Jock
Somewhere in the Atlantic
April 11, 1912

Jock relished the feeling of quivering violin strings under his bow and the thrum of Titanic's engines beneath his feet. He had barely been in Dumfries for a week before his departure, but he had felt restless the entire time he had been home until this great ship had pulled out of the Southampton port. The band had played straight through the day yesterday, entertaining in Titanic's many dining saloons, lounges, and cafes, but tonight was their first night playing in the first class dining room at full capacity. Titanic had left Queenstown earlier that afternoon, and with all of her passengers on board, was now speeding across the Atlantic faster than he would've thought possible.

He was dressed in his tails, something the band only dressed in for their finest performances. His collar felt tight around his slightly tilted neck and his jacket felt too restraining as he played, but for once he didn't mind. Just a few feet away sat John Jacob Astor, an American who many said was the richest man alive, and beside him sat another rich American, Margaret Brown, who was returning home after spending the social season overseas. He smiled to himself. If only Mary and his father could see this!

Hartley seemed to be in the same elated mood as he played in perfect harmony with Jock. The Strauss waltz that had been an exhausting challenge in the hotel drawing room of Southampton had now come to them all effortlessly. Teddy Brailey's fingers floated across the Steinway's keys and even the bass John Clarke clutched to his chest as seemed to play more lightly than Jock's violin. It was as if they had all come to the same realization that this was a turning point in their careers. Once they docked in New York and were able to tell the world that they had been the band on Titanic's maiden voyage, the world would become their oyster. Jock smiled at the idea of him moving to Liverpool with Mary, perhaps becoming a violinist, or even concertmaster, in their symphonic orchestra. He knew full well with the baby on its way that Mary wouldn't want him away at sea so often.

Jock hardly noticed when the men at the first class tables left, withdrawing to smoke cigars and drink brandy in the first class smoking lounge while they left their women at the tables to mull over their dessert and wine. This was the orchestra's cue that they were done for the evening and they all nodded pleasantly to one another as they packed away their instruments.

"Coming for a drink?"

Woodward was shortening the end pin of his cello, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he smiled Jock's way.

"Not this time, lad," Jock said, swinging his violin case over his shoulder. "I promised my sister I would join her for dinner."

Woodward shrugged, picking up his cello case as well. "Right, I'll see you in the morning."

"Cheerio," Jock said, making Woodward shake his head in amusement. As the only Brit in the orchestra that wasn't English, Jock couldn't help but poke fun at the rest of them.

As soon as he was out of sight of the first class dining saloon, he ducked into a nearby crew stairwell. Many of the stewards who passed him gave him an annoyed look, as the ship's band weren't technically crew members, but neither were they truly passengers. He bowed his head ever so slightly at a passing officer who couldn't help but open his mouth in surprise at the young violinist so boldly using a crew only section of the ship. Jock winked at him before darting into the nearest hallway, laughing to himself.

"What's so funny?"

He turned to see Violet Jessop standing near one of the second class communal bathrooms, a large pile of towels in her arms.

"I'm just enjoying watching the crew members realize that they're not the only ones to enjoy special access across the ship," he said, coming to her and taking the pile of towels from her arms. "Where are you going with these?"

"To the washroom," she replied. "I can't believe they stuck me with this job in second class! I've been a stewardess for ten years. I was even on the bloody Olympic when it struck the Hawke and this is how The White Star Line thanks me?"

Jock couldn't help but chuckle as Violet held open a nearby door for him. "It's because they know you'd declare yourself captain of the ship if they didn't humble you a little."

She stuck up her nose at this, doing her best to pretend she wasn't amused at his comment. "I'm a first class stewardess for heaven's sake! Why are they sticking me down here with you lot?"

"Don't pretend you enjoy groveling to those first class passengers," Jock said, watching as she took the laundry from him and placed it in a nearby laundry chute. She turned back to him, her stewardess's cap slightly lopsided as she put her hands on her hips.

"The tips are certainly worth it," she said, pulling out a wad of bills from her apron pocket and waving it in his face.

"I can give you a much better tip than that," Jock said, smirking as he closed the door behind them.

Violet's demeanor changed, stumbling slightly before laughing and her cheeks flushing red. "Be off with you, naughty boy!" she said, playfully slapping his shoulder as she walked past him to open the door. They stepped out into the hallway, joking about their past voyages on the Olympic when Jock saw Nellie coming their way. He gave Violet a quick kiss on the cheek before going to his sister's side, offering her an arm.

"I was just coming to my room to put my violin away and come to dinner," he said, giving Nellie his most charming smile.

"Hmm," Nellie responded, pursing her lips together as she watched Violet disappear into a nearby stairwell. "Do you know her?"

Jock immediately blushed. "Yes, that's Violet Jessop. She was on the Olympic's maiden voyage with me. Every now and then we bump into each other on a large voyage like this one."

