THE SILENCE
Chapter Two
Fabrizio led the way back towards the hall,
Jack rambling behind him in a world of his own, his hands in his pockets. They
passed a steward and Jack looked up at him, still wide eyed with fear. The
steward carried on walking not taking any notice of Jack who stood and leaned
on the wall. Fabri stopped and went back to Jack who was still staring down the
corridor at the departing steward. Fabri grabbed him and shook him again
violently.
In a low voice he whispered harshly.
"You carry on behaving like that Jack
and someone will think there is a something wrong eh?"
"Ok," Jack held up his hands and
they made their way to the hall.
Tommy eyed them up as they came over,
slightly curious as to Jack's urgency.
"So you sorted yourself out?" he
asked, drawing on a cigarette.
"He 'as the seasickness," replied
Fabri weakly as the two of them watched Jack down a pint of beer in one.
"Well if you're feelin' sick I don't
think you should be downing that stuff so quick." Tommy looked on as Jack
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I'll get some more beer," Fabri
volunteered and went off to the bar.
"If you feel ill you should go up on
deck and get some air," Tommy advised.
"I'm fine here," Jack gritted his
teeth and looked round at everyone, drinking, laughing, talking. All oblivious
to the sounds of Jack's world crashing down around him. He wished he'd never
won the blasted hand of poker now. He would be blissfully at peace with himself
in England.
Fabri came back and thrust another glass of
beer into Jack's hand and gave him 'the look'. Jack nodded grimly and took a
swallow. Fabri waved to the blonde girl again and got her attention. Tommy got
involved a loud arm wrestling match. Jack just watched.
A little girl, who had taken to Jack, came
over. She tugged his sleeve and brought him back to the present.
"Hi Cora," he tried to smile.
"I have to go to bed soon. Can I have
another dance?" she pleaded with her big doe eyes.
"I don't feel much like dancing now, but
maybe tomorrow?" He winced at the look of disappointment on her face.
"You can still be my best girl."
This seemed to pacify her and with a beaming
smile and a good night she ran to find her father. The crowd was thinning out
now as people made their way back to their cabins. Jack had seen his two
Swedish roommates stagger off about 15 minutes ago. Fabri was trying to say
goodbye to the blonde girl. Her family were going and her father didn't relish
the idea of leaving her alone with the dark haired man who spoke no Norwegian.
This was a good time to escape.
Fabri came back grinning from ear to ear. But
Jack didn't even ask.
"I'm turning in. You coming?"
They walked back to the cabin in silence both
lost in their own thoughts. The Swedes were in bed and the room in darkness, so
Jack just threw himself on the bunk. He feared sleep would elude him as he
wrestled with his conscience, but he was surprised. He soon fell asleep.
However, the dreams were not so kind to him.
The scene was replayed over and over again but with a grotesque twist. People
were pointing at him, accusing him of murder. The girl was screaming at him
'you didn't help me Jack Dawson.'
He awoke in a cold sweat despite his clothes.
For one absurd moment, he saw a white figure beside him and thinking it was a
ghost, yelped.
"Jack," it said. Ghosts don't have
Italian accents he reckoned. He then realized it was Fabri.
"Are you trying to wake up the whole
ship?" his friend asked. He could hear the Swedes mumbling in their native
tongue. He must have cried out.
"Sorry," Jack sat up. It was still
too early to be getting out of bed.
"Go back to sleep," muttered Fabri
climbing up into his bunk. But this time Jack couldn't. Grabbing his jacket
from the floor where he'd left it, he decided to go up on deck.
As he stepped onto the deck, he was surprised
to see people out at this time. He then realized the people had stewards
uniforms on under their topcoats. It didn't take a genius to work out what they
were doing. Jack groaned inwardly. The stewards were searching the deck. He lit
a cigarette and leaned on the rail. Two of the men approached him and cordially
greeted him.
"Cold out tonight, well, this morning,"
Jack replied.
"Excuse me for asking but are looking
for a missing first passenger, a Miss Rose Dewitt Bukater. She was last seen
wearing a red and black evening gown and has distinctive red hair. You wouldn't
have seen or heard anything of her?"
Jack drew on his cigarette and looked at the
steward.
"Not around here," replied
truthfully. Sometimes playing poker came in handy.
"Please let us know if you do. Good
morning." And they left.
Jack leaned over the rail and stared at the
water. It seemed kind of final now. He couldn't say anything about the girl now
or they would be suspicious as to why he kept his silence. But at least he
could put a name to the girl. Rose. That was a pretty name. What was the rest?
Duit something or other. She would have had to have written that down for him,
being such a mouthful. He sighed. Morning was close; streaks of color and light
were tearing across the sky. It was the dawn of a new day. Jack closed his
eyes; the rhythm of the boat was lulling him back to sleep standing up.
The sound of male voices snapped him back to
reality. They were approaching. For some reason Jack couldn't explain, he
didn't want to face or speak to anyone. He quickly moved to the shadows behind
a large ventilation pipe that came out of the deck. He squeezed himself behind
it, wishing he were invisible.
The voices came louder and clearer. Jack
peered out and was amazed to see the Captain himself, a couple of officers and
two men in suits. He recognized the Captain from his white beard but hadn't a
clue as to who everyone else was. He listened as they approached.
"I am doing everything possible Mr.
Hockley, I can assure you. The ship is turning round now, but without the
benefit of full daylight, the lookouts will have a difficult job."
"So you are still following that
theory," the dark haired man in a suit snapped agitatedly.
"Your fiancée is missing Mr. Hockley. I
do not have any theories as to why. Unless you do."
"Dammit Captain, I want every inch of
this ship searched, from the kitchen to the coal bunkers to -to- here."
The man who appeared to be Mr. Hockley spluttered, unable to bring himself to
say third class.
"Some Russian iterant or such the like
may have kidnapped Miss Dewitt Bukater in an attempt to extort money from
myself."
"I think that highly unlikely Mr.
Hockley, but the stewards have been and are continuing to search this ship from
top to bottom."
"I should hope they are. You are in
charge of this ship Captain Smith and if anything should happen to Rose I will
hold you and the White Star Line responsible. Indeed I will be having words
with Mr. Ismay as soon as…" The voices trailed away and Jack felt safe to
emerge.
He watched as the figures disappeared. What a
bastard that Hockley guy is, I think I'd top myself if I were engaged to him,
Jack thought. Then realizing the enormity of what he had said felt very, very,
remorseful. I am sorry, Rose, he said to himself looking at the sky.
Jack made his way back to his cabin and crept
in. Just maybe I can get some sleep he told himself and closed his eyes.