Titanic: True Love Forever

Chapter 40: Come Back

The white corridors of the first class cabin looked really miserable for Jack and I, but since it was late, we didn't scare the other guests. We had to find our way back to third class quickly before we were shooed out by the waiter, and I found myself a little short of bracing myself. The two days of fooling around combined with hardly any real sleep had left me with a tight chest and weak legs now, even as a weak sweat kept pouring out of me.

Jack could see that something was wrong with me, and he crooked his mouth down, the spot where Carl had hit him making him look bad. He walks over to me, his hand a little stiffly resting vaguely on the spot on my back, worried that I'll pass out, probably to him things have been a mess lately, and a head full of questions leaves him with a little bit of a dazed look on his face still. As we both walked, we suddenly felt something was wrong and turned back almost simultaneously.

Rose took a step back at our synchronization rate, and she gave a stiff, unmistakable smile, but unfortunately the wolfishness of her face made it look more like she was about to cry. With a slight tremor of residual shock in her voice she said, "I feel so sorry, I really do, I didn't know he was that bad, what he did was just too ...... unimaginable."

I immediately shook my head and said in a raspy voice, "You should go back, he hasn't done anything but tie me up and jump around all the time." Compared to me almost kicking him into disrepair, that Carl Hockley guy was kind of polite, kept moving his mouth and didn't even curse a single flower. Basically, I think he met me worse, and I wouldn't have been so rude to him if he hadn't forced me to be stranded on the Titanic.

"It's cold out there." Jack reminded Rose a little worriedly as he looked at the long red dress she was wearing.

"I'm fine." Rose immediately gave him a friendly smile, "Thank you, thank you for saving me, Mr. Dawson."

"Jack, my name is Jack." Jack immediately spoke up and corrected himself, as if it made him uncomfortable to be called Mr. Dawson.

"Jack." Rose corrected herself with good grace and then said to us, "You guys are getting engaged, so congratulations."

It was such a shocking statement that Jack and I immediately shook our heads desperately, "I'm not in that kind of relationship with him/her." The emphasis was fast and loud, and the skimming was almost as fast as running for our lives.

Rose took another step back at our divinely synchronized and bizarre reaction, and she wiped her face with her hand in a somewhat lop-sided manner, knowing by the way she moved that the remnants of the makeup that had washed over her face from the tears were quite unseemly. Jack had taken a step forward and explained to her seriously, "Emily is a friend of mine, we were supposed to get off the ship, but there was some sort of accident around noon. She was taken and I had to stay and see what happened. The result ......" The result was that Jack couldn't go on, because he suddenly realized that the result was followed by the fact that the person's fiancé had kidnapped his own friend and was planning to imprison the person.

Jack's voice inevitably lowered as he gazed at Rose and said to her with a certain pity, "Is that how he's always treated you?"

"No, he seems crazy, I've never seen him so inconsiderate, it feels as horrible as if his family were going bankrupt." Rose said without any hesitation.

"Don't do anything stupid in the future, no matter how hard life gets, because we always come across better things." Jack told her graciously, an encouraging smile on his face

Rose seemed to be touched by his words, those lingering fears under her eyes from being shocked slowly melting away. She looked at Jack, so intently for the first time, "Thank you." The thank you was sincere.

Jack lifted his shoulders down carelessly, "You're welcome."

I was breathlessly fussing around, "Guys, we'll talk about marriage later, if we stand here any longer I think the waiter is going to kick us out." The three of us were blocking the corridor, Jack looked like he was from the lower class at first glance, and Rose, although her clothes and hair, including her face, were long with first class markings, the problem was that she had makeup and tear stains on her face that were easy to misunderstand. Not to mention me, a head of messy hair a loose pajamas, even if Carl's jacket is draped over me, but when the movement is big wrist bruises can always be clearly revealed, we feel like escaping from the scene of a disaster.

"Let's go below, it's a bit cramped in the third class berths but I know a few women who will be willing to take you in for a few nights. It won't be long until we reach New York, Emily." Jack turned his eyes to me, his curiosity about first class having long since been consumed in that earlier confrontation, and now he looked desperately in need of getting back on his own turf, especially since he had women to look after.

"Do you need help?" Rose nervously clasped her hands in front of each other as she asked us with kindness in her heart.

