Spring, 1900
"Do you have to go again, Dad? You only just got back!"
The older man crouched down to his son's level. He had the face of a man who had weathered many storms, but it was a face that always seemed to light up with joy in his son's presence.
"I'm sorry, Louis, I want to stay, I really do, but the line is very busy this time of year, and I've got to make sure you two are taken care of."
"Oh I know that," the boy said with childish annoyance, "but mum and I get so worried every time you leave!"
The father put his hand on his son's shoulder.
"I'll be back before you know it, the Nordic is a very fast and safe ship, I promise you, nothin' is going to happen to me."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, James," a woman's voice said, the voice of Louis' mother and James' wife.
"Oh come on, love, I'm just tryin' to give the lad a reason to smile. It's true, besides, she's been rated very highly by the Board of Trade. There's no sense in scaring the boy."
"There's no sense in lying to him, either."
"For god's sake, Beryl, I'm here, ain't I?"
"For a week or two at a time, while Louis and I spend every waking hour wondering if you're alive or dead? You promised me you were going to find steady work. You promised me before we even got married-"
"How much more steady do you want? I get my pay from the line every month. And you know, it wouldn't hurt to have my family see me off on just one bloody voyage either!"
"Oh, here we go…"
"Yeah? I'm the only seaman in the entire god damn White Star Line whose family doesn't see him off at the dock. Louis wants to go, it's barely ten minutes' walk away, why won't you let him?"
"We've had this conversation before. I'm not going to have it now."
It was at this point that they both seemed to remember that Louis was still standing there watching them, confusion and fear in his eyes.
"Oh, look what you've done," Beryl admonished as she pulled Louis close to her, stroking his hair as he quietly wept.
"What I've done? Oh for Christ's sake…" He sighed as he took a moment to gather himself before finally speaking again. "Listen, I'm sorry, Louis. I didn't mean to make you cry, lad. I've got to go soon, but there's nothing out on that ocean that's going to stop me from coming back to you and your mother. Until then, you've got to take care of each other, alright? And here…"
He pressed something into Louis' hand, As the boy uncurled his fingers, he saw a White Star Line insignia patch.
"I've been promoted, I don't need that anymore, but I want you to hold on to it, as a reminder that I'm always with you."
Louis nodded as he wiped tears from his eyes. He knew that in spite of her harsh words towards his father, that his mother was fighting the urge to do the same. No matter what they had suffered as a family, they had done it together, and they would endure this too. They just had to.
Later that night, when he was supposed to have been in bed, Louis snuck down the hall and to the window, where he saw his father and mother talking outside. He was smartly clad in his sailor's uniform, and for once, they weren't arguing. She was clearly close to tears, while he was doing his best to comfort her. At last, she threw herself into his arms and her lips moved as if she had whispered something. "I love you", perhaps, or "Please come home". He held her for what felt like an eternity, but finally, they had to separate, and after a quick kiss, he was on his way, walking into the darkness, until he had become one with the night.
That was the last time Louis Ashbury ever saw his father alive.
March 30, 1912
Liverpool, England
The Offices of C.W & F.N. Black
"...All my life I've had two loves: music and the sea. Now I'd like to combine those loves, sir."
Louis subtly allowed himself to relax in his chair. He'd finished his pitch, now it was all in the hands of the hiring agent. He'd spent this fine Liverpool morning holed up in this firm, which was famous locally for providing work for men seeking to be musicians on ocean liners. It had been his dream since the days of his childhood, when he first called Liverpool home, when his father would take him sailing and his mother would teach him the piano. There'd been a time when they had both supported him in whatever he did, but that was before that awful night twelve years ago. The night his father left and never came home. That was just the beginning of the agony, however, for it wouldn't be until a week later than the official condolences arrived from the White Star Line. There'd been a terrible accident, James Ashbury would not be coming home.
The loss of his father had destroyed not only Louis' spirits, but his mother's as well. When they had first met, she was happy, carefree, but his father's seafaring life had taken its toll, and when he didn't come home, it was all over. Where once dreams had lived, they were gradually replaced by a cold pragmatism that he could not then comprehend. They had left the sea and his childhood home behind, and traded it for a life in London with a banker as his step-father. It was everything his mother wanted, the opposite of their old life. They had stability and security. Yet the sea still called to Louis, and he had never been one to stay down for long on his ambitions, and so when he was old enough, he moved out and left London for good against his mother's wishes, getting his own flat in the only place that had ever really felt like home: Liverpool. It hadn't been easy, but he had never lost his sensibility for music. His time in the music academy of Liverpool as a lad had been one of the greatest experiences of his life, and he now sought to rekindle it. By hard work alone, he was able to pay for readmittance, and built his reputation in Merseyside as a reputable musician. Now, with just enough pounds from playing around the concert halls and pubs to live decently on his own, and with credentials from the academy in hand, he had finally decided to try to make this long-held dream of his a reality.
