Chapter Text
“Can I sit here?”
Teresa looked up and fought not to drop her cup of tea.
It was the prettiest girl she had ever seen.
Flustered, she nodded quickly. “Of course. It’s busy today,” she added, taking note of the full tables around her.
“Thanks.”
The young woman sat down, requesting refreshments from a passing waiter, who assured her he would return shortly.
“I’m Brenda,” she introduced herself as.
Teresa smiled. “Teresa,” she said in turn.
They basked in the sunlight streaming through the large windows, offering them a view out to sea of the starboard side of the ship. Sipping her beverage, Teresa hummed in contentment, the wicker chairs and ivy climbing up the trellis walls reminding her of sitting on a verandah in the French countryside.
“Have you ever been to Paris?” Brenda asked as the waiter delicately placed her drink on the table. “It’s nice this time of year.”
“Last week was my first visit,” Teresa said, turning her attention back to her companion. “It was part of our European tour.” She smiled at the memory of visiting the city’s most famous monument with Thomas, fighting back a laugh at the thought of the number of stairs they had stubbornly climbed to see the view from the second floor - rather than wait for the lift that was briefly out of service. “The Eiffel Tower was beautiful.”
“I gather a lovely young woman like yourself was being chaperoned?” Brenda asked, smiling coyly. “Or, should I say, is still?”
Teresa suddenly fought for composure. She cleared her throat, nodded. “Of course. I’m travelling with my fiancé, Thomas Greene, and his father.”
“Greene?” Brenda’s eyes widened. “As in Janson Greene?”
“The very same,” Teresa told her.
Brenda slowly shook her head. “He’s one of the most influential - one of the richest - men on this ship.”
A wince. “I’m aware.”
“And you’re engaged to his son?”
“Yes.”
But she had paused a second too long.
Brenda frowned, but the expression was gone before Teresa could focus on it. She internally kicked herself, wondering what it was about Brenda that made her suddenly lose all her common sense.
“Yes,” Teresa said again, more confidently. “He asked for my hand in the autumn, and we’ll be wed once we get back to California in a few weeks.”
“How on earth did you manage that?” Brenda asked, almost awed. “I mean … Greene.”
Teresa laughed, whatever tension she had felt vanishing from the air. “I wish I could take more credit. We’ve known each other since childhood.”
“Some people have all the luck,” Brenda grumbled quietly, but her eyes sparkled with barely contained mischief, and Teresa’s smile widened.
o-o-o-o-o
“Teresa, there’s something I have to talk to you about.”
Leaning against the railing, she glanced sideways at Thomas. He had taken her towards the aft end of the promenade where there were lesser numbers of passengers, and it had not escaped her notice.
Teresa reached out, her fingers brushing his own. “Tom, are you okay?” she asked quietly.
Thomas swallowed audibly. “I’ve ... I’ve met someone.”
Something shattered in the air at his words. They both knew they were tied to the engagement whether they liked it or not, and that any romantic endeavours beyond that commitment were futile.
“Oh?” There was a long pause as Teresa collected herself. “Who is she?”
An even longer pause. “He.”
Teresa blinked, confusion momentarily crossing her features.
Oh. Oh!
Her face lit up with a joy that she was unable to contain. “Oh, Thomas!” she gasped, throwing her arms around him. “That is wonderful!”
Thomas cleared his throat as she stepped back. “Teresa ...”
“Oh, my goodness.” What was she doing? What was she saying? Teresa grabbed his hands, squeezing tight. “Thomas, are you okay?”
Thomas looked taken aback by the question, surprised and gratified all at once. He was silent for a long moment. “I’ve never met anyone like him before,” he confessed. “I didn’t even know I liked ... I liked ...” He glanced anxiously over his shoulder, “I liked boys.”
His cheeks flushed with visible shame, and Teresa’s heart wrenched. In a world dictated by societal expectations, she knew what it felt like to keep a part of herself hidden away in the deepest, darkest parts of her soul so that no one could see.
Not even her best friend.
“I mean, I barely know him,” Thomas muttered. “I didn’t even know he existed until two days ago, but it’s - I - he’s like a magnet, Tess. I can’t stay away ... and I’m not sure I want to.”
His eyes glazed over for a moment. Smiling softly, Teresa wondered where he had gone; wondered just who this boy was that had captured Thomas’s heart so quickly. “Tom, listen to me,” she said, gazing at him with a heartbreakingly kind expression. “This is the ship of dreams. Believe in the magic of it, even for just a few days.”