"No, not right now. Listen, Rose, you should go to your room, take a shower and change your clothes, and a cup of hot water, and in the meantime forget about all the mess you just made and get some sleep." I walked directly in front of her and reached out to place my hand on her arm, I could sense that her outward calmness was just a repressed disguise and that she was actually terrified just now. Coming back from jumping in the ocean and seeing her fiancé go nuts wouldn't go over well with any woman. "You don't have to pay attention to your fiancé, he's just a paper tiger. Third class is a bit messy for you, you shouldn't come with us."

The forced smile on Rose's face slowly faded as she suddenly ran a hand over her forehead, her loose curls being ruffled back as she shook her head, "You're right, I know." She seemed to try her hardest to say something, but in the end it didn't come out, she just took a few steps back and forced a smile.

Jack stares at her blankly for a long time before agreeing with me, "Don't be intimidated by a paper tiger, and if he tries to be rude to you again, you'll beat him up."

Rose laughed out loud, irritated by his words, and she nodded her head down, a little sadly, and agreed, "I will." Then she turned around and walked back, taking a few steps and looking back at us, as if there was a dragon's den in front of her, and every step she took was particularly difficult.

Jack watched her back expressionlessly, but with obvious concern between his eyebrows. Then he suddenly said to me, "That man is not a thing, what has he done? If I hadn't stayed on deck and asked for information, she might have fallen overboard by now."

I leaned back against the porch and ran my hand over the back of my neck, which was covered in cold sweat. Taking one deep breath, I said to Jack, "Let's get down there and not make a scene." To talk about love and life and ideals will be tomorrow, it's confusing enough as it is, and I just don't have the strength to protect them if Rose runs off with us again.

"Uh-huh." Rose hadn't made it around the corner yet, and Jack answered but his body didn't move.

I followed suit and eyed her back when another man suddenly stepped around the corner, drawings under his armpits and a notepad in his hand, he came face to face with Rose and blurted out unguardedly, "Rose? What's wrong with you?"

It was Andrew, who by the looks of him seemed intent on going back to his room to continue working. I straightened up in a flash and walked forward quickly, Jack calling out to me in surprise, which I ignored. Coming straight up next to Rose, I said to him, "Hello Mr. Andrew, there's something I'd like to say to you, do you have a moment?"

"Emily?" Andrew had a pleasant smile on his face when he saw me, but the next second he got a good look at me he froze and pursed his smile back as he looked at my wrecked appearance with some shock. "What happened, you look terrible and ...... your hand?" He looked keenly at my wrist which wasn't fully exposed, the large bruise on it was scary, he continued with an immediate reaction back, "Do you want me to get Shoemaker for you? He is the head of affairs here, you can seek help from him ...... No, isn't your itinerary booked to disembark with your uncle as soon as you get to Queenstown?"

"None of that matters, please give me some time, there's something I want to tell you." The dead horse was dead, my head was like mush and I instinctively tried to stay Andrew's footsteps.

"It seems important, come with me." Andrew glanced at Jack, as if he thought he was being abrupt here, but he politely refrained from issuing a question. Clamping the drawings under his own arm, he led us forward, during which time we encountered the upper-class cabin attendant, whom Andrew politely instructed. The designer then led us directly to our own upper-class room, where he opened the door and invited us in.

I could see that the hospitality parlor was completely different from Carl's first class room, and I was told that every room in upper class was designed in a different style, which White Star had gone to great lengths to do in order to appeal to the wealthiest passengers of the age. Andrew familiarly spread the drawings out on the table in the living room, and under the lamp, blue drawings delicately mapped out parts of the Titanic's hull. He placed his notepad, and pen, on the drawing, then pulled out his chair and said to me, "Emily, come sit here, and Rose with ......"

"Jack Dawson." Jack hastily extended his hand and shook Andrew's.

Andrew gave his hand a friendly shake and smiled in response, "Hello, Mr. Dawson." Then he let go of Jack's hand and pulled out another chair, this one for Rose.

I walked over to the seat, the outer layer of which was all aesthetically cluttered with floral patterns, and the cushion had a fine layer of fuzz that looked like a snowdrift in the light. Listlessly, I sat down and put my hands on the table, just in front of the large design.

Andrew waited for Rose to sit down before returning to the chair in front of me, holding his hands together on the drawing as was his habit, before saying to me, "Do you need me to get you a doctor? You looked so upset yesterday, I thought you'd be off the boat by noon."

I really did want to get off the boat if I could. I don't think there is a single person on this ship who is more eager to get off the boat than I am.