When it came to serving as a musician on an ocean liner, there was a well-established path. It was common knowledge for any musicians seeking residencies on either the White Star or Cunard Line that the C.W & F.N Black firm was the only way for most musicians to get contracted for this purpose, and so Louis had prepared accordingly, ensuring that all his documents were in order and that he appeared presentable enough for an aspiring musician with a working man's paycheck. Experience was certainly not in his favor, for there would certainly be plenty of other hopeful applicants with more of it. All he could do now was hope for the best. At the moment, he was unsure of how to feel about his prospects.
"Well lad..." The agent picked up one of the documents Louis had brought in to help him get the job, "I'm not contesting your qualifications. Your tutors at the academy all say you excelled as a pianist." Now he began to rattle off his reference profile, which had been compiled by the academy's headmaster himself. "Shows competency in multiple genres of traditional and modern music, has a natural ear for melody and deft fingers. All well and good. you come from a good family, father served as a seaman...nothing untoward here. Have you any experience with the pieces you'd be expected to know?"
"Certainly, sir. I've played these pieces in concert halls, for the wealthy folk in London on occasion. I've also been practicing the repertoire of both the White Star and Cunard Lines, sir, and can play both, if I may say, to a great degree of comfort."
"Well you're certainly prepared...which is something I unfortunately can't say for every applicant who walks through that door."
Louis shifted uncomfortably in my chair as he tried to gain any insights into the mind of the older man sitting across from him. He would ultimately be the one to decide whether he was hired or not, after all. He seemed content enough with Louis' qualifications, yet there had been an air of reservation about him from the beginning.
"I do have some concerns. It isn't necessarily a reflection of you, lad, but it is, unfortunately, a growing issue with the young men of your time. They can be quite restless, always on the roam, not honoring their commitments when they find them to be discomforting in the slightest. This is rather thankless work, you'll get paid well, but you won't get standing ovations or lavished praise from the press. And First class passengers, whom you would be primarily performing for, are notoriously demanding, as you may well have guessed. A lad such as yourself could have a far more lucrative and personally satisfying career playing in the concert hall. It is simply something we must consider when hiring fellows like you. Can you assure us that you will remain faithful to your craft and your assignments, regardless of the circumstances?"
"Yes sir," he nodded quickly. "I promise you now, I will be a professional in every manner if you decide to take me on. As my tutors indicated, I can play most any style. Classical, waltz, ragtime, hymnal. You can look up and down Merseyside, but I don't believe you'll find a pianist who is as committed as I. All I need is a chance, respectfully, sir."
In truth, he had devoted himself to this dream for so long as to have staked his livelihood on it. Again, the lessons of decorum from his childhood had ingrained in him the necessity of remaining composed when under extreme pressure, yet it was difficult for him now to tamp down his passion with so much at stake. To go back now with a rejection would be to accept that the dream of following in his father's footsteps and getting some form of closure was well and truly dead.
"Yes, lad, I don't doubt that you can play them all well, I would hire you right now based upon these qualifications. It's simply a matter of dedication. A lot of fellows find out they simply aren't cut out for this line of work. I figure it's best to find that out beforehand. And I need you to understand that before we go any further."
"I do sir, I have a tremendous passion for music...I suppose I always have, it was born within me. And with respect to the concert hall, I can assure you there is nowhere else I'd rather be performing than out on the open sea."
The agent nodded and extended his hand, which Louis shook after a moment of hesitation. "Very well Mr. Ashbury, I'll simply ask you to sign this form, it is a hiring form, which I will submit to my superiors promptly. The arrangement is quite simple: we pay for your accommodations aboard whichever ship you sail while in the capacity of a musician contracted by this firm. Your ticket is Second class, no more, no less. Performance schedules and other important matters which the crew have seen fit to disclose to you will be provided to you through us. You must be on call at all times for new assignments. It's very good pay, more than enough to make a comfortable living on. And if you do particularly well and indulge in the passengers' requests, some in first class may even tip you..." He paused for effect. "...generously."
Having taken in all this information, Louis quickly read over the form. Most of it was in highly legalistic language, but he gathered enough to figure that it was simply restating more or less the same terms of which the agent had just informed him. Satisfied that everything was alright, he added my signature on the bottom and returned the form.
The agent nodded and gave a small smile. "Don't think of it as work, but as a grand adventure. Welcome to the business, Mr. Ashbury."
Louis felt a great flood of unadulterated relief flow through him, it was finished at last. He had completed the next step of my journey. "Thank you, I won't let you down, sir."
"I'm sure you won't, lad. Now let's see about your first assignment..." The agent flipped through a small booklet until he came to a page that appeared to satisfy him. "It looks like the first opening for a pianist is aboard the Lusitania, she's sailing for Cunard, as I'm sure you're well aware. Can you be ready by the time of her next voyage?"
"Yes sir, I can play Cunard's songbook, I'll be ready."
