James turned to leave. While crossing the room, the ship suddenly lurched, and he stumbled forward a half step. Following the lurch was a slight rolling noise, and James froze while he listened to it. Someone nearby called to him the moment the odd sound ceased.
“Excuse me, sir, what was that?” the man asked.
James only shook his head. He did not know.
Shrugging, the man resumed his conversation with the fellow beside him. Across the room, a group of three gentlemen stood and started for one of the exits, leaving the remainder of their beverages as well as their playing cards behind. When they passed by, James heard one of them saying something about investigating the source of the noise. James considered joining them but quickly decided against it. He was supposed to be working.
Pushing past his unease, James walked over to one of the other passengers as the man finished his brandy, and he took the man’s empty snifter from him. Slowly, over the next little while, James’s concern waned, though the feeling of unease remained. Thankfully, though, James managed to make it through the rest of his shift. Even though a few first-class passengers were still finishing up their conversations, card games, and beverages at midnight, most had retired to their staterooms for the evening, and so, James was relieved from his post.
DescendingTitanic’s beautiful aft Grand Staircase, James lingered on each and every step, his legs moving languidly as though pushing through honey. He kept his hand on the banister, focusing on the smoothness of the lacquered wood, and he wondered whether his sense of unease was intending to warn him that Cassian might break his heart right that very night.
When James reached the landing for B-Deck, he stopped. Rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, he leaned against the banister and let the memories of his time with Cassian in his stateroom overtake him. A swell of emotions filled up his chest as images of their bedroom escapades flitted through his mind like pictures from a flicker book. How he missed Cassian already. What he wouldn’t give to relive those moments in Cassian’s stateroom, even if only for a little while.
James was still fixed to the same spot next to the banister when another steward came bounding down the stairs.
“You there,” the man said to James. “Are you the cabin steward for this floor?”
“Me? No, I’m one of the saloon stewards,” James replied.
“Alright, well, when you see the cabin steward for this cluster of staterooms here on B-Deck, I need you to tell him that we’ve been asked to rouse the passengers. We must instruct them to put on their lifebelts and ask that they come to the boat deck,” he said. “I’ll continue to the lower decks and relay the instructions there.”
“Oh. Uhm. Actually, I was en route back to my room on Scotland Road, so—”
“Please,” the man said, his eyebrows pinching.
There looked to be a sense of urgency in the man’s eyes, one that made James’s stomach roil. He somehow knew that he ought to comply, and so he responded with a single nod. Immediately, the man started to leave, but, after only a flicker of hesitation, James caught his arm, stopping him.
“Why do we need the lifebelts?” James asked.
The man wet his lips. “It’s... only a precaution.”
As the man began to pull away, James clutched his sleeve tighter.
“Truly?” James asked.
There was a pause.
“Yes,” the man said. “Truly.”
James released him. Listening to the man’s fast footsteps on the next set of stairs, James shuddered, a shiver of unease rolling up his spine. He remained frozen for what felt like minutes while his mind worked furiously to comprehendwhythey might need their lifebelts.
Could it be that the ship was in peril? James looked around. Everything was so calm, so normal. Nearby, first-class passengers were asleep in their rooms. Only minutes before, he’d been serving wine and hard liquor and cocktails to a room of card-playing men who had been wearing some of their finest clothes. It was completely unfathomable that the ship—
All of a sudden, James found himself reliving that moment in the Smoking Room, shortly before midnight. Right after it had happened, James had thought that maybe the slight lurch he’d felt and the subsequent sound had been the result of a mechanical error. Something minor with the ship’s machinery. Or even that the whole thing had been caused by the ship moving over rough waters.
But maybe something else had happened.
Heart hammering, James hurried toward the staterooms. In the corridor, he spotted the cabin steward whom he had paid for the coffee what felt like forever ago now.
“Sir!” James called out. “I received instructions from someone—probably a cabin steward for one of the other portions of the ship—saying that we need to rouse the passengers and ask them to put on their lifebelts.”
“Lifebelts?” the man balked.
“Yes, lifebelts,” James confirmed. “Afterward, passengers should make their way up to the boat deck.”
“What—”
“I’m not sure,” James said.
