‘Hello, sleepyhead,’ she greeted her. ‘I’ve ordered breakfast to be brought up to us. I was just going to come and wake you.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Flora murmured sleepily, knuckling the sleep from her eyes. ‘I lay awake for ages then when I did drop off I must have gone into a deep sleep.’
Connie shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. We have plenty of time.’ The words had barely left her lips when there was a tap on the door and a young, fresh-faced maid appeared with a trolley.
‘Full English and tea for two, miss?’ She smiled cheerily as she wheeled the trolley to a small table set in the window. ‘Would you like me to pour?’
‘No, thank you, I can do that,’ Flora assured her and once the maid had gone they began to lift the covers from the dishes. Flora had been sure, after the enormous dinner she’d consumed the evening before, that she wouldn’t be able to eat again for at least a week but suddenly she was hungry and did full justice to the meal. There was crispy bacon, fat juicy sausages, devilled kidneys, fried eggs, and mushrooms. There was also toast and a huge pot of tea, and by the time she’d finished she was sure that she was going to burst.
‘I’m afraid I’ve made rather a pig of myself again,’ she apologised but Connie waved her hand airily. She herself had merely nibbled at a slice of toast and even that had stuck in her throat.
‘That’s what it’s there for, but now if you’ve finished we ought to get dressed.’
An hour later they were ready to leave and Connie summoned a porter to go to their room and collect their luggage. In no time at all they were amid the thronging crowds on the dock as Connie rifled through their bags for their tickets. By then a boat train from Waterloo had arrived carrying passengers and they joined the queue to board the ship. The vast majority of these were people emigrating to the United States, lured by the White Star’s campaign promising a better life there. There was also a large number of crew who had been boarding the ship since six thirty that morning, although Flora noticed they used a separate gangplank. Eventually they reached the deck where each passenger was greeted by Captain Smith. Since deciding to sail on her, Connie had read every detail she could about the Titanic, so she knew already that he used to be the captain of the Olympic, the Titanic’s sister ship. It reassured her that he clearly knew how to manage such an enormous ship.
Connie and Flora were shown to their state rooms, which were so magnificent they took their breath away. They had wall-to-wall carpets and beautiful furniture and fittings. They even had their own private promenade deck and Flora ran about inspecting everything, as excited as a child.
‘I can’t believe we’re on a ship,’ she said, her eyes sparkling as she threw open the wardrobe doors. Their luggage had been sent on ahead and already it had been neatly unpacked and hung.
‘That must be the door leading to your room there,’ Connie said and sure enough when Flora raced away to check she found herself in another room almost as luxurious as Connie’s.
‘Oh, everything is just so beautiful,’ Flora crowed, throwing her arms out and dancing a little jig.
Connie smiled indulgently as she strolled out onto the deck to watch the activity on the dock. It was heaving with people now who had come specially to see the Titanic off on her maiden voyage. A band was playing somewhere and the air was buzzing with excitement. Connie and Flora set off, intent on exploring the ship but realised in a very short time that it was going to take a while. It was absolutely enormous and divided into three sections for first-, second- and third-class passengers. In the centre of their section was the most magnificent staircase that Flora had ever seen. She stared in awe at the glass dome that sat above it, then hurried to catch up with Connie who had continued on without her. The staircase ran from the top of the ship down seven decks to the bottom, and the girls decided to go all the way to the bottom and work their way up. They peeped into the Turkish baths and Flora was very taken with the open-air swimming pool. ‘Just imagine having a swimming pool aboard a boat!’ she gasped.
