Falling into the Ship of Dreams (Jack Dawson love story)

I trust you with my life

BANG!

The door of the steerage berthing aft was thrown open and the lights snapped on by a steward. The Cartmell family roused from a sound sleep.

"Everybody up. Let's go. Put your lifebelts on."

In the corridor outside, another steward was going from door to door along the hall, pouncing and yelling. "Lifebelts on! Lifebelts on! Everybody up, come on. Lifebelts on!"

People came out of the doors behind the steward, perplexed. In the foreground a Syrian woman asked her husband what was said, but he only shrugged, not understanding a word of English.

In the wireless room, Philips was looking around, shocked. "CQD, sir?"

Smith nodded. "That's right. The distress call. CQD. Tell whoever responds that we are going down by the head and need immediate assistance," he told him before hurrying out of the room.

Philips let out a heavy breath. "Blimey. "

Bride sent him a halfhearted grin. "Maybe you ought to try that new distress call... S.O.S. It may be our only chance to use it."

Phillips laughed in spite of himself and started sending history's first S.O.S. Dit dit dit, da da da, dit dit dit... over and over.

On the boat deck, Andrews looked around in amazement. The deck was empty except for the crew fumbling with the davits. He yelled over the roar of the steam to First Officer Murdoch.

"Where are all the passengers?"

"They've all gone back inside," Murdoch replied. "Too damn cold and noisy for them."

Andrews felt like he was in a bad dream. He looked at his pocket watch and headed for the foyer entrance.

On the A-deck foyer, a large number of First Class passengers had gathered near the staircase. They were getting indignant about the confusion.

Molly Brown snagged a passing young steward. "What's doing, sonny? You've got us all trussed up and now we're cooling our heels."

The young steward backed away, actually stumbling on the stairs. "Sorry, mum. Let me go and find out."

The jumpy piano rhythm of "Alexander's Ragtime Band" came out of the first class lounge a few yards away. The band leader Wallace Hartley had assembled some of his men on Captain's orders, to allay panic. Caledon's entourage soon came up to the A-deck foyer, Caledon, himself, carrying the lifebelts, almost as an afterthought. Avery was like a sleepwalker.

"It's just the God damned English doing everything by the book," said Caledon.

"There's no need for language, Mr. Hockley," Ruth said sternly before turning to Trudy. "Go back and turn the heater on in my room, so it won't be too cold when we get back."

Avery sent a sideways glance her way. "There's no need for that," she muttered under her breath.

Thomas Andrews then entered, looking around the magnificent room, which he knew was doomed. Avery, standing nearby, saw his heartbroken expression and immediately walked over to him, ignoring the fact that Caledon decided to follow her.

"I saw the iceberg, Mr. Andrews," she said softly, not bothering to care about the skeptical look she was getting from Caledon for her accent. "And I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth." Even if I already know it.

Andrews sighed. "The ship will sink."

"You're certain?" Of course he is, you idiot! So are you, you already know its history...