Another Survivor

“Well? How was your evening last night? Did you enjoy the food?”
The clanking of silverware and dishes in the dining lounge mingled with Jonathan’s quiet tone, making Carrie have to lean forward to hear him clearly. “It was delicious,” she said, knowing that was likely not what he was fishing for. After he’d returned from the First Class Dining Lounge the night before, Carrie hadn’t stuck around long. She’d known Robert had been about to kiss her but had stopped when Jonathan interrupted. While the liegeman didn’t seem to catch on right away, he was an intelligent fellow and had realized his faux pas pretty quickly, though he hadn’t said anything.
“That’s good to know. And the company?” He took a bite of his chicken and waited patiently as Carrie felt her face flushing red.
“Robert is very kind. He’s polite. The perfect gentleman.” She lifted her glass to her lips and slowly took a sip of water.
A smirk pulled up one side of Jonathan’s face. “Oh? Was he being a perfect gentleman when I walked in last night?”
Under the table, Carrie kicked Jonathan in the shin, not hard enough to hurt him. He laughed in response. “Stop. Don’t tell me you’ve never kissed a woman on a date before.” Jonathan arched an eyebrow and opened his mouth to correct her. “A person–rather.” She rolled her eyes. “Have you ever… dated a woman?” Her question was a whisper so that no one would overhear. The dining area for breakfast and lunch was come and go and could get rather crowded sometimes, depending upon the time of day. Right now, the crowd was dense enough that most of the tables around them were occupied.
“I have,” Jonathan confirmed. “And I believe you are changing the subject.”
Carrie’s mouth fell open as she considered arguing with him, but she couldn’t, so she lifted her glass again.
“Thirsty?” He chuckled under his breath.
“I am thirsty, thank you very much.” She shook her head and set her glass aside. “Listen, Robert and I have known each other for years. It’s not as if we are mere strangers.”
“I know that.” He took another bite, unbothered by the distress he was causing her.
“And he was a perfect gentleman.”
“I’m sure he was. I wouldn’t have left you alone with him if I had any doubts.”
“Well… I’m not your charge, you know.” Carrie cut into her own meal, not even paying close enough attention to remember if she’d gotten the chicken or beef dish until she tasted the latter on her tongue. She chewed with a purpose. “You’re here to keep me safe, not to help me make choices regarding my virtue.”
Jonathan made a gesture with his head that was a mix between nodding in agreement and shaking it in difference. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything compromising with a man you’ll likely never see again.”
“But you said yourself you thought Mr. Ashton could get him a job,” she reminded him.
“True. Would that make it better or worse, though? If something happened between the pair of you that meant more to you than it did to him, and then you were faced with seeing him every few days?”
Carrie took a moment to dwell on those options before replying. “I rarely see the gentlemen that work for Mr. Ashton, other than yourself and Mr. O’Connell,” she reminded him. The rest of the foremen and men who worked in the factory didn’t ever come to the house.
“Still, Carrie, would you want to put yourself in that situation? Where you put yourself out there for someone who thinks that it’s just a fun time for both of you?” Jonathan’s eyes were full of sincerity and care for her.
“No, of course not.” She didn’t bother to tell him she’d done that before. It wasn’t his business. “I do think there’s a chance that Robert does truly care about me, though.”
He nodded. “I think he might as well, but I would suggest you make sure before you leap without looking.”
Before Carrie could say anything else, a young woman perhaps a bit older than her stopped next to their table, carrying a full tray of food. “I do beg your pardon,” she said, “but all the tables are full. Would it be possible for me to join you?”
Jonathan lifted his head, and his eyebrows nearly touched one another. “Of course, you can. But… you look very familiar to me.”
She set her tray down, and Jonathan, always the gentleman, pulled her chair out for her. “I thought you looked familiar as well. I’m Vivian Jenson.”
Jonathan reclaimed his seat. “Yes, of course. I recognize you from the papers. I don’t believe we ever met. Jonathan Lane.” He offered her hand, and she took it.
Carrie watched, not sure how they knew one another until Vivian said, “Yes–you were with the Ashtons.”
“I was traveling with them. I got off with Mrs. Ashton’s lady’s maid. She was, of course, Ms. Westmoreland at the time. What lifeboat were you in?” Jonathan asked.
“Sixteen,” Ms. Jenson replied. Carrie noted both of them had a hazy look in their eyes. They had to be talking about Titanic, of course. It was more than she’d heard Jonathan say about it in quite some time.
“Ah, one of the first to leave the port side.” Jonathan suddenly seemed as if he were reminiscing about something that happened when he was in grade school, a game of some sort, in Carrie’s opinion, and it was fascinating to listen to the two of them chat about their experience without touching on anything too traumatic for either of them.
