The Stars in April by Peggy Wirgau

Author:Peggy Wirgau
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781645263074
Publisher: Illuminate YA
Published: 2021-03-25T15:10:04.640581+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

RMS Titanic, Southampton, England

Wednesday, April 10, 1912

11:40 a.m.

I led Marion back up to Deck C. We took a passageway toward the bow, climbed another set of stairs, and exited the stairway on Deck B, also known as the Bridge Deck. A sign that read Café Parisien pointed starboard.

A crewman stopped us. “Children, after we launch, this section will be for first class only.”

“We’ll remember.” I tugged Marion’s hand and hurried past him. Mother hadn’t mentioned sticking to the second-class areas, and why should we see only part of the Titanic? I was determined to see everything, even if it took the whole voyage.

Passengers stood three or four deep along the railings, waving handkerchiefs and calling to the well-wishers who lined the docks. Papa’s handkerchief nestled safely in my coat pocket, but I wouldn’t risk letting it go.

I pushed Marion ahead, squeezing us between an older couple and a family that had a girl about my age. The girl wore a long coat that matched the sky, with an ink-black fur collar and cuffs.

She sized me up. “Are you in first class?”

What was it about first class? Things weren’t this regimented on the City of Benares.

I looked around with authority, like I was supposed to be there. “This is Deck B, isn’t it?”

Her glance swept the ceiling. “Of course it is.”

“Then yes, I am.” I pointed to the joyous crowd. “Look, Marion. They’re all waving to us.”

We waved and hollered to the hundreds remaining on land. Calls of “good-bye” in various languages rang out. Camera bulbs flashed, and I marveled that I was on the Titanic, waving to reporters. I could end up in a newspaper photo!

Bells clanged, and a few visitors rushed back to shore via the gangways. Hatchways were shut. Then three whistle blasts sounded, loud and long, making Marion and me jump and cover our ears. The deep vibration of the engines worked its way up through the deck, and tugboats towed our great ship away from the pier. Marion stomped her feet and laughed as the Titanic began to move.

The crowd on the dock grew quiet. I looked across the harbor to see what had them so concerned.

The ropes holding the stern of the New York had snapped, allowing the ship to swing out toward the Titanic. Passengers near me gasped, and I leaned over the railing to see the two ships miss each other by no more than a few feet.

“That was close,” the older man next to us said to his wife. “We almost had a collision.”

She clutched the handkerchief she’d been waving to her chest. “That is not good, Isidor.”

It took some time for the tugs to get us underway again, and people grumbled that we were already off schedule. But soon we were coasting along through Southampton harbor, passing the same buildings and factories we had seen the week before. They appeared smaller now from my higher vantage point.

Two decks below, a girl stretched her arms along the railing. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a kerchief, and her dark dress hung unevenly below her tattered coat.

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