I tried to cheer myself up and push down the feeling of airiness and chest tightness, Andrew could see how weak I was and he said softly, "I think you should be having a hard time, but don't be inconsiderate, you still have a family, Emily."

Family? This place, this world I was alone in now.

"What I'm going to say now is going to be unbelievable, but I hope you don't think of me as a psychopath, and even if you don't believe me, please hear me out first." I tried to think back to Carl's words, the upper echelons of intrigue and interest entanglement. Then raising my eyes to meet Andrews, "This ship will sink, Mr. Andrews."

Then I saw the pupils of his eyes shrink, and the force of his ten fingers interlocking snapped taut. Of course this is just a normal reaction to being startled, and he disengages from the shock for half a second before frowning in displeasure and saying, "Emily, you can't make jokes like that, you'll get in trouble if anyone hears you."

Any White Star or shipyard worker would have hated to strangle me if they heard that.

"White Star is in serious financial trouble, you should know that they had a meeting to disguise the wrecked Olympic as the Titanic and sink it to extort a large sum of insurance money to survive the bankruptcy." I think too much intensity would have made me breathe harder, cold sweat would have set in, and I could feel my back go cold.

"There is such a thing? It's unbelievable, it's impossible, there are over two thousand passengers on this ship." Andrew couldn't imagine at all that such a cruel plan could be real, he shook his head in quick succession, refusing to talk to me about it.

"You should be in a position to ask around, the California hasn't gone back yet, it's the pick-up ship after the iceberg. When the profit reaches 300% businessmen dare to do anything, they are committing a crime, Mr. Andrews." I put my hand on the drawing which just happened to show the bilge boiler room, "A lot of people will die, the first to die will be those workers at the bottom who won't be able to escape in time for the isolation hatches to close on their own."

"The ship hasn't sunk yet Emily, not a single person will die. And you're talking about the Olympic, but this is the Titanic, and no one can deceive my eyes. I've watched how the Titanic was built with my own eyes, it's even every nail in the cabin that is familiar to me." Andrew puts his hand on the center of the hull as if in a tussle, both of our eyes equally determined and unconvincing. He points a finger somewhere on the drawing, "This is the lounge, which I intend to convert into an upper class room, and this is the Spartan style third class fellowship hall, which I intend to add an extra tap to. The Board of Trade people inspected the Titanic two thousand times, I was there almost every time, and there's no way I'm going to be able to misidentify the ships Four-Zero-Zero with Four-Zero-One."

Four Zero Zero is Olympic and Four One is Titanic, which is the number they were given at the shipyard before they had names.

"But the conspiracy has always existed, and no one can deny that White Star is treating us all like insurance money and intends to drive the ship into an iceberg. Even if this isn't the Olympic, but can you guarantee that the conspiracy will stop because of that? What if they'd just tried to send the Titanic crashing into an iceberg?" I stood up angrily and pressed my hands heavily on the drawing; whatever ship this was, and whether there was a conspiracy or not, it was going to sink under the Atlantic in a few days.

I certainly couldn't say that I was damn good at prophecy, or that I had traveled across the world. Anyone who said that would look at me like I was crazy, and I could only bring up the conspiracy that guy Carl had talked about to fool people. Deadpanning that it was a conspiracy from above got Andrew's attention, he could do so much more than I could, he was the chief designer of the ship, if he wanted to save it then he could come up with a whole bunch of ways to do it right away.

"That's not going to happen, it's a brand new ship, the finest we've ever built, White Star won't sacrifice it no matter what." Andrew was also infuriated by me, and not caring about his manners of not getting angry with a lady, he too stood up and pressed the drawing in the same position as me.

We looked at each other in disbelief, both seeing our persistent and crazy selves in the other's eyes.

Rose sat with Jack, unable to interject, watching us with a stunned look on her face.

"But you can't deny that there is a conspiracy, and I am a passenger on this ship, and I have a right to demand that you find out what is going on, and to solve such hidden dangers where lives are at stake. Mr. Andrews, White Star's plan to blackmail the insurance money was real, and you can't convince me to ignore it." Who cares if it's Olympic or Titanic, as long as this conspiracy ever met, then I'm going to die and bite the bullet for any reason, slow the Titanic down, even if it's just a minute slowing down to give the ship time to avoid the icebergs I've won.

I couldn't go to the captain because he didn't have time to pay any attention to me. I couldn't go to Ismay either, he'd just kill me. Only Andrew, no matter who he's dealing with, will stop his humility to listen to your needs.

