5th April 1912

It had now been five days since Louis had been hired by the office of C.W & F.N Black as an ocean liner musician. Initially, he had barely been able to contain his excitement. The day he had been dreaming of for years was soon to arrive. The next part of his life was going to begin before the summer was out. But as the days had gone by without so much as a word in the mail, he had begun to wonder what the hold up was. Mr. Ritchie, the man who had interviewed and hired him, had assured him that the firm would be sending him a notice confirming his employment with the company and informing him of any further details on his first posting, which would be on one of the Cunard giants, Lusitania. It had now been almost a week since that day, and still the notice had not arrived. His excitement had by now given say to terrible anxiety. He tried not to let his thoughts dwell on the matter. There could be an innocent explanation for all this. Perhaps there had been some sort of mix-up with the postage and it would all be cleared up soon. Yet he could not completely keep those dark thoughts locked away. That perhaps he hadn't been hired after all. This business had never been one for the faint of heart, one needed to be ruthless to get ahead, and he could not turn his back for a moment, lest a competitor sneak up on him and rob him of his livelihood. There were plenty of world-class musicians seeking to ply their trade in the booming ocean liner industry. Musicians with far more experience and influence with the wealthy in first class than himself. It wasn't so inconceivable, therefore, to think that the firm might have second guessed its decision to select him. The thought made his stomach turn. Being a locally known musician was enough to sustain his basic needs, but it didn't feel like truly living, and he'd risked everything for a chance to return to the sea. He couldn't afford to fall short of that dream now.

In spite of his efforts to maintain his composure, Louis' spirits were sagging and his expectations of receiving that elusive letter fading. Earlier, he had gone out to collect the morning paper and check the mail, as always, and it was then, as he reached in as he had done so many times before to no great avail, that he first felt, then laid eyes on the envelope marked from the offices of C.W & F.N Black. It had taken all of his willpower to resist the temptation to rip it open straight away, but whether it was superstition, the honor of a gentleman, or just plain nerves, he had left it aside. Nevertheless, he could not help but allow all of the anxieties which had been building within him to continue piling up, and the desire to tear the envelope open only grew.

I'd better have breakfast first, then I'll look, he decided, and so that is what he did. He set the envelope on the old armchair, and set about making himself a quick meal of scrambled eggs and bacon, the staple of the working class. Still the envelope sat, its mere presence burning in his mind, and making it all the more difficult to go on about other things.

At last, when breakfast was done, Louis slumped into the chair and held the envelope in his hands. He had built up such anticipation in his heart of hearts that he now dreaded to open it, to face the possibility of rejection, but before he could change his mind, he pried it open and slid out the thin folded sheet of paper enclosed within. Carefully, he opened the paper.

Liverpool, England

From the offices of C.W & F.N Black

To Mr. Louis Ashbury

Dear Mr. Ashbury,

At the time of our last meeting, you were informed that your first voyage for us would be on the Lusitania, however, there seems to have been a most unusual occurrence recently. The pianist whom we had previously booked for the maiden voyage of a certain RMS Titanic, departing Southampton on 10th April, 1912, has regrettably been forced to withdraw for undisclosed reasons. We have conducted a review of the candidates as a replacement - as thorough a review as can be conducted in the limited time available, and having been impressed upon by your hiring agent, Mr. W. F. Ritchie, the extent of your abilities and credentials, we have deemed it appropriate to extend this offer to you. The position is yours if you want it, Mr. Ashbury, simply stop by the office tomorrow to receive a second-class ticket for Titanic. Advise us of your decision in a timely manner.

Regards,

The Offices of C.W & F.N Black

Louis held the letter with trembling hands. When the hiring agent had told him that they would be following up with further details, the last thing he'd expected was to receive the opportunity of a lifetime, a million lifetimes. His first assignment, on the grandest ship in the world, the unsinkable Titanic? What a stroke of luck! Sailing on her maiden voyage, playing piano in the elegant first class saloon, it was a dream come true in every sense. Of course, he would have to notify the firm immediately that he was going to accept the offer. Titanic set sail in less than a week. He'd have to pack whatever he was taking with him and get down to Southampton, from where the mighty ship would be departing. But all these thoughts were secondary in his mind at the moment, the only thing he could think about was that he was going to sail on the Titanic. The excitement was so intoxicating, he might have indulged in actual drink as well, had he not already decided to go back to the firm to collect his ticket. He wasn't about to let somebody take it from him now. Fate, he knew, had given him a gift that he would be a fool to delay in accepting.