They walked back up and soon they found themselves in the dining saloon. The room itself was huge and decorated in the Louis XIV period – or so Connie said – but all Flora knew was that she could never have imagined such elegance and magnificence even existed. It was panelled from floor to ceiling in beautifully marked French walnut in a delicate light brown colour and all the mouldings and ornaments were richly carved and gilded. Large electric light brackets, fine-chased in brass and gilt and holding candle bulbs, were fixed along the entire length of the panelling and Flora couldn’t help but think of the gas mantles back in her mother’s tiny house in Pleasant Row. There were huge bay windows draped in fawn silk curtains with embroidered detail with richly embroidered pelmets and the floor was covered in a beautiful Axminster carpet that stretched from wall to wall. Small tables and chairs were laid out about the room and elegant crystal lamps with rose-coloured shades illuminated each one. A bandstand partly recessed and raised on a platform stood at one end of the room and on either side of it was a carved buffet table.
‘It’s really hard to remember that we’re on a ship, isn’t it?’ Flora mused as they walked back up to deck.
Throughout the rest of the morning passengers continued to come aboard until finally the gangplanks were hauled away. Then, promptly at twelve noon as Connie and Flora stood on their private deck once more, three loud blasts of the Titanic’s powerful whistles heralded her departure. A roar and a cheer went up from the people on the docks. Passengers were leaning over the ship’s rails waving wildly to the people they were leaving behind. Some were sobbing and Flora felt tears prick at the back of her own eyes as she thought yet again of Jamie and her family.
Slowly and smoothly the enormous ship began to pull away and very soon the people on the docks were merely dots in the distance. The first stop was to be Cherbourg in France, followed by Queenstown in southern Ireland. From there it would be full steam ahead across the wide-open waters of the Atlantic to New York.
Once their homeland had disappeared from view, they set off to explore further. The movement of the ship was so smooth that Flora remarked that it was hard to believe they weren’t on dry land.
There was so much to see that they barely knew where to start. They came across a large and spacious lounge decorated in the Georgian style where friends could meet for a drink before going in to dine – at Connie’s explanation, Flora rolled her eyes. At this rate, she’d know far more about furniture than she’d ever really wanted to – with elegant little settees and easy chairs upholstered tastefully in carmine-coloured silk that exactly complemented the carpet and the walls. Next they went to peep into the shops and were shocked to see that there was even a hairdresser. ‘Although I would much rather you do mine,’ Connie assured Flora.
It was late that afternoon when they returned to their cabin to find that Connie had received an invitation to dine at the captain’s table that evening. She knew that it was a great honour but nevertheless she politely declined explaining to the messenger that she was still in mourning for her father and wished to cause no offence.
‘I’ll be sure to relay your message, miss,’ the young steward replied and quietly slipped away.
Flora frowned. She was thoroughly enjoying being in such opulent surroundings and would have loved to dine with the captain, although of course she realised his invitation would not extend to maids and, at the end of the day, that was what she still was.
‘You should start to move on with your life again. You can’t stay in mourning forever,’ she gently pointed out.
Connie shrugged. ‘That’s easy for you to say, never having lost someone close who you love dearly,’ she responded.
Much to Flora’s disappointment, after their initial exploration, Connie had stated that she was going to keep to her suite, and not wanting to leave her on her own, Flora stayed with her. But the following day, Flora grew restless from being cooped up. She was pacing on their private deck and listening to the
hubbub around them, wishing she could see what was going on, when Connie said, ‘Why don’t you go and have a wander around? I’m going to curl up with my book.’ She had borrowed The Lost World written by Arthur Conan Doyle from the ship’s library and was quite looking forward to a little peace and quiet so that she could read it. Since boarding the ship Flora had been so excited that she had chattered almost non-stop.
‘Well … if you’re quite sure you don’t mind and you won’t need me,’ Flora replied hesitantly.
