Chapter 2 #2
And yet, this was the inquiry office, not the setting of Dark and Stormy. And she figured why he’d need help: a few smudges ran along his pants and coat, and a smaller one stained his cheek. A mishap on the train or in the carriage here, perhaps? Or had something happened on the ship?
He finally blinked. “No. I’m fine.” He picked up the book as they both rose.
“Good.” She wasn’t sure why a smile crept onto her lips. “If you need something, you’ll want to get in line. Unless I cut in? I’m sorry, were you—”
“I …” He looked toward the counters, then back at her. “Yes.”
“Yes, I cut in, or yes, you’d like to get in line?”
“I’ll …” He made a few awkward steps to the right until he was approximately queued up. He put his hands behind his back, only to realize he was still holding the book, and handed it to her. “Sorry. That’s yours.”
“Have you read it?”
He glanced at the cover, briefly frowning. “No, but I’ve heard of it.”
“Oh, you should read it. It’s lovely. It’s about a boy who can fly and comes from a magical land where everyone stays young forever. He meets a girl and her two brothers and invites them with him, and they go and have grand adventures—well, I shouldn’t spoil it for you, especially the ending.”
“You’re still reading it, but you already know the ending?”
“It’s based on a play. Peter Pan. A childhood favorite of mine.
” When Emmeline had first seen it, she’d become convinced she’d be an actress when she grew up.
For months afterward, she’d taken her mother’s fine evening gown—a foot too long for her—wrapped strings of pearls around her neck, hopped on the desk that was her stage, and pretended to be Lily Elsie.
“It sounds wonderful.” A corner of his mouth quirked up, and his eyes softened into an almost dreamlike gaze.
She clutched the book, beaming back. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
Everything about him was fascinating—from how he behaved to how he dressed and even how he talked.
His accent sounded American in one second and almost British in another, but the way villagers back in Dorset spoke, not like the more refined enunciation of her mother.
“I’m Emmeline.” She offered him her gloved hand.
With a slight delay, he took it. “Leon.”
“Pleasure.” As the line moved, she put her hat on but kept glancing back at him. Leon stood close behind—but not too close to be improper—hands now clasped on his back. He looked like a guard. Her guard. Hmm. A Lady and Her Guard. That would be quite the romance.
Don’t get carried away.
As the line shortened, the crowds cleared, and by the time Emmeline got to the purser, only a few people still milled about.
She resolved the cabin conundrum—now having been put in a single-berth stateroom, sadly next to her brothers—and booked all the activities her mother wanted to partake in.
As she turned away from the counter, Leon was still waiting.
“You don’t need to talk to the purser?” She asked as she approached him.
“I—uh—I can sort it out later.”
A deep hum of the ship’s whistle came from outside, interrupting them. “The ship’s leaving!” Emmeline grabbed Leon’s hand, excitement subduing her surprise at having grabbed a stranger. “Come! We have to find a good space.”
He didn’t protest as she dragged him toward the exit upstairs, bursting into the light of the deck.
They were high up now, the nearest funnel rising impossibly tall and wide so close up.
But even so, Emmeline could barely see the docks and the people below.
The decks were swamped with passengers, all squeezing next to the railing trying to get the best vantage point, leaning over to wave at friends or families they were leaving behind.
“We appear to be slightly late for the best spots,” Leon remarked.
He was taller than her; by about half a head, she judged, and even she wasn’t nearly as petite as her mother.
If he couldn’t see anything—excluding the possible blockage of her hat—there was no hope.
She turned in a circle, taking in the crowd populating the entire length of the ship’s port side.
Every good spot had been taken. Every good spot, except for …
She caught movement: a small dark shape climbing up the funnel furthest from them. Light smoke wafted from the first three funnels, but not the last one, and a minute later, as a tiny dot of a head appeared on top of it, it clicked.
All was not lost yet.
“This way.” She grabbed Leon’s hand once again. They navigated the deck, jumping over a gate separating the first class from the second—a bit down, a bit up—until they reached the fourth funnel.
“What is going on?” Leon asked.
“There has to be—a-ha!” Emmeline pointed to a narrow metallic ladder leading up the funnel. “I found us the best viewing point.”
Leon looked to the ladder, then to her. “Surely not.”
“You don’t need to go if you’re afraid of heights. I’ll be right back.” She ran to the ladder, but paused. She’d nowhere to put her book.
Foiled by her own stubbornness. She could already hear Mother’s voice chastising her. A lady doesn’t carry her book with her; those belong in libraries, not on walks.
“Here.” Leon was suddenly next to her and laid his hand on the book, waiting a second for permission. Emmeline nodded, and he stored it in the inside pocket of his coat. “You go first. I’ll be right behind.”
She flashed him the brightest smile and got to climbing, checking her grip and lodging her heel firmly on each rung.
In a few minutes, they’d both climbed to the top, jumping down on a small metal platform running along the inside edge of the funnel.
The noise caught the attention of the crewman leaning on the edge—the one Emmeline had seen climb up.
“Hey, you—” he started as he turned, but Emmeline put a finger on her lips and gave him a conspiratorial wink. If it was safe for him to be up here, surely it was also safe for them.
When he didn’t object further, she pointed Leon to a good spot, and they tiptoed to the edge, a little giggle escaping her. The funnel ended at chest height, perfect to lean on and enjoy the view—and oh, what a view she had!
It was like being on top of the world and owning everything within her sight. The rounded stern of the ship; the thick steel and wooden mast, secured by a dozen cables; and the sea of people gathered at the dock far below, waiting for the giant to sail out.
She might as well be flying, heading on to Neverland.
“Isn’t it glorious?” She offered her face to the breeze and the ray of sun bursting through the clouds. Freedom.
“It is.” Leon’s searched the horizon, as if he couldn’t decide which part of the view to take in first.
With another whistle, the ship got moving, lumbering out of the dock with the help of tugboats, which looked like mere dinghies compared to the Titanic.
They touted their own whistles, like the young greeting its mother, and above that celebratory noise came the rushing of the crowd on the docks and a lively violin tune from the band on the promenade.
To Emmeline’s surprise, the crowd continued all along the dock, interspersed with an occasional flash of camera and more music.
She found Leon’s eyes again, and they shared a smile, then turned to the crowd.
Emmeline waved and shouted her goodbyes, not that she had anyone down there to say goodbye to, and not that they could’ve heard her, either.
They stayed up the funnel for long minutes—ten, twenty, perhaps; until the crewman cleared his throat, indicating it was time to climb down.
As people below began to clear the decks, Emmeline and Leon joined them.
She felt electrified, breathless, as her feet touched the solid wood again.
“The book.” Leon produced it in his hand.
She nudged it back toward him. “Why don’t you borrow it? Read it during the voyage, and then we can discuss it.”
“But it’s yours.”
“You’ll give it back. And if not …” She quirked her lips. “I’ll track you down. You can’t escape me on the ship.”
“All right.” He locked her into another soft gaze—so curious and so … comforting.
“I should get back to my family,” she said, stirring herself out of his hypnotism. It didn’t matter if her parents found out she climbed a funnel or not; they’d find something to berate her for. “I’ll see you soon, yes?”
“Yes,” he said with a slight, unsure delay.
She gave him one last wave and, picking up her skirt, ran away.