Andrew looked at me incredulously; he probably found my words grotesque and incomprehensible. It made him tap his fingers on the table anxiously, his brow furrowed, and then he asked skeptically, "Where do you get your information from? I wouldn't trust you with something like that, Emily."

Sources. I run a hand over my forehead with difficulty, my hands full of sweat, and my eyes blacken in a paroxysm as I look at Andrew.

The crystal chandelier in the room was so bright that I felt the weight of that emptiness, and I realized that I had overestimated my physical fitness, and that this titanic pain was simply a sign that the months of running around were about to start to explode in a big way. The premonition that once you fall down, you don't want to get back up easily.

Exhausted, I told him, "The message is true, you just have to check it out and you'll find the traces." The fact that he hadn't even gone back to the California proved that Calhokely had given White Star a large sum of money for a short period of time, which was why they hadn't cleaned up all the traces of the crime.

"No, you have to tell me, or there's no way I'm going to start making a big deal out of it just for your words." Andrew rejected my message, the disbelief evident on his face, reason and emotion intertwining into a fierce eye struggle that finally settled on me in a hardened, pleading manner.

I'd even punched and grabbed the boat ticket, so where was I going to find a solid source to prove the truth in my words. And as that Carl guy said, White Star had weathered the funding crisis in short order, so this Olympic replacement for the Titanic was aborted, and no one believed the Titanic would sink because no one would intentionally hit an iceberg. But it ended up in an accident, and accidents are the least believable, so I had to bite the bullet on the conspiracy.

"Even if White Star did plan such a terrible conspiracy, you couldn't have known about it, you're just a kid, what's your uncle's relationship with White Star?" He intuitively assumed that this information came from my fictional uncle, if he waited for him to go back to the passenger list, then not to mention my uncle, even I didn't exist anymore.

I struggled to turn my stagnant brain, realizing that even the strength to stand was pretty much gone, and my hand still faltered as I braced myself on the tabletop. Then I drifted off and heard myself say something like, "Old ...... old lover."

It was a momentary slur, and when I tried to wake up a little more, I realized that the scene was awfully quiet. Jack was looking at me with an astonished but knowing expression, while Rose looked incredulous as if she had heard some great secret. Andrew paused for a few seconds before speaking, "You mean the message came from Mr. Calhokley?"

Carl ...... Hockley?

I had difficulty retracing the words that had just exited my mouth, feeling that I had missed something, and then I slowly remembered. Carl and I are old ...... lovers!

Unconsciously utilizing on him again for nothing. I immediately rubbed my face and nodded my head without hesitation, an old lover is an old lover, but looking at Jack and Rose's eyes, I guess I can't even jump into the Atlantic Ocean to wash away this layer of false relationship with Carl's bastard.

"He told me." I said with conviction, it wasn't a lie anyway, he did tell me.

"Ismay was on the ship with him, and as rude as it is to say this, if this conspiracy is true then they won't be on board." Andrew, who knew the nature of that group of self-serving merchants particularly well, commented honestly, "They're all businessmen, they wouldn't do anything to jeopardize their own lives."

It's so hard to fool, he sees too much into it, if the ship was going to intentionally crash into an iceberg, then with Ismay's and Carl's fearful nature, they'd climb back off the Titanic with a rope to tie them up. I'm being beaten by the wise chief designer. Can we just wait until the night of the 14th and let the ship crack and then 1500 people die in front of me? As far as I know, the team of guarantors Andrews led with the voyage was a total loss, and those were the shipbuilder's super-elite.

I took another deep breath in an attempt to push the vertigo down.

I really wanted to ignore everything, just lie down in the lifeboat, wait until the ship sank and then go to the distance to watch a thousand people howling miserably to death in front of you. The great shipwreck will play out however you want it to, the nine hundred working men will go down however they want to go down, and the children and women in third class will be sacrificed if they want to be sacrificed.

It is better to be as cold-blooded as you want to be, and not to die on your head what are you jumping up and down about ......

"Emily, the Titanic is I personally from the drawings to participate in, from the keel design to the steel plate model to the final it launched, three whole years. It's our heart and soul, and I love it." The seriousness on Andrew's face turned into a deep exhaustion, a kind of tenderness and cherishing appeared in his gaze before he flipped open his own notebook and gently slid his fingers through the dense notes on it. "We both love it, it's a good ship, I won't take your word for it, and there's no way this conspiracy is going to happen, don't make me angry with you."

Is that why you went down with the ship when it finally sank?