‘I’m quite sure!’ Connie dropped onto a chair and put her feet up on a stool as if to prove the point so Flora quickly went to find her bonnet and after promising not to be gone too long she set off. First, she went to peep through the window of the splendid first-class dining room, which she still considered was surely one of the most impressive rooms on the whole ship. She then went to watch the people playing squash for a while and took a stroll round the swimming pool. Next, she headed for the shops, swooning with envy as she saw some of the magnificent things for sale. The ship was clearly catering for the very wealthy for most of the things cost more than she could earn in a whole year. Still, it was nice to gaze through the windows. As she was drooling over a ruby ring in the jeweller’s shop window she became aware of someone standing close behind her, and thinking that it was Connie come to join her she swung about with a wide smile on her face, ‘I say, have you seen …’ She stopped and blushed furiously as she found herself face to face with a tall, good-looking young gentleman.
‘Good afternoon, miss. I’m so sorry if I startled you.’ He swept his smart bowler hat off and gave a little bow as Flora’s stomach did a little flip.
‘It’s quite all right … I just thought you were someone else.’ Her voice came out as a squeak and she blushed an even deeper shade of red.
‘Ah.’ His smile was infectious and she found herself smiling back at him. ‘Are you enjoying the trip?’ he asked genially and she nodded.
‘Oh yes. The ship is just …’ She spread her hands as she tried to think of words that could describe it. ‘Just beautiful,’ she said eventually. She was captivated by his wonderful American accent. It was like nothing she had ever heard before.
He glanced about the deck then before asking, ‘Are you travelling alone?’
She was so busy staring at him, taking in his thick dark hair and deep-blue eyes, that she almost forgot to answer. ‘Oh n-no,’ she stammered eventually. ‘I’m travelling with my mistress.’
‘I see.’ He raised his eyebrow a little. He had assumed that because she was in the first-class area of the ship that she was some rich young woman. But then, he asked himself, did it really matter if she was merely a maid? She was pretty in her own way and could certainly help to pass the time on board. ‘Tobias Johnson at your service, ma’am,’ he introduced himself with a gallant little bow.
‘F-Flora Butler,’ she muttered as he gravely shook her hand.
‘Would you like to take a turn about the decks, Flora?’
Her heart began to race and, afraid that she might make a fool of herself if she tried to answer, she merely nodded as he crooked his arm for her to thread hers through. She hesitated for a second. It seemed very forward to stroll about with a young man when they had only just met and a picture of Jamie flashed in front of her eyes. But Jamie had left her and not even tried to contact her, she thought with a burst of anger, so what could be the harm in it? she asked herself.
Seconds later they were walking along looking for all the world like a young couple in love. It was still only April and now that they were out on the open sea there was a cruel bite in the air but Flora hardly noticed it as she peeped at her companion from the corner of her eye. He was certainly very handsome, and wealthy too if the way he was dressed was anything to go by.
‘So, are you going to holiday in America?’ he asked after a time.
Flora shook her head. ‘No, Mr Johnson. My mistress is going to stay with her aunt in New York for three years.’
He squeezed her fingers and her heart did a little somersault as he told her, ‘You must call me Toby. All my friends do, although my parents will never shorten my name.’ He chuckled. ‘I’m travelling with them now. My father has a number of businesses in London that he needed to visit and seeing as I had nothing else on I decided I would come with him and my mother.’
‘Don’t you have a job?’ she asked innocently and he chuckled.
‘Goodness me, no. Why would I work? My father is very wealthy indeed. I have a monthly allowance and that, along with an inheritance from my late grandmother, ensures that I don’t need to. Of course, when anything happens to my father I’ll probably have to take over the businesses but until then I shall just concentrate on being young and enjoying myself.’
Flora secretly thought that this sounded very selfish, yet it didn’t put her off him in the least. Admittedly as she looked at her hand resting on his arm she did feel a little pang of guilt again as she thought of Jamie, but she quickly pushed him from her mind. It was he who had left her after all, so why shouldn’t she enjoy herself while she could?
Toby began to tell her of his home and the horses he owned and she hung on his every word. Every now and again she felt she ought to pinch herself just to make sure that this was really happening. Who would ever have thought that a wealthy, well-brought-up young gentleman would ever look at the likes of her? But he had and suddenly she wished that the journey could go on forever, but as it couldn’t, she intended to make the most of every single minute of it.