Thomas … he needed to see the wonder of life again. If this was the only freedom she was able to offer him before their wedding, for him to let loose and truly be himself for once, then she was more than happy to take a step back. America was going to be a fresh start for many of the passengers aboard the vessel; why not start now? Why not him?
“What about you?” Thomas asked quietly, his smile fading.
Teresa gave a small, indifferent shrug, her thoughts inexplicably drifting to Brenda. “We’ll keep up the pretence,” she told him, “and if you decide you still want to be with him by the time we get off this ship, then we’ll figure something out.” Squeezing his hands, she smiled warmly, her eyes shining. “You deserve to be happy.”
Thomas pressed a kiss to her cheek in gratitude. “As do you.”
o-o-o-o-o
Another knock, quickly followed by another.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Teresa murmured, placing her book on a side table and hurrying to open the door.
It was Thomas, standing in the hallway with a young, blond haired man hovering anxiously behind him.
Teresa’s face lit up with delight. “Come in, come in!” she cried, ushering them through the entranceway and firmly closing the door behind them - but not before checking the coast was clear.
“You didn’t answer your stateroom door,” Thomas explained as she turned her attention back to him. “I wondered if you were here.”
His attention, meanwhile, was noticeably wandering.
Even as Teresa watched, he clearly found it hard to tear his eyes away from his new friend, who was gazing around their sitting room in awe, taking in every detail with keen, shining eyes.
Clearing her throat, Teresa shook her head. “I’ve been reading my book out on the deck,” she informed him, gesturing to the copy of Peter and Wendy she had set down. “I found it a little too cold upstairs in the open today.”
Instead of taking the lead as she usually did, she waited for Thomas to feel comfortable enough to introduce his friend.
“Fair enough,” Thomas said with an earnest smile - so bright that Teresa was momentarily surprised, and very pleased. He gestured to Newt. “Teresa, meet Newt. Newt, Teresa.”
o-o-o-o-o
“My, my, Teresa, isn’t your fiancé dashing!”
“Brenda!” Teresa greeted happily as she swung into view in a dazzling silver dress, her dark hair twisted up in a swathe of crystals and her eyes gleaming.
The sight of her tore Teresa’s breath away. She looked beautiful.
Suddenly remembering her manners - and the company she kept - Teresa cleared her throat. “Thomas, this is Brenda,” she introduced. “We became acquainted at lunch yesterday.”
Thomas took Brenda’s hand and kissed it, Newt repeating the gesture a moment later. Teresa found herself once again impressed by his determination to play his part, right down to upholding their first class gestures.
“I appreciate the assistance you’ve given us today,” Thomas said earnestly. “Thank you.”
“In all honesty, I could do with a bit of entertainment,” Brenda said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced at Teresa. “These dinners do tend to drag on, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Wholeheartedly,” Thomas chuckled.
“Thomas!” Janson called.
Teresa fought not to roll her eyes as Thomas smiled winningly. “Coming, Father!” he replied, taking Teresa’s arm again as Newt took Brenda’s.
They descended through the levels of the ship amidst the other splendidly dressed passengers, the air rife with chatter and laughter. Teresa glanced sideways, and the visible awe on Newt’s face was so precious, so endearing as he chatted enthusiastically to Brenda, that her heart melted. She doubted he had ever seen anything like this before.
There was a certain magic to the dining room as the four of them waltzed in, the crystal chandeliers shining over their heads and the tables around them laden with gleaming silverware. It was the first dinner that Teresa had seen Thomas truly looking delighted to attend. His eyes shone as he looked about, a bright, genuine smile on his face as he greeted fellow passengers and chatted to them in passing.
It did not escape her notice that, despite the beauty of the ship around them, his gaze kept helplessly drifting to Newt.
“I’ll meet you at the table,” Brenda said, winking at them before disappearing into the throng of finery.
The whole time, Teresa watched her go.
o-o-o-o-o
“Teresa here was admiring the craftsmanship of your vessel earlier,” Janson said to Andrews conversationally. “Most notably the woodwork.”
Andrews smiled at Teresa. “Thank you, Miss Agnes. She is, undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful ships I have ever had the pleasure of working on.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” Teresa said. “What’s your favourite area? Although, I suppose you have many,” she added with a smile.
“You’re quite right,” Mr Andrews chuckled. “It’s hard for me to say -”
Beside Teresa, Thomas gave an undignified snort of laughter. Janson threw him a disgusted look, and he rapidly cleared his throat, looking apologetic.