Louis spent the rest of the afternoon sitting at the docks staring out into the open sea. Soon he would set out upon this very body of water, on his way to America with thousands of other passengers and crew. He'd be tickling the ivories with real world-class musicians, providing comfort and joy to passengers, leaving his small world behind and experiencing the grandeur reserved for only the fortunate few. For in just five days, he knew his life was going to change forever.

10th April 1912

Day of Titanic's departure

Louis had arrived in Southampton by train that morning. It was difficult not to tell everyone he met that he was sailing on the Titanic, the jewel of the White Star Line and pride of Britain's civilian fleet. And really, who could blame a young man for being boastful of such? He had every right to feel that the winds of fortune were at his back. Just days ago, he had nothing, he was just another musician, perhaps a talented one, reasonably famous in Liverpool, but still a nobody in the grand scheme of things. Now, he had a guaranteed commission, the promise of a handsome paycheck, and the opportunity to be part of a historic maiden voyage. Given all that, perhaps it could be said Louis had restrained himself admirably. In Liverpool, he was given a farewell party by his friends, who called him a lucky bastard and ribbed that he'd better not start thinking he was some kind of Duke or Prince now just because he was playing for royalty. He laughed as he assured them he would never change who he was. While he'd ridden the train to Southampton, he found himself sat next to a young boy, he couldn't have been more than twelve years old, and proceeded to leave the lad's jaw dropped when he told him just where he was going. The boy had said that he was going to be the Captain of the Titanic someday. Louis laughed as he said that he didn't doubt it, but there might be an even grander ship by then. No, the boy had insisted vehemently. No ship could ever surpass the Titanic, she was perfect.

As the train pulled into the station near the dock, the two of them both shared the same expression of awe as they glanced upon the appropriately named gargantuan ocean liner glimmering in the morning sunlight, and Louis couldn't help but think that maybe the boy was right, Titanic was perfect, never to be surpassed. As Louis and the boy parted ways, Louis reached into his pocket and pulled out the faded White Star Line patch, the one his father had worn for many years, and given to him before his final voyage. For twelve years, he had held on to it as a sort of good luck charm, but he was hardly in short supply of luck these days, and maybe it was time to finally let go of the past. He placed it in the boy's hands as the lad looked at him in disbelief.

"Hold on to that until you get your Captain's uniform."

"I will, sir," the boy beamed. "By God I will!"

Once he had left the train, Louis soon found himself caught up in the morning crush. The streets were brimming with a mixture of boarding passengers, families seeing their loved ones off, newsmen looking for a story and a good picture, and curious onlookers, which made moving more than a foot or two in any direction a real challenge. He pitied anyone trying to drive a car down to the dock, the ship might be gone by the time they got there. Speaking of which, he was only just realizing that he hadn't considered that boarding for second class would be cut off before the noon departure, that is, he didn't have all that much time to get on board. He thought he'd arrived early, but clearly, even he had underestimated just how celebrated Titanic's debut was going to be. Even so, he had not come this far to be denied. He elbowed and nudged his way through the throng of onlookers. He was just one man, a face amongst ten thousand or more, but the ticket he held confirmed that he was here for a reason, and that knowledge emboldened him further. Slowly, he had inched nearer to the ship, and then, as he neared the edge of the crowd, he spotted a familiar face.

"Mr. Hartley!" He called out.

"Ashbury?" The other man, a dapper gentleman in his early thirties, responded in what would normally have been slightly annoyed and quizzical tone, but had to come out as more of a forceful yell due to the noise of the crowd.

"It's a quarter to ten, you're late!" Wallace Hartley chided as Louis finally broke free of the crowd and rushed over to the Titanic's bandleader.

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry, sir! I didn't realize the crowds would be…well, like this."

Hartley shook his head. "You've got a lot to learn, lad. Anytime a ship leaves port, you can expect families and friends, but when it's the bloody Titanic on her maiden voyage…"

"Yes, sir," Louis said as he hung his head in shame. "I should have known better."

The Titanic's bandleader waved him off.

"Call me Wallace, I'm not your superior officer. On the stage, we follow my lead. Off the stage, we're equals."

"Yes, si- uh, Wallace."

"You've got a Scouser accent, lad, you're from Liverpool, are ya?" Another of the men asked, he had a similar accent.

"Yes sir, Merseyside."

The other man smiled and offered his hand. "John Fredrick Clarke, call me Fred. We're two of a kind, you and I."

Louis accepted Fred's handshake, relieved to be in the company of at least one fellow Liverpudlian.