Chapter Eight
‘Flora … Flora! Whatever is the matter with you? It’s as if you’re in your own little world.’
‘Wh-what? Oh, sorry, Connie. I was miles away,’ Flora apologised. ‘What was it you said?’
‘I asked three times … where is my bed jacket?’ Connie frowned. ‘What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling seasick or something?’
‘Oh no, no, it’s nothing like that,’ Flora hastily assured her as she crossed to a chest of drawers and immediately found what Connie wanted. ‘It’s just … Well, if you must know, I’ve met someone. A really lovely young man, as it happens.’
Connie frowned again as she saw the dreamy look in Flora’s eyes. ‘Well, I hope you won’t forget what you’ve come for – to keep me company?’ she griped.
‘Of course I won’t!’ Flora was indignant now. ‘I just met him this afternoon and only then because you wanted some quiet time and sent me off out so you could read your book. Had you needed me I wouldn’t even have gone out, you know I wouldn’t.’
‘Sorry,’ Connie said, feeling guilty now. ‘And of course you need some time to yourself too. But do be careful. I mean … this man could be anybody. Is he from the steerage passengers?’
‘As it happens he and his parents have a suite of rooms like this in first class.’ Flora’s chin came up as she gazed at Connie as if daring her to dispute it.
‘Oh … I see.’ Connie gazed back at her solemnly. ‘Then just be careful all the same. We are two young women travelling on our own and you know what Mr Wainthrop said, trust no one.’
Flora pursed her lips and started to prepare the table ready for their meal. She desperately longed to go to the sumptuous dining room but Connie was still insisting that their meals were served in their room. Still, she thought, she’d taken to going to bed early since she’d lost her father, so it might be possible to slip out and see Toby later that evening. He had hinted that he might take a stroll along the promenade deck before retiring.
Just as she had hoped, Connie was settled in bed with her book by nine o’clock so Flora hurriedly slipped away to her own room and brushed her hair till it shone. She put her cape and bonnet on and tiptoed out into the cold night air. She could hear music coming from the direction of the dining room and was lured to the sound like a moth to a flame. Through the window she could see elegant women wearing stunning gowns in all the colours of the rainbow, seated next to gentlemen who dressed in formal bla
ck dinner suits that made them look like the pictures of penguins she had seen in books. Every woman seemed to be dripping in jewels as if they were trying to outdo each other and they flashed in the lights of the sparkling crystal chandeliers. Huge vases of exotic-looking flowers were dotted about the edges of the room and although she was outside she could imagine how beautiful they must smell. She was so taken with the sight that when Toby came up behind her and gently placed his hand on her arm she almost jumped out of her skin.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He grinned. ‘I thought it was you staring through the window. Why don’t you come in?’
He too was wearing a dark evening suit, complemented by a crisp white shirt and a black dicky bow, and he looked very suave and sophisticated.
‘Oh, I er … I’m not really dressed for it,’ she muttered, staring down at her plain day dress. It was one of Connie’s old ones and by far the best she had ever owned but she knew that she would stand out like a sore thumb if she were to walk into the dining room in it and felt deeply embarrassed.
‘For what it’s worth I think you look quite delightful,’ he told her smoothly, making hot colour burn in her cheeks. ‘But if you don’t feel comfortable coming inside why don’t we take advantage of the music and have a dance out here?’
‘Here!’ She stared around the deserted deck. It was far too cold for many people to want to venture outside and her breath was hanging in the air in front of her like fine lace. Even so when he placed his arm about her waist, heat flooded through her. The band were playing a waltz and she lowered her eyes as she told him, ‘I-I’m not really much good at dancing.’
‘Then I’ll teach you,’ he told her, raising her hand into his. Very gently he began to lead her and as she stared up into his handsome face she did her best to match her steps to his.
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