Chapter Three- the boy who never drowned

Once aboard, there seemed to be a difference in reactions to the Titanic. Different levels of amazement. We were herded like sheep to begin with, all shuffling small steps, slowly getting nearer to the main deck where we would be dispersed depending on our tickets. I clung to mine like it was gold; because it was gold. A golden outline, and swirly caramel letters read ‘1^ST CLASS’. Those who had their first class tickets resting in their palms barely looked at the ship, just in pocket mirrors and at their husbands or wives. They were smiling, laughing, enjoying the day out. The people who had second class tickets squeezed their children’s arms in excitement, bubbling energy escaping from them in loud high pitched squeals. The people who had the third class tickets ignored the constant scowling and elbowing, for their eyes were firmly fixed on the Titanic. Studying every edge and crook, every rim and cavity, their faces engraved with a bewildered smile tinted with gratitude, for they should not be there; this was too big an event to be witnessed by the poor. That is what I heard people muttering, my Father included.

“They’ll weigh the ship down!” He bellowed. He had attracted some colleagues and friends, making crude jokes to divert questions about his mysterious wife that no one had seen. George was among them, stealing sad glances at my Mother, obviously knowing the secret buried under her make-up.  I scanned the crowd, suddenly feeling an empty presence of Victoria, she had gone. I kept a panicked silence, my eyes desperately searching for her waves of black hair that stuck out in crowds because other women always tied their hair up; it was modest. I could never do two things at once, I had to concentrate my entire being on doing one activity, which is why my mind followed my eyes and soon I was lost in the crowd, my body standing solemnly next to Father but my soul exploring the hundreds of people that littered the deck. I caught ends and middles of conversations, some expressing their amazement and faith in the Titanic and some mumbling about life boats and grumbling about the smell on board; the smell of the harbour. Victoria’s low, velvety tone was not among the voices I heard which were becoming fainter as my Father pulled me to walk with him. “Felix,” his deep delivery grabbed my soul by the ears and pulled be back into present reality. I looked up, studying is defined features. Cheek bones that created a hollowness to the structure, and concealed dimples that would transform his face from that of a troubled man to a warm, loyal friend of trustworthy authority whenever he chose to smile. He was the man that made me think smiling was not involuntary, but a tool used to convey pleasure that would result in others giving you what you want. Father always got what he wanted, as a lawyer his colleges would say to me the cases that he had won with ease. He had tricked them all with his tactical emotions, for I had never experienced much more than mild amusement because I had nothing to give him that he wanted. We walked like cattle, all ushered into various blue hallways that led to various rooms. Along the way we were escorted past two big golden doors that a staircase fell beyond, leading to the entertainment room. All I saw was a stage and a chandelier that sparkled silver light. It was labelled ‘FIRST CLASS ONLY’ and as always I felt a special privilege. Being a first class citizen it gave me power over adults who were older and supposedly wiser, granting me a unique award for my Father’s wealth. I sometimes took this award for granted and adopted judgment for the lowest class that I had seen others hold dear. But sometimes I would see a poor family, dressed in rags in street corners, and I would see the father talking in a hushed tone, and his family would listen intently like he was sharing the secret to the meaning of life. Maybe the secret to the meaning of life was trapped inside that man’s mind, but only a humble family to listen.

“Felix,” my Father put a heavy hand on my shoulder. “This is yours and Victoria’s room. This is mine and your Mother’s room. Do not get the two confused. Unpack your things and find your sister, I don’t know where the devil she’s got to.” A hint of concern peppered his voice but he was distracted by Mother’s smile. Her perfect white teeth glistening in excitement.

“Oh Felix!” She jumped in the air, her necklaces jangling. “I’ve been dreaming of this day.”

 

***

On the few occasions that I would become tiredly distressed at inspecting the various walkers outside the window on the stairs I would put on my suede brown shoes and venter across the road and into the park. It was littered with pigeons that I would kick away from my path. A statue stood in the park. It towered over the pigeons and the families ignoring it. I did not know who it was specifically, only that he used to be an influential figure who’s marble stone was now being worn away by bad weather and this shoulders covered in bird droppings. It fascinated me how this man contributed to how we lived in the world at that moment and no one would take the time from their delicate evening picnics to peer up at the societal architect that stood above them. I did not care for him, I did not care for the world. The carefully placed clouds floating over what I assumed was the horizon, although the night was dark so the lines were blurred, looked like a statue of this kind that no one cared to look at. I had explored the ship alone that day, for Victoria was still hiding and my parents had locked themselves in their room. I thought I saw them in the entertainment room as I wondered past, Father surrounded by faces and thick cigar smoke. I saw no children, and understood the immediate invisible law that the universal entertainment room would be reserved for those belonging to mature countries. A few boys maybe slightly older than myself stood around at the top of the deck, dancing around to the faded music coming from inside and trying to impress the older girls that were gliding away from them. I shouldn’t have stared, but my eyes were glued to the tall boy that looked older than the others. I wondered why he wasn’t playing with those his age.