I looked at the marks at the corners of Andrew's eyes and the dark shadows of simmering that weren't obvious under his eyes, and figured that he'd been walking all over the ship from the moment he boarded it just to find out what was lacking so he could make the Titanic perfect.

Once again, I was dying, my fingers almost digging into someone's precious drawings, and holding my breath, I said, "If you really love it that much, then don't take any information from the passengers lightly, it's your responsibility, Mr. Andrews."

"But this kind of information, uncertain of its truth, will destroy the Titanic, it's a huge scandal, and it's my duty to stop the rumors." Andrew shook his head again, his eyes firm and unyielding.

If it became known that White Star had planned such a plot, then the Titanic would be completely doomed, and even if it didn't sink, it would be about as good as sunk.

It's really suffocating, I'd rather I didn't know anything and ended up following the group to escape, than to struggle here with a head full of future foreknowledge. A kind of fiery anger rushes up from the bottom of my heart, and I heavily lower my head, the nails of my fingers all hardened to the point of whiteness, shockingly white on the blue drawing.

Slowly I clenched up my palms, then pounded them hard into the bottom of the drawing, the five hatches cut by the iceberg, then raised my head and said in a cold voice to Andrew, "I'll let someone you'll trust tell you." After saying that, I pushed my chair straight back and stumbled out the door with staggering, quick steps, opening it just in time to see the waiter Andrew had instructed to push the food cart over to me, and I nearly bumped into him as my vision went black. I could barely make out a poured glass of wine on top, and like a savior I immediately grabbed the goblet, brought it to my lips, and tilted my head back to take a drink. The rush of the liquor numbed me from the tip of my tongue all the way to my throat and finally to my stomach.

It was so hot that it lifted my spirits, and I put the glass back down and tapped the waiter directly on the shoulder to say thank you before walking out quickly. I stride the way I just came, faster and faster, finally picking up my nightgown and running down the hallway. I knew I didn't have much time as soon as the wine was in my mouth, and while the alcohol gave me a momentary rush, my body collapsed faster after the rush was over.

When I finally stumbled to find the luxury suite on the B floor, I almost knocked my head against the white door panel, my fingers shivering to touch the door handle, then leaned against the door with great effort, and when I opened the door, I almost stumbled forward and fell into a dog's s**t, stepped on a chair cushion under my foot, and just stabilized myself when I got to a broken vase.

It took me a while to get a good look at the scene in front of me, and for a moment, I thought I was in the wrong room. Tables and chairs overturned, decorated flowers were trampled to pieces, the whole room seems to have just experienced a magnitude nine earthquake or a super strong hurricane, I also saw Picasso's painting was trampled into several sections ...... Picasso's paintings ah.

Carl sat on the long sofa chair, disheveled, head down, cigarette in hand, his whole person with the collapsed puppet like swallowing clouds.

He looked as if he had lost the most important thing.

I didn't see Lovejoy, it was just me and him. Without even lifting his head, Carl said angrily, "Get out of here, all of you." He was so grumpy he looked like he wanted to kill someone.

I pushed back a chair that had fallen in front of me and took one step toward him, my feet nearly silent on the carpet. Carl didn't even look at me, "I said get out ......" Suddenly he was silent and raised his eyes to me.

"Hi, Carl." Now this scene is actually kind of awkward, I shake my head and feel the lights above my head turn into a kind of lax glow, as if the whole sky is full of stars crashing down on my head. I try hard to remember what I came here for, and Carl has asked in disbelief, "You're back?"

"Uh, back." I instinctively followed his words down the line, then finally remembered what I was going to say and took a step forward with my feet, choking. Dizzy, I looked down at my feet and realized it was the Ocean Star.

"Hmph, regret it?" Carl snaps back, and he takes a hard drag on his cigarette before giving another not-so-successful sneer.

I don't have the energy to argue with him or listen to his triumphant pouting, and sit down with weak legs, picking the Ocean Star up in my hand, the blue diamond pendant shaking badly in front of my eyes. "Do me a favor, will you?"

Carl was habitually mouthy, and before anyone else could finish, he was in taunting mode, "I thought you didn't want anything from me? Now you finally realize you can't get it anywhere else."

I breathed a little heavily, which prevented me from speaking for a moment. Carl, noticing my silence, asked very quickly, "What's the favor?" The attitude was very different from the sarcasm of a moment ago, as if he was worried that I would back out. Of course he realized he was in too much of a hurry after he asked and sat up straight in a hurry, looking at me without expression.