Nellie raised an eyebrow as Jock led them down another long hallway bustling with passengers. "Does Mary know about her?"

Jock couldn't help but curse under his breath. Not only was his older sister the very one who had introduced him to his fianceé, but she also knew him better than anyone else. It had been hard enough to keep Mary's pregnancy a secret from her.

"Mary doesn't need to know," Jock said at last. He felt Nellie's hand tighten in the crook of his arm, a near-hiss escaping her lips.

"Jock, you didn't…"

Jock could feel his guilt bubbling in his stomach. It had been over a year ago when Violet had snuck into his room on the eve of the Olympic's maiden voyage. There were no lingering feelings for Violet, only the memories of the week they had spent giggling under the sheets. There was a strict rule in the The White Star Line about employees not fraternizing with the passengers, but Jock wasn't technically a passenger even though he was contracted through a third party. A man was allowed to have some fun while he was away at sea, wasn't he? Besides, just as long as Nellie kept her mouth shut, no harm done. It wasn't like Violet was the only infidelity he'd ever had.

"Don't look at me like that," Jock said, stopping. Nellie let go of his arm and crossed her own, looking away. "You look just like Mam when you do that."

He could tell his words cut through her, as she lost her stiff posture for a moment, a shaky breath escaping her lips. But she quickly recovered, her dark eyes growing even darker as she took his arm once more.

"Come," she said. "Leana has Isla and Callen met a boy down the hall for a game of marbles on deck. While they're all occupied, let's eat."

Jock was famished and nearly dragged Nellie to the second class dining saloon. With performing concerts at nearly every mealtime, he had barely eaten since that morning. A heaping plate of meat, vegetables, and bread were placed in front of them when they sat down and they ate heartily, barely saying a word until their plates were clean.

"Ah, look at that," Nellie said, pointing to a group of musicians who were setting up at the far side of the dining saloon. Jock immediately recognized Georges Krins, Roger Bricoux, and John Clarke. Jock was satisfied he ranked above Krins in playing ability so he was able to play in first class for dinnertime. Krins, the third violinist aboard Titanic, and Bricoux, the other cellist, were the only two members of the orchestra not from Britain, being from Belgium and France respectively and therefore mostly kept to themselves. Speaking English for them was a struggle among the other band members, but Krins thankfully spoke French much to Bricoux's relief. Poor John Clarke was the only bassist and therefore had double the amount of playing responsibility than the rest of them. They struck up a series of popular tunes, juxtaposing greatly from the arrangement of classical and romantic music the band had played upstairs, which pleased many who were still in the dining saloon. Several people began to clap, noisily stomping their feet on the ground.

"Wouldn't you much rather perform down here?" Nellie asked, clapping as well. The three orchestra members finished their first piece and the dining saloon roared with appreciative applause. "I'm sure we're a much more attentive audience than the stiff-collars above."

Jock shrugged, thinking of his earlier conversation with Violet. "Perhaps, but the tips aren't as nice."

As the trio began playing a foxtrot, many in the room rose from their tables and began to dance. Those traveling in second class were a mixture of the wealthy who had decided to not splurge on the nearly unaffordable first class tickets and the upper middle class, who considered this journey a luxury beyond their wildest dreams. It was apparent many of them were well versed in art and music as they twirled and danced gracefully to the meter of the music, creating a never ending circle of dancers. Jock smiled brightly at Nellie, who smiled brightly back, until he held out his hand.

"Don't, Jock," she said, her smile disappearing. "Don't ask me to dance."

Jock couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Nellie, it's been five months. When are you going to start living again?"

Her dark eyes narrowed and she folded her hands in her lap, unable to hide her knuckles turning white from the tension. She had changed out of her dark purple day dress into the black evening gown she had worn ever since Callen Sr. had died. The dark, lifeless clothing made her fair complexion look even paler and sickly, her hair pulled back severely against her head, making her look ten years older than she really was. They sat in silence for a while, before Jock remembered he had never returned his violin to his room and it sat on a vacant dining seat next to them. Without saying a word, he took his violin and went over to the trio who had paused to switch out their sheet music.

"Georges, Roger, John," Jock said, giving them his famous lopsided grin. They smiled back, shaking heads and confessing their surprise at seeing him dining so late.

"Are you joining us?" Clarke asked, eyeing the violin in his hands.

"Not exactly," Jock said. "Why, Georges, would you mind if I borrowed your violin?"

"What are you on about?" Clarke said, lightly poking Jock's shoulder with his bow. "Yours is right there!"

"No, my sister plays as well, but I'm afraid I only brought this violin," Jock said, motioning to Nellie over his shoulder who was out of earshot. The three men glanced her way with interest, but it was clear that Krins was still hesitant. After a moment more, he at last relented and timidly handed over his instrument.

"You better give them a hell of a show," Clarke said, hiding a smile. "Otherwise, their disappointment will come out of your paycheck."