"We need to get on board now," Wallace said. "Second class boarding ends at ten, so we've got less than a quarter hour before we get stranded without a paycheck, and the First Class will have to make idle conversation for the whole of the week."

"Heaven forbid, the poor souls," another band member answered, which got laughs from everyone, Louis included.

"Welcome to the greatest job in the world, lad," Fred said as he clapped him on the shoulder.

Despite starting out getting raked over the coals for his tardiness, he already felt welcomed.

If the Titanic had lived up to its name by its majestic appearance from the train station, the up close view was enough to make Louis feel that the name almost did her a disservice. By the time they had started to rush up the gangplank, day had practically turned to night thanks to the Titanic's massive shadow. The boarding officer greeted them and seemed to give Wallace some directions to reach their rooms, but Louis wasn't paying attention, his mind was completely occupied with the scale of the ship, and now he truly understood why the papers had called her a floating palace. Eventually, however, he had to enter as the line of people rushing to get on board was building to a crescendo behind him.

As they boarded the Titanic and followed Wallace to their rooms, the band members were just a handful amongst the hundreds of people already crowding the corridors and getting into their rooms. It was like a giant maze, Louis thought, as intricate and complicated as the streets of London, perhaps even more so. To think that each of these passengers was on their way to America, that for many of them, it was a chance at a new life. In some ways, although he would not be staying there, this was true of Louis as well. Today was the beginning of the next chapter of his life, and the future had never looked brighter. Wallace would continue to lead them past crowds of passengers until they reached the end of a corridor and found two rooms waiting for them.

"This is it, fellows. Now we've already made the arrangement beforehand. There are two bunks in each room, that means four to a room. Hume, Taylor, Woodward and myself will take the first, the rest of you, in the second. He offered a good natured smile.

"Let's make this a trip to remember, shall we?"

As Louis entered the room, he was struck by just how luxurious it was, especially for a second class cabin. Louis had only been inside one White Star Liner, the Majestic, when his father gave him a tour of the ship while it was docked in Liverpool overnight. The First Class cabins had looked tidy enough, but these had then beat by a mile, and how. From the oak paneled walls to the glossy linoleum floor, the simple, yet elegant furniture and the comfortable looking beds and sofa, it looked like something he would expect to pay at least a hundred quid or more for, and people were getting these rooms for twelve pounds? Then, there was lucky he, who had the privilege to enjoy such accommodations free of charge.

"Christ, they don't call this the greatest ship in the world for nothin', do they?" Fred clearly seemed to be having similar thoughts to Louis at the moment.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?"

"Lad, I've seen a lot of ships in my time, but this right here…Second Class used to really mean second class, if ye catch my meanin'. Once word about Titanic gets out, it's gonna be damn near impossible to get a booking on her."

"That, I can believe," Louis said as he sat down on one of the bunk beds. It still hadn't fully sunk in that he was here.

"Any musician in the world would give an arm and a leg to be here right now," he breathed.

"But they're not here, and we are," one of the other two men said in a thick accent, smiling at him.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Louis answered with a chuckle as he began to unpack.

There were a couple of hours yet until departure time, so once the group had got settled in and rested a while, Fred decided to introduce Louis to the others.

"Mr. Roger Bricoux, our cellist," he said, gesturing to a clean shaven man who looked about the same age as Louis. "He's French, so if he ever, uh, gets too high on his horse, just remind him who won the battle of Agincourt."

Fred nudged the younger man, who smiled sheepishly, implying this was not the first time he'd been teased like this.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Bricoux", Louis said as he shook the Frenchman's hand.

"Just call 'im Roger, or Rog, if you like. You're gonna be best mates by the time this voyage is over. You'll be playin' with him in the A La Carte, the Cafe, Second Class saloon for dinner service, and with him," he gestured towards the fourth man, who had lighter brown hair combed back and full facial features despite his thin physique.

"Georges Krins, on the violin. He'll be leadin' your trio. He's from Belgium, also known for their lovely French speakers. So just be aware, Louis, if these two are talkin' to each other in the mother tongue while you're around, they're probably talkin' about you."

"That's a very comforting thought, Fred," Louis said with a wry smile as he shook the equally embarrassed Mr. Krins' hand.

"Now, like I said, you three will be playin' together, as a trio. The rest of us are with Wallace. If the whole band is playin' together, that means we're goin' down, and we're bloody well finished, so let's hope an' pray it doesn't come to that."

Louis had given no thought to the possibility of a ship he sailed on going down until now.

His mind went back to those nights spent lying awake, the days gazing out on the gray ocean, wondering when his father was going to come home. Then, the day the officials from the White Star Line knocked on the door…

Fred patted him on the back.