“That’s right. We were out there for quite some time. Took forever for all the port boats to get to Carpathia.” Vivian swallowed hard enough for Carrie to see her throat moving. “I don’t generally talk about the events of that night.” She straightened the tight white lace around her throat.
“Neither do I,” Jonathan admitted. “Though from time to time, it is nice to meet a kindred spirit so we can remind one another that we survived.”
Noting the gleam in his eyes Jonathan often got when he spoke of how lucky he had been to make it into a lifeboat when so many others hadn’t, Carrie began to fidget with her napkin. She had so many questions she wished she had the opportunity to ask anyone who actually was willing to talk about what had happened, but no one she knew who’d been aboard ever liked to speak of it.
For a moment, she imagined what it would be like to float along inside a crowded lifeboat out in the open sea, at night, with no moon. It had to have been terrifying and invigorating at the same time. Of course, the others in the lifeboat might’ve been missing loved ones, praying for their spouses, etc. Carrie didn’t have anyone like that in her life–a husband or children, so if she’d been in the boat, it would’ve been her friends she would’ve been praying for.
“Carrie?” Jonathan said her name in a manner that made her think it wasn’t the first time he’d spoken. “Vivian just asked if we were planning to attend the Gretchen Flynn concert this evening.”
“Oh?” Carrie felt her face flush as she realized she’d been paying absolutely no attention whatsoever to their conversation once the topic left Titanic. “I didn’t realize there was a concert aboard the ship.”
“Yes, Ms. Flynn is quite an accomplished singer, and she’ll be gracing us with a performance this evening. I am hoping my husband is up and about and able to attend. He hasn’t been feeling well. I think it’s seasickness. Ever since Titanic….” Her voice trailed off, and Carrie let it go. She had wondered if the woman’s husband was also a survivor, and now she knew. How remarkable that they had both made it out of the situation alive.
“I’m sorry to hear he’s not feeling well.” Carrie took another bite of her beef and swallowed it before saying, “I think a concert sounds lovely. What do you think?”
“I think… it would be a lovely way to spend an evening.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile that made her think he was implying that perhaps she should attend the concert with someone else. Either that, or Carrie was simply getting away with herself. Thoughts of spending an evening with Robert sent a tingle up her spine and had her stomach tightening in knots. It would be so lovely to listen to some beautiful music while sitting right next to him. She wondered if he was the type of gentleman who might let a tear or two roll down his cheeks when a particularly moving melody hit him just right.
Realizing she was lost in a daydream again, she forced herself to tune into the conversation around her. Now, they were discussing other concerts each of them had attended in New York City, London, even Paris. Carrie was surprised to hear Jonathan had seen some of the most famous performers in the world perform at the most expensive venues. She wanted to ask if he’d always been there to accompany Mr. Ashton, but it didn’t seem her place. If Mrs. Jenson was aware that they were both actually servants to wealthy people, she didn’t let on. She treated them with the same sort of respect anyone else in First Class might deserve.
“What about you, Mrs. Lane?” Mrs. Jenson asked after a few minutes of just Jonathan sharing his favorite concert memories. “What’s your favorite place to listen to music?”
“Oh, we’re not–” Carrie looked at Jonathan and made an awkward motion. “We’re just friends.” She realized then she hadn’t properly introduced herself. Offering her hand, she said, “Carrie Boxhall.”
“I beg your pardon.” Vivian’s cheeks turned a little red. “I suppose I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”
“It’s no trouble,” Jonathan assured her. “We’re traveling together to retrieve some items for Mrs. Ashton, whom you might know is about to have her second baby.”
“I had read about that in the papers,” Mrs. Jenson said with a nod.
Carrie jumped in to answer the question. “I haven’t actually ever been to a concert before, other than just little bands around my small hometown growing up that used to play at fairs and the like. I’ve heard some street musicians before in New York, of course, and marching bands in a parade. But… this will be my first concert.”
Vivian’s face lit up. “Well, then you should make the most of it. Gretchen Flynn is delightful. It’s a night I’m sure you’ll never forget.” She stood, gathering up her dishes. “It was a pleasure chatting with both of you. Take care.”
With that, she stood and disappeared into the crowded room, and Carrie found herself letting out a deep breath.
“Is anything the matter?” Jonathan asked her. “It’s not because she thought we were married?”
Laughing, Carrie patted his arm. “No, of course not. I could do worse, I tell you.” That got a chuckle out of him. “I was just thinking perhaps she’s right. Tonight could be a special evening.”
With a knowing smile, Jonathan chuckled and said, “I’m sure I have no idea what’s up your sleeve, Carrie Boxhall.”
They gathered their belongings. “I’m sure you do.”