Jock smirked and took Krins's violin and eagerly waved Nellie over. He saw her hesitate, but was unable to resist her brother's boyish charm. She nodded shyly at the three men when she approached.

"Georges, Roger, John, this is my sister, Nellie Milroy." They all politely shook hands before Jock nearly shoved Krins's violin under her nose. "These three need a break," Jock said. "Let's play some tunes together and liven this place up a bit." He held the violin even closer to Nellie, who looked at it for a long moment.

"I haven't played in such a long time," she said at last.

Jock rolled his eyes once more at his sister. "Would you stop worrying so much? Besides, you're as fine of a player as any of these blokes. Let's show second class what real music sounds like."

A sparkle appeared in Nellie's eyes that hadn't been there for a very long time. She took the violin and bow and tucked it underneath her chin, blowing a stray piece of dark hair from her face.

"After you," she said, unable to fight a smile back any longer.

While Jock and Nellie's father had trained his children in classical music, it was Scottish music that his children were best at. While Kate and Jock were the two musicians their father prided themselves in, Nellie was also quite talented on both the piano and the violin, Grace had a beautiful singing voice, and Andy had taken quite well to the bagpipes. In the sorrowful years after their mother's death, the few times the children were left alone without their father or stepmother present, they gathered in their drawing room to play Scottish tunes well into the early hours of the morning, much to the neighbors' annoyance.

Jock's bow glided across the strings, performing a few measures by himself for a few moments before he heard Nellie's playing join in, perfectly in tune and perfectly rhythmic with his fast bowing. Those who had been dancing to the earlier trio's songs just a few moments before stared at them, unsure of how to respond. But a couple of women seated at a nearby table stood, giggling to themselves as they came to the center of the room. They struck a pose and Jock heard Nellie's playing change, abruptly switching tunes. Jock stopped to listen and smiled when he recognized the traditional Scottish reel. From the way the two women began to leap around the room, their arms above their heads in the traditional dance, many began to clap along. A few men pushed aside the tables, clearing more room, rolled up their sleeves, and began to step dance with them.

Krins, Bricoux, and Clarke watched with awe at the sibling duo. It must be true that Jock's father was a talented musician and had taught his children well. The pair continued to play as more and more dancers joined in, leaps and shouts joining in the cacophony. Bricoux and Clarke joined in, quickly learning the easy harmonies while Krins used a set of silverware on a tabletop as a makeshift drum. The five of them laughed and played while the dining saloon was transformed into a dance hall with the Scottish and Irish passengers leading the group with each new song they played. It wasn't until almost half an hour into their vigorous performance that Jock felt a tap on his shoulder.

"It looks like you've caused quite a ruckus in here."

The dining room erupted into applause as Jock and Nellie finally stopped their playing. Sweat was on his brown and dripping down his back and Nellie had to brush sweaty strands of hair from her forehead. Hartley was standing behind them, his arms crossed and wearing a serious expression, but from the way his eyes glimmered as he watched the siblings set down their instruments, he was impressed.

"Second class doesn't appear to be as prim and proper as The White Star Line would like you to think," Jock said. Nellie gave Krins his violin back, before excusing herself and saying goodnight. The five men watched her leave, her respect having been won among them from her playing. The crowd that had gathered during their performance dispersed, leaving only the kitchen staff and the group of musicians.

"Where did the girl come from?" Hartley asked, still looking after Nellie as she disappeared through the doorway.

"That's my sister," Jock said. "I told you all I come from a family of fine musicians!"

"Well, she certainly is," Hartley said, the other men nodding in agreement. "But she's not the one contracted to play. I'm only down here because Mr. Ismay made a complaint about the noise."

There was a group collection of rolling eyes. The managing director of The White Star Line had been impossible to miss among the many passengers aboard, always making his presence and position known to those around him.

"From now on, save the impromptu performances for steerage," Hartley said. "Remember, it's The White Star Line that pays for our playing, not the passengers."

Despite the scolding, the men departed from one another in good moods. Jock made his way down the large hallway the crew had nicknamed Scotland's Yard. He received more annoyed looks from crew members as he looked like a passenger in his tails, but he put on his most cheerful expression and chose to ignore them. It wasn't until he passed a series of doors near the main stairwell did he stop. These were the rooms many of the stewardesses were housed in on the voyage. Many of them were on duty and the rooms would be abandoned for hours. Perhaps he could find Violet and…

He shook the thoughts from his head. No. He was going to have a son. It wasn't fair to his child and it wasn't fair to Mary.

He stuck his thumbs in his pockets and began to whistle as he descended down the main stairwell. It sometimes seemed like this voyage might be his last grand adventure.


Please do let me know in the reviews what you think of this so far. I already have 62 (yes you read that right!) chapters written and am editing as I upload them.

Nellie WAS in fact Jock's older sister, but much of her backstory in this FF is dramatized.