Caerdwin@GeoCities.com
"Uncle Charles?" I tried to get my uncle’s attention, but he was so enamoured of the docked ship that he was paying little attention to me. I looked up at the behemoth and shuddered. I had to get out of this tour. Frantically, My mind raced through several excuses of why I couldn’t step foot on Titanic. She was a towering monster and I was terrified to even be next to her, much less board her.
"Uncle Charles!" He started, looking at me harshly. I drew back a bit, but continued my pleading.
"Uncle Charles, I’m sorry. I’m really not feeling well at all. I’d like to just stay here on the docks if that’s all right." I was hoping he and Ashton would be to preoccupied with the ship to argue with me. Uncle Charles narrowed his eyes sternly under the brim of his hat.
"You know very well how improper it would be for you to stay out here alone. Come along, Brenda. I’ve no time to pamper your every unfounded fear…" He reached back to take my arm, but I shied away from the gangplank. His lips tightened and the corners of his mouth turned down. As much as I hated the thought of making him angry, I hated the idea of boarding that enormous floating casket even more. Looking fixedly into my eyes, something came over him. He glanced over his shoulder, letting his eyes travel up and beyond the bridge to the funnels, then looked back at me. His glare softened to what I thought to be amusement and his shoulders relaxed. Reaching into his pocket he pulled a small amount of money and held it out to me.
"Alright then. See the eatery over there, just beyond the White Star building? Go hole yourself up in there and have a bit of tea. We’ll come fetch you after the tour. Don’t leave, understand? Your mother would have me skinned and hung from the rafters for this if she knew." Shaking his head and patting Ashton on the shoulder, he turned away from me and began up the gangplank. I watched them talking together, then Uncle Charles turned back to me once again.
"Brenda, you got out of it this time, but soon you’ll have to come to terms with Her…" Leaving the last bit to hang in the air, he continued up the last stretch of plank to the open hatch. I had no clue what he was implying, but I wasn’t interested in finding out. My immediate mission was to get far away from that ship and the awful dread that filled me by being near her.
I crossed the dock platform and saw the dock worker moving Uncle Charles’s travelling car to a proper parking spot. I hurried by a group of crewmen who eyed me with an expression I didn’t care to translate. My concentration lay solely with the task of reaching that delicatessen. So intent upon my mission was I that I failed to see the gentleman who stepped in front of me. Before I knew what I was about, I was on the ground looking at the sky. Feeling a tad embarrassed and humiliated, I clumsily tried to get back up. A hand reached out to help me and I accepted it readily. Once off the ground I tried to dust myself off and recompose myself.
"I’m terribly sorry Miss. I should have watched where I was walking. My apologies." His voice carried an odd accent that I couldn’t quite place. Almost an English accent, but more softly slurred. It had a nice timbre to it as well. Not a booming baritone, but not a nasally squeak sound either. I decided that I rather liked it. I hoped the face that it belonged to was as nice. When I raised my eyes up to meet his, I was taken aback. I’d never seen a man so handsome. Handsome really didn’t cover it. He was beautiful. His eyes were a crystal clear blue-green and his hair was flaxen blonde with streaks from the sun. He was tall and muscular, not like the docksmen, but more like an athlete. He had a cleft in his chin that kept him from appearing boyishly cute. A nice manly touch, I thought.
"Are you alright Miss? You seem shaken, are you hurt?"
As he looked at me I could see that his manner held nothing snobbish or self-possessed. His expression was kind and concerned. Just as I knew something was off with the ship behind me, I also knew the man in front of me was worth my attention. I’d always been somewhat shy, but now I felt totally mute. I was hoping if he asked me my name that I’d be able to remember it.
"Well, if I appear to be shaken, it’s because I’m trying to get to that delicatessen and away from the docks. So far as blame goes, I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention either so no apology is necessary…" I slowly circled my way around him in an effort to underscore my path to the eatery. He broke into a wide grin at my words and I felt my heart flutter and my breath hinge in my throat.
