The Dressmaker (3 page)

She held on to the rail, following Lady Duff Gordon down slippery steps to a tender that looked grubby and a bit frail. An officious man in a White Star uniform had told them all that the ship was too large for the shallow Cherbourg harbor, so into the tender they were to go. How big was it, that it had caused another vessel to snap its mooring lines on the way from Southampton? Tess peered into the thin gray fog, eager for her first look.

The fog lifted. And there it was, looming so high, so proud and separate, it seemed to rule the sea, not the other way around. Four huge smokestacks reaching gracefully toward the sky. Nine decks, and Tess felt her neck aching from the effort as she counted them. No wonder it was called
Titanic
. The people scrambling to hook the tender to the ship were all out of proportion, like busy ants.

A sailor reached out a hand to Tess, coaxing her onto the gangplank. She stepped up, concentrating now on putting one foot in front of the other. It was happening—no going back now. Goodbye to Sussex, goodbye to the prune-faced mistress and her randy son, goodbye to all. Even to home, to mother, to the brothers and sisters she might never see again. Her heart quivered; she firmly took the next step.

She was at the top. A couple up ahead, a man with a beautifully sculpted chin and a woman wrapped in a white fur cape, took one step onto the ship and paused to embrace. How nice, how spontaneous. The man—his veined hands showing that he wasn’t as young as he had at first appeared—suddenly twirled the woman in a deft movement that ended in her swooning, laughing, into his arms. The two skipped lightly away to scattered applause. Were they entertainers?

Right in front of her was a man with a handsome, restless face dominated by a strong, molded chin and a slender aquiline nose. His hands were jammed into the pockets of an immaculate tan cashmere coat. His eyes seemed clouded. By unhappiness? His hair was graying at the temples; probably in his forties, she guessed. A man of business, constantly checking his watch. He seemed enveloped in fog, and did not react to the small performance in front of him, just stood a moment watching the happy pair with what she imagined was a certain wistfulness.

“Hurry along, miss.” The man behind her had a hard, impatient voice. A quick glance back; he looked very important.

“Welcome, Mr. Ismay,” said an officer, reaching past her to shake the man’s hand. “It’s an honor to have the chairman of White Star on board. I can promise you a speedy trip to New York.”

Ismay mumbled something; Tess thought he looked like nothing so much as a tall, bony crane. She quickened her step to get out of his way.

Still on the tender, Lucile and Elinor watched the girl ascend. “I don’t think you have servant material there, Lucy,” said Elinor with a chuckle. “She didn’t even wait for the great Lady Duff Gordon to precede her. I love that.”

“I’ll put her to work on hems and buttons. If she doesn’t do a proper job, she’ll be gone the minute we get to New York.”

“You’ve got some ulterior motive—I know you,” Elinor said, giving her sister a brief hug. “Keeps things interesting. I’ll keep writing about illicit passion and you keep designing the clothes a kept woman would wear.”

“Elinor—”

“Oh, I know, they’re for dignified women and stars of all sorts. Wasn’t I good to come out to the ship to see you off?”

“You just wanted to see the
Titanic
up close.” Lucile smiled, returning the hug. She frowned. “You’re much too thin—I can count the bones in your rib cage. You haven’t had any surgically removed, have you?”

“Such nonsense. You know as well as I do that only a few crazy women have done that, and I’m not among them.”

“You aren’t wearing a corset.”

“Well, there you are. I’ve given up whalebone. Good luck in New York, and hurry back.” Elinor’s voice went from gentle to teasing. “Madame.”

“It gives me the proper respect,” Lucile retorted.

“Just don’t start believing it.”

“I suppose.” Slightly abstracted, Lucile gazed up at the hurrying figure of the young housemaid, who was now at the top of the gangplank.

“You’re focusing on that girl, dear. Say goodbye to your loving sister.”

“Oh, hush.” Lucile laughed and planted a bright-red kiss on Elinor’s cheek, then turned to go.

Tess resisted staring too closely at the array of important people moving to their cabins in first class; Mother would be mortified. She had been taught manners, after all. Don’t gape. But oh, what a fantasy this was. Peek sideways at the gloriously attired women—how she wished she could stroke some of the crunchy silks, examine the design of the intricately woven shawls—and at the men in high collars who looked like rulers of the world. Act like this was all nothing new, just life as usual. Pretend to belong.

“Most of the first-class passengers have no reason to be on this particular crossing, other than to be able to boast that they were on the
Titanic
’s maiden voyage,” Madame said as Tess helped her unpack. “But it gives them a lovely little tidbit to drop at a New York dinner.
It hints at a flexible, even adventurous spirit.” She smiled. “As long as the faucets are gold-plated, which they are.”

Tess started to reply, but Lucile’s finger had flown to her lips. “Listen,” she commanded.

And Tess heard for the first time the slow rumble, the vibration, of a great ship’s engines gathering momentum far below where she stood. Could they watch the departure? she asked timidly.

“There’s nothing special about it, I’m afraid.” But Lucile led Tess back outside, where they watched the land recede. One more stop in Ireland, and the
Titanic
’s first voyage out onto the vast sea would truly begin. Madame pointed out a young woman with careful, tiny curls framing her pale skin and a strikingly handsome man attached to her side, the two of them in a seemingly joyful bubble. A couple due soon to be married; a very important society wedding was planned in Newport Beach, she said.