"On that cheery note, what say you we go topside and bid old Southampton farewell?"

The others seemed to like that idea, as did Louis; fresh air sounded wonderful right about now, and soon, they were on their way. As the stepped outside, Louis was surprised to find that the crowds of passengers had hardly dissipated. Perhaps there was simply too much to do, too much to see. Who would want to stay in their cabin when there was a whole ship to explore? The four men weaved between the groups of passengers still standing outside their cabins, some making conversation, some perhaps still trying to make sense of the chaos.

"We've only one elevator for the lot of us, the First Class have got the others!" Fred said as they approached the technological marvel, where there was a massive line of passengers already waiting to go up to the boat deck to say their own goodbyes. Louis checked his watch, it was 11:50 a.m, they didn't have much time.

"Looks like it's the stairs for us, lads," Fred quipped.

As they continued to walk briskly down the hallway in search of a staircase up to the boat deck, they found yet more passengers still conversing in the hallway, and ducked through, but suddenly, there was an obstacle in Louis' path, and he wasn't quick enough to avoid crashing into her. The unfortunate woman tumbled backwards, while Louis felt a rush of embarrassment creep to his face. His bandmates hadn't seen the collision, and amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces, no matter how hard he looked, he realized that he'd lost them.

"Excuse you, sir. Have you no sense of decency?"

He was startled to hear the woman admonishing him so brazenly. She was American, he was quite certain by the accent, and Americans did have a reputation for being feisty.

"I apologize, miss, I really didn't mean to- here, let me help you up."

"A day late and a dollar short, but thank you," she huffed as she accepted his hand and rose to her feet, straightened her hat and brushed herself down. Louis got a good look at her for the first time; to say she was beautiful would have been a slight. Lush dark brown curls fell to her shoulders accentuating her soft brown eyes and gentle face, she wore not the outlandishly expensive clothing of the first class, but a simple, yet stylish blue dress. He could have stayed transfixed forever, but she was clearly in no mood to dawdle.

"Have I got something on my face, sir? Honestly, if this is how the crew is going to treat us-"

Louis looked down at his own dapper suit and tie, he supposed it could be easy to mistake him for a steward.

"Oh no, miss, I'm not a member of the crew. I'm- well, I'm actually here on account of the ship's orchestra."

The woman's expression seemed to soften for the first time.

"The orchestra? So you'll be playing for us?"

Louis remembered the information John had given him earlier.

"Yes, miss, we'll be playing for the First and Second Class passengers throughout the voyage. I'll be playing in the Second Class Saloon tonight, and every night of our crossing."

"Will you?" The woman seemed intrigued. "And what is your instrument of choice, Mr…"

"Ashbury. Louis Ashbury. I'm the pianist, miss."

"I see…I teach the piano, back home, I mean."

"It's a noble profession, miss. My mother was a teacher herself."

"Was she? And I suppose she taught you?"

"Yes, miss, and taught me well, if I may say."

The woman smiled, and Louis couldn't help but wonder, was there a hint of playfulness to that smile?

"I'll be the judge of that, Mr. Ashbury. Hopefully she taught you to play the piano better than she taught you manners. I'll be paying very close attention during dinner."

Louis felt a blush creep up to his cheeks. "Well, I'll do my best to make the evening enjoyable. And again, I do deeply apologize, I'm sure your roommates must be concerned-"

"Oh never mind, something was bound to go wrong on this voyage, it always does. And I'm glad I've gotten it out of the way now."

Louis looked at his watch, 11:55! There was no way he was going to reach the top of the deck by noon.

"I'd better get going, I don't want to take up any more of your time."

"Nor I yours, Mr. Ashbury. I'll see you tonight."

As he was about to start his mad dash for the nearest staircase, she called out to him again.

"Mr. Ashbury?"

He turned around, and noticed her lips curl up into a barely perceptible smile.

"Nora Bennett."

"It's been a pleasure, Miss Bennett."

"Likewise."

Miss Bennett entered her room, and Louis scrambled down the hallway, finally locating the staircase. He had less than a minute, by his watch. Then, the shriek of the ship's funnels told him he was too late. It was just as well, no one had come to see him off, and besides, Miss Bennett had proven a more than worthy distraction. Without meaning to, he realized he had made a mental note of her cabin number: D-72. Not that he was going to be visiting her or anything. Whilst her temper towards him may have cooled and their conversation had turned pleasant, this was but a temporary crossing of paths. She was a customer, one of tens of thousands he would perform for throughout his career if all went according to plan, and that was all.