"Oh no! I must apologize for having my head in the clouds and my eyes firmly planted that ship. I fear it’s made me a careless dolt." He laughed lightly and even a tiny blush came across his cheeks. I might have been more charmed by it if he hadn’t mentioned That Ship.
"That ship… You mean Titanic?" I glanced up and realized that I was facing Titanic again and turned away quickly, blanching. The man walked back around to face me. His eyebrows went up and he shot a quick look at the ship, then back to me.
"Yes, I’m very taken with her. She’s amazing. Is something wrong?"
"No, I guess I’m just not much of a ship person." That wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t want to seem silly or melodramatic to him. He didn’t laugh at me though. Instead he shrugged and flicked a casual glance back toward the leviathan.
"They aren’t for everyone I suppose. It’s certainly not a shortcoming." Suddenly he turned very serious and I wondered what was wrong.
"May I ask your name?"
"What?" My heart skipped a beat.
"Might I inquire as to your name?" He broke back into that infectious grin again and I felt a tremor of panic.
"I would like to know what to address you by if I’m going to see you safely to your destination…" There was nothing presumptuous about his statement. He was obviously a gentleman and would not consider letting me walk to the deli alone. Although embarrassed, I relaxed right away and even felt my own smile beginning to function again.
"Oh, sorry. Brenda DeMarquette." I held my hand out to shake his; a most unladylike gesture. He didn’t bat an eyelash, but took my hand firmly in his own and shook it warmly.
"A lovely name for a lovely lady. Jasper Jacks, but please just call me Jax." He smartly turned to my left side and offered his arm. I took it without a second thought. What my mind did return to however, was his accent.
"You don’t sound French…" Jax’s mouth twitched at my remark and his eyes flicked sideways at me.
"Nor do you, Miss DeMarquette."
"Ugh, please, I won’t call you Jasper if you don’t call me Miss. Brenda will do just fine."
"Alright. Like I said Brenda, you don’t exactly exude a French attitude yourself."
"That might come from the fact that I’m not French. At least not fully. My father was French, but my mother is American. We lived in London, then in Belfast. Right now we’re here in Southampton while my Uncle finishes his work on Titanic. So I suppose my accent would be considered murky at best." We reached the eatery and settled into a table booth. Jax looked out the window where Titanic’s stern rose high into the air. I moved my seat so that my back was to her. Jax watched me and frowned thoughtfully.
"Brenda, why are you so upset by Titanic? She’s just a ship like any other…"
"That’s not a ship Jax, it’s a monstrosity…" My voice sounded sharper than I intended. I felt gooseflesh begin to crawl up my arms and shivered involuntarily. Jax put a hand out to pat my arm and I shivered again for a different reason.
"Why don’t you tell me what you don’t like about her. Maybe I can ease your fears." His smile was not patronizing like Aston’s or even Uncle Charles’s. It was soothing and washed over me like the best healing balm. Still, I had no words to fit my agitation so I turned the tables on him.
"I have a better idea, Jax. Why don’t you tell me what you DO like about her and maybe I’ll gain a better perception of her." He seemed to have an endless supply of smiles as another spread across his face. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. His brow deepened in thought and he stared out the window. When he did speak again, I could tell his words were being chosen with great care.
"I also lived in Belfast for a time. I moved my office there last September to handle negotiations between Jacks Incorporated and Revlon Fabrics…"
"Revlon Fabrics? They’re quite the large company now!" I was truly impressed by this. I knew of Revlon Fabrics from investments my mother had made with the company. ‘Investments’ wasn’t actually the right word. Mother and father had been the company’s main benefactors when they were just getting started.
"You know the company?" Jax’s eyebrows raised and I could tell he was impressed by me as well. A silent cheer went up inside my head.
"Yes, my family has turned a hand or two for them. I interrupted you though… Please go on. You moved to Belfast…" As much as I would have loved to further impress him with my above-average knowledge of financial strategies and company holdings, I really wanted that look of daydreamy bliss to come back to his face when he looked at the ship out the window. Watching his features relax and soften gave me my own sense of elation.