“But then you have people like that,” she said, pointing a delicate finger at a cheerful, round woman waving heartily toward the shore. “Mrs. Brown. Her money comes from a place called Leadville, in Colorado. Gold-mining interests. No breeding.” She peered downward at the sound of shouts and cheers from steerage. “Poor uneducated souls—they’ve sold everything and are heading for what they think are new lives in America. Not likely, unless they learn to wash up.”

Later, when Tess took her satchel down into steerage, hunting for the cot that had been assigned to her, she paused, hunching down under the low ceiling, looking around the crowded room. The air was close—a mixture of smells pungent with garlic, sliced tongue, smoke, and even urine. A man in gray pants was shaving, two children watching him. An old woman with thinning hair sat rocking back and forth, moaning about her stomach. Two boys, tossing a ball to each other. Women gossiping, babies crying. The girl on the cot next to hers gave a friendly smile and offered an apple. All this life, and few would see the upper decks. Nor would those on the upper decks ever see them. But they
were
headed for new lives, just as she was.

She made her way back upstairs as quickly as she could. If she
could, she’d take them all with her, but this was her time now. She would stay down here only to sleep, not one minute more. Only when the voices and sounds of crying children faded into murmurs curling up through the decks and polished brass of this amazing ship did she pause and breathe.

Everything was dazzling. Warming to Tess’s eagerness, Lucile continued the next day to point out quite casually the stellar passengers: here, an owner of a railway; there, an aide to the United States’ President Taft; oh, and there, a famous theatrical producer—she knew them all. Together they strolled among the huge reception rooms, with their elaborately carved chairs, rich mahogany tables, and gilded mirrors, until Lucile announced that she was bored and ready for a nap. No need, then, to iron or clean or run errands? Tess asked quickly if she might wander about a little on her own.

“Go ahead, I’ll be on deck at teatime. Good luck with your exploring; even the ship’s stewards don’t seem to know where everything is.”

Alone now, Tess peeked in the doorway of a large room with mahogany walls and strange machines that looked like mechanical horses. She had heard of them; they were exercise animals, run by electricity. She glanced back and forth. There was no one around. She shouldn’t venture in, but this was all so intriguing. She tiptoed inside, wandering the room, touching the horses sheathed in steel plate, debating whether she had the nerve to pull herself up onto one of them. They looked so shiny and cold. What would it be like? She saw the switches. She could even turn one on if no one was here to see.

Then she saw the camel. A camel! She had always wondered what it would be like to ride one. Cautiously, she hoisted one foot into a stirrup, grabbed her skirt, and pulled herself onto the machine. She reached for the switch, then froze.

“Well, I see you are ready for a little exercise.” It was a man’s voice. “Women are far too shy about using athletic equipment, which is such
nonsense.” She looked up and saw the handsome man with graying hair she had observed on the gangplank. He seemed more energetic now. He was wearing a blue turtleneck sweater, and although he looked less somber, she suspected that the shadows she saw beneath his eyes never disappeared entirely.

“I hope I’m not doing any harm, but I’ve not seen machines like this,” she said, flustered as she realized what a sight she presented. Her legs straddled the contraption like those of a simple trollop. Good Lord, what if Madame wandered in here right now. But she wouldn’t, surely. And the man didn’t seem shocked enough to order her out.

“Nor have most of us,” he said. “Now, take this electric camel you’ve become so fond of. What does it need humps for to store water, with the wonders of electricity? Shall I turn it on?”

Tess stared down at him, saw the amused light in his eyes, and tightened her grip. “All right,” she said a bit breathlessly.

He flicked the switch. Suddenly she was moving back and forth, then up and down, and she couldn’t help laughing at the absurdity of it all as she tightened her legs against the camel’s sleek flanks of polished oak.

“Is it like riding a real horse?”

“Oh no, nothing like it. I love riding at home.”

“That kind of saddle?”

“Bareback. It makes me feel free.” A sudden flash of galloping along the back roads at home made this venture suddenly seem silly. “How is this exercise?”

“Your heart and lungs benefit from the movement—that’s the theory, anyway.”

Someone was sure to come in soon. “Turn it off now,” she said.

“It can go faster. Do you want to go faster?”

“No, no.” She glanced at his face, a little alarmed. “Don’t tease me, please.”

He smiled and turned off the camel, then reached out his arms. “May I help you down?” he asked.

“No, thank you, I can do it myself.” Quickly, before he could say anything more, she slid off the machine, smoothing her skirts.

“You’re totally proper now, don’t worry,” he said. “Would you like a little tour?” He offered his arm quite naturally, as if it were a perfectly ordinary thing to do. His mood had lightened, and it was infectious. How good it felt to laugh. Here was the squash court; do you play? And here the Turkish baths, and over there—he pointed—the fanciest of swimming pools. “A necessity when surrounded by water, wouldn’t you say? Nothing too good for the upper classes.”

“I’ll get there someday,” she burst out.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked with what seemed a hint of true curiosity.

She felt brave enough to give a true answer. “I’ll work hard—it’s easy in America.” Embarrassed now, she glanced at him and then away. “Thank you for this,” she said.

“You’ve done me the courtesy of being here, and I am delighted to be your guide.”

The men she knew never talked that way. “You know I’m not supposed to be here, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen you with Lady Duff Gordon,” he said gently. “I’m an American, from the very brash city of Chicago, and not as respectful of British social niceties as I should be. I enjoyed it.”