“What you looking at?” His voiced pierced the icy air, a cockney tone. I immediately regretted wanting fresh air, and turned to leave the magical view of the blurred horizon. “Oh so you’re leaving now?” He advanced, the younger boys following behind. “Y’know this ship isn’t that big, you can’t run away.” Muffled laughter came from behind him.

“I was just-“ I stuttered, suddenly feeling very small.

“You were just- uh-uh?” The boy pretended to stutter severely, almost choking on his words. More muffled laughter. “What’s that rich boy? Persian cat got your tongue? If those are the cats you have. I wouldn’t know, I’m just a poor boy from Hackney. Shouldn’t even be here should I? Probably stole the third class ticket didn’t I? Well come on. You people have enough opinions, where are they now? Come on!” He pushed me back, the wooden deck absent of any grip because of the raw Ocean air. A sharp throb in my coccyx let a groan escape from my mouth. More laugher. “That’s right. You have no authority over us. On your own, you’re nothing.” I’m sure he would have said more if it weren’t for the person that appeared behind me. His eyes pulled up by an attraction, a smirk growing on his bony face. “Hey beautiful.” He leant a little too heavily on one foot, girlish giggles coming from behind him. I turned, seeing the stone grey heels and polished luminous hands. I had found Victoria, or rather, she had found me.

“What the f**k do you think you’re doing?” She was fierce, stealing all of the power he had sucked from me and those around him. He swallowed, stifled a laugh.

“Give me a minute love, I’ll be done in a second.” He swayed like a child, one side of his lip stretching up to his eyes. I heard her sharp intake of breath.

“Come here.” What was a fierce lion had now become a purring cat-like tone. He stepped closer, and as soon as he did BANG. The noise had made me blink quite sharply, when I opened my eyes the boy was next to me, lying on his back on the deck, his nose a dark shade of red. Two stone grey heels arrived next to his head, and two knees poking sharply through a dress as she bent down over him. “If you touch my brother again, I’ll throw your dirty body overboard.” It was almost a whisper, her red lips coming close to his ear. Muffled laughter came from behind him, quickly evaporating into the chilling air as they ran. I stood up, Victoria already walking over to the edge of the ship, leaning on the railings, her back straight as a statue. The boy stood up, he looked smaller. He smiled in the direction of Victoria, and then at me, before running into the yellow light.

“Thank you.” I mumbled, standing next to hear, my eyes peering up at hers, which looked black in the night. Her face was gently placed in the palm of her hand, lips pouted, eyes firmly focused on the horizon. She had changed from her previous clothes into a red dress that fell like lace to the floor. I assumed she had found our room, for her red dress was folded neatly at the bottom of her suitcase, hidden from Father’s protective eye.

“He said he wants to marry me.” She said to the moon. I choked on the air. Her eyes lazily glanced to me and upon seeing my expression burst into laughter. She had an infectious giggle, like a baby who’d learnt to smile for the first time it was a rare sight. A smile played on my lips, and I too was soon laughing into the frozen air.

“Are you going to?” I asked suddenly, unaware of who had posed the question.

“God no!” She snorted, then raised a polite hand to her face. “Well I suppose I should.” Her voice fell, any trace of laugher dissolving in the water below. “I am twenty. I’ve purposely tried to avoid marriage, you know. I don’t fancy it.”

“What’s wrong with marriage?” I asked, quite knowing the answer. She turned her gaze back to the moon. The moon was generous with its light, silver pillars lying on the deck, cutting through the atmosphere.

“It’s alright for you. It’s alright for men. But look what it’s done to Mother.” Her words sliced the air, floating in front of us, materialising into an image of Mother as we knew her before, collapsed in sheets, a depressed silence strangling her.

“That- that won’t be you.” I struggled with the words.

“Maybe not in that form, no god I hope not, but internally, yes, it will.” She was bitter, sad, but this was not directed at me, but at life itself. I started to believe that it was not me causing her sourness, but life itself. “I do not wish to let that happen. I do not wish to give a man my power, my intelligence, my body. My freedom. I do not wish that upon myself.” She sighed, a vulnerable sound that had escaped from a part of her I had not seen.

“Well, don’t then.”

“Don’t what then?” She mused, a quiet tear escaping from the blackness of her eyes.

“Don’t get married.” She scoffed. “No one says you have to. I’ve never understood these rules that aren’t proper rules. If everyone obeys them, why not make them into laws?”

“That’s a good question, Felix.” She smiled as I suddenly felt like she knew something of the world I didn’t. “Maybe one day someone will tell you the answers you are looking for.” I looked at the water freckled with ice. I saw our reflections, her skin shining through the blood red dress, and my messy brown hair that curled untamed on my head. She looked to the floating picture, framed with mysterious shapes that lurked beneath the surface.

“We’re crossing the Atlantic tomorrow. I overheard the sailors talking.” I said.

“You must stop spying on people.” She grinned, exasperated. “You will uncover secrets that no one was supposed to know.” It was as if she winked without winking, her face a playful expression that told me she wasn’t quite ready to try and change me like the maids were. “Well then,” she gently pushed herself away from the railing. “I am going to deny a marriage proposal.” And after placing a soft hand on my arm, she fell away.