"Oh yes… Well, the negotiations were tedious at best. I really love the game, the hunt of financial gain, but this put even my patience to a real test. One afternoon it just all got out of hand in the proceedings, so I went down to the docks to think and unwind from the tension. That’s when I saw her for the first time." He turned his eyes intensely upon me to make his point. I was mesmerized by them. They lit up as the memory of that day came to him. I found myself anxiously waiting for him to run his hand through his hair again. I could tell it was an offhand habit and I was just captivated each time he did it. So captivated by it that I realized that he’d started talking again and I’d missed half the sentence.
"…but this was so different somehow. It’s not something I could really describe, she just captivated me…" Oh boy, I knew that feeling…
"…when I saw her sister ship, Olympic, I almost fell over…" Something else I understood perfectly…
"…so absolutely majestic and streamlined. She wasn’t even finished yet and I couldn’t believe how beautiful I already thought she was…" Yes, yes. Beautiful. Yes indeed…
"Brenda?" I could just hear him saying my name in my fog of adulation. Then I realized suddenly that he really was saying my name. Feeling like a royal ass, I tried to cover the best I could.
"Hmm? Oh gee, I’m sorry. I really just got so caught up in the mental image you just painted me." I hoped the indignity of being slack-jawed and fog-brained would lend to the illusion that I’d actually heard a word that he’d said.
"I don’t think so Brenda. I think you were drifting on me there…" He smiled knowingly and I felt my face temperature go up twenty degrees.
"No, I wasn’t! You think Titanic is indescribably beautiful and majestic just like her sister Olympic." Luckily, I had learned the art of bullshit from the best bullshitter of them all: My brother Ashton.
"Ok, I’ll let you off the hook this time…"
"Funny, that’s the second time today…" The smart retort was out of my mouth before I even thought about it. My lip curled involuntarily at the idea that anyone needed to let me off any hook.
"Why do you say that?" Jax was confused but still smiling with the anticipation of my answer.
"Mmm, well, my Uncle Charles tried to take me on a tour of Titanic today with my brother, but I managed to plead illness and get out of it…" I saw Jax’s jaw drop slightly, but I thought he was just aghast at me not going on the tour.
"Charles… DeMarquette? Charlie?" He shook his head and laughed heartily. Now I was confused.
"You know my uncle, Jax?"
"Oh yeah. My brother Jerry and I put a sizable amount of money toward renovating the Belfast docks. I’ve had the privilege of enjoying many an ale in your uncle’s company. You know, he spoke often of Ashton, but he never mentioned that he had such a striking niece…" Jax realized a bit too late that his phrasing might not have been the best choice.
"Perhaps he thought it inappropriate to speak of me in a tavern." My voice carried a slight edge that I hadn’t meant to let seep through. I was flattered, but while my heart fluttered at Jax’s compliment, it sank at the thought of Uncle Charles not mentioning me at all. I think Jax caught a glimpse of my disappointment, and hurried to agree with my take on the situation.
"I’m sure you’re right. I can’t imagine him being anything less than wrapped tightly around your little finger, after all, I would be." Mother would have been scandalized by the wink he threw across the table at me. I could have floated right up to the clouds if there hadn’t been a ceiling in my way.
"Mr. Jacks, you are the flirtatious one, aren’t you?"
"Is it working?" His eyes positively sparkled. My heart positively stopped.
"Working?"
"Will you allow me to escort you back to the ship?"
"Of course." At that moment, he could have asked to escort me to the gallows and I would have gladly accepted. We stood up and I walked to the door as Jax paid the tab. Once outside the fear gripped me again. Seeing my renewed anxiety, Jax offered his arm in an overly gallant manner. Smiling faintly, I took it. He nestled my arm in the crook of his own and squeezed my hand reassuringly. It was as though he was my shield, for the terrible pit in my stomach eased and I found that I could almost breathe normally. He glanced curiously at me out of the corner of his crystal blue eye, and I lifted my chin to try to appear brave. Whatever the actual look turned out to be, it got him to smile. I didn’t really mind seeming foolish if it kept that angelic smile on his face.