Louis tried to hide his slight disappointment with this turn of events. Playing on the Lusitania, one of the most prestigious ships in the world, was certainly nothing to sniff at. In fact, for his first assignment, it was a great honor. But secretly he had been hoping that there might be an opening on the newest giant of the seas, White Star's Titanic, who's maiden voyage was scheduled for about a week and a half from now. He had perhaps understated how much he'd been practicing White Star's songbook in particular. Truthfully, he had taken note of which tunes were the most requested, and had learned the most popular pieces inside and out, hoping to get a chance to sail on the new ship. He might yet get a chance one day, Titanic would have many more voyages to be sure, but there was nothing like a maiden voyage.
Louis rebuked myself inwardly for these thoughts. What right had he to complain, even for a moment in my own mind, about the current circumstances? He'd been hired, hadn't he? Obsessing over Titanic wasn't going to help him with my new assignment. So he chased the futile thought out of his head.
"Excellent," the agent said, unaware of Louis' bout of inner turmoil. "She puts out to sea in a few weeks. That should give you enough time to prepare for your departure. We will send you a letter with more details as soon as possible."
"Thank you sir, I greatly appreciate this opportunity."
"The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Ashbury. It's always a joy to meet a lad with a true passion for his craft."
As soon as he got back to his flat, Louis began writing a letter to his mother. It had been some time since they'd last communicated, and he hoped it wasn't too late to convince her that this was a good thing. If being a full time professional musician wouldn't change her mind, perhaps the pay would. It wasn't extravagant, but it was more than even his father had made. He knew she wasn't going to like the news. How would one expect a mother who has lost her husband to the sea to react when her only son says he is going to follow the same path? Nonetheless, it was a significant part of his life; it was his dream, his future. He could still recall those days as a young boy idolizing the heroic sailors who tamed the mighty Atlantic, and now he was on the cusp of becoming one of them. And as if that wasn't enough, he'd get to follow his twin passion of playing piano and bringing smiles to the faces of people from all over the world. It was all falling into place. He just wished more than anything that she could be proud of him.
Well, he thought, it wasn't Titanic, but it was a start. His career could only go up from here. Once he'd finished the letter, he sat at the piano his family had had since his childhood, which still sounded as lively as ever to his ears. The keys, old and worn with use, felt by now more like extensions of his own fingers. After a few voyages, he might have enough to buy a newer piano, but this one would always hold a special place in his heart. It was where everything started. And now, all these years later, it was here still for his latest venture. Drawing from memory, having thoroughly studied the sheet music, Louis started to play through the Cunard songbook. It was impossible to deny the elegance and beauty of these pieces, nor the pleasant image in his mind of performing them in the spacious First Class dining saloon of the Lusitania. Ah, but to play on the Titanic, the maiden voyage of the mightiest ship to ever sail the ocean, filled with the wealthiest people on earth, the ones who made the world go round, hanging on his every stroke of the keys. Playing in rooms that were as elegant as mansions and grand hotels all in one, living the dream of anyone who has ever been young and adventurous at heart. How lucky those souls were, he thought. He still thought of his father, Seaman James Ashbury, still remembered those final moments they had shared before he went off into the night and vanished forever. The loss had turned his mother against the cruel realm of Neptune, but the longing had only strengthened for Louis. He simply had to get out there; it was now the only way to feel close to him. He sighed as he glanced back at the letter addressed to his mother. If he sent it now, she might try to stop him from getting on the Lusitania. Perhaps it could wait another week or two.
It was now nearing noon. Louis decided to take a stroll around the neighborhood to clear his mind. From his flat, the sights, sounds and smells of the Atlantic ocean were ever present. If his mother had allowed it, it would've taken only a matter of minutes for them to get down to port and see his father off, but in the end, her fear had become a reality. As Louis walked, he would pass by his neighbors, and occasionally, someone he knew would wave to him, and he would wave back. It still didn't quite feel like real life, knowing that in a matter of days, his quiet existence was about to be turned upside down. But then again, times were changing. In his parents' day, there were the haves and the have nots. Now, there were increasingly further opportunities for people like him to move up in the world. Soon, Louis would be far away from here, riding state of the art passenger liners to and from the United States, the land of plenty. Maybe he might even get to visit New York and the other great American cities he'd heard about. At the moment, the future seemed absolutely wide open.
He stopped as he stood on the docks of Liverpool's famed port, gazing out upon the water. There was an empty space in front of him, where a ship like the many his father sailed on might have stood years ago, but now, there was nothing. It was too late for Louis to change his past. The tragedy had taken both of his parents in different ways. One lost at sea, the other lost to a broken heart. Louis was a mere 22 years old now, but he was effectively orphaned. Still, he thought as he stood and felt a sudden burst of resolve, he was not going to let the memories that haunted him keep him from the calling of his heart. It was time for Louis to finally, truly begin the grand adventure of Life.