“I’m sorry, you were saying?” Teresa pressed, fighting not to laugh so she could continue her conversation with Thomas Andrews.
“Ah, the Millionaires’ Suite, of course -”
“I’ll let you know if you start sprouting feathers,” Teresa heard Thomas mutter to Newt, and just about lost her composure all over again. It was suddenly painfully clear how desperately Thomas needed a friend like Newt in his life.
Brenda flashed her a grin, and Teresa ducked her head, feeling her cheeks heating up.
She had never before been so eager for a meal to end.
o-o-o-o-o
“Newton, would you care to join us?” Janson asked.
Far more politely than Teresa could have managed, Newt smiled. “I appreciate the offer, sir, but I fear I must retire shortly,” he declined. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Greene.”
Janson smiled back, shaking his hand. “The pleasure’s mine.”
“Your son is wonderful company, truly,” Newt complimented, and Teresa fought back a smile as Thomas ducked his head, his face flushing. “I hope to spend more time with him - that is, if Miss Agnes agrees.”
“Certainly.” As Janson nodded courteously, Teresa seethed internally. Where Newt sounded genuinely respectful, Janson had a way of making people feel like property that he was gracious for lending. “We will see you around, I’m sure.”
With that, Janson departed, and Teresa could feel Thomas relaxing beside her. She smiled at him, just as relieved. “You did wonderfully,” she assured him. He gave her a weak grin in return.
Clearing his throat, Newt clapped Thomas on the shoulder. “We’re going to take a stroll upstairs,” he announced.
Thomas frowned. “We are?”
Teresa’s eyes suddenly twinkled, a borderline mischievous smile gracing her features at the thought of what lay ahead of the two of them that night. “Have fun,” she said, the hint of a tease to her words.
She couldn’t decide if Thomas looked more suspicious or resigned at the admission that they had planned behind his back. When Brenda winked at him, emphasising her own involvement, the hint of a smile tugged at Thomas’s mouth.
Newt beamed. “Of course.” He bowed and gently took Teresa’s hand, pressing a chaste kiss to her skin. “Miss Agnes, until we meet again.”
She smiled at him. “You’re welcome here any time,” she said earnestly. “It was a joy to have you here tonight.”
Newt laughed. “Once was quite enough, but I appreciate the invitation. I won’t fit my bloody trousers at this rate.”
It took all of Teresa’s willpower not to burst out laughing. “Good night, Newton.”
As Newt said his farewells to Brenda, Thomas leaned close to Teresa. “Do you want me to escort you back to your stateroom?” he asked; they both knew the question was expected of them.
Teresa shook her head firmly. “I’ll be here a long while.” She kissed his cheek lightly, the glint still in her eyes. “Enjoy the party.”
Before he could ask her anything, Teresa quickly turned to Brenda - who had just settled into the empty seat beside her - and began chatting animatedly about how wonderful the dinner had been. Catching on, Brenda joined in with equal enthusiasm, and their ploy worked; a few moments later, Thomas and Newt departed the dining area side by side.
Brenda laughed, gazing after them. “He doesn’t know what he’s in for.”
“No,” Teresa agreed, smiling. “But it’ll be good for him.”
“From what you’ve told me, I couldn’t agree more.”
Their conversation fell into a natural pattern again. The minutes passed as effortlessly as their words, and the number of passengers in the dining room steadily began to dwindle.
Suddenly, Brenda raised her eyebrows at Teresa. “Should we go, too?”
“Where?” Teresa asked, trying not to sound too eager.
But Brenda seemed to see right through her, for she laughed. “Anywhere!” she exclaimed. She rose from her chair, reaching for Teresa’s wrist. “We’ll decide on the way. Come on!”
o-o-o-o-o
Here, beneath the lamplights, Titanic’s seemingly endless supply of sparkling beverages made the world shine and sparkle, Teresa and Brenda’s laughter rising into the night with their spirits.
They had moved closer with every joke, every giggle, falling over one another until, until -
Teresa’s mirth faded, realising just how near to one another they were. The air seemed to crackle, humming with an energy that seemed to be inside her and all around her at once.
Her own smile falling away to be replaced by a softer, more careful expression, Brenda stared at her. Her hand shaking, she slowly reached up and cupped Teresa’s jaw, the touch gentle, featherlight.
Teresa suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Is this okay?” Brenda asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
She was so close, so close that Teresa could make out every freckle, every eyelash; could stare endlessly into the dark brown of her eyes and become lost in their depths. Her heart thrashed against her ribcage, trapped within the confines of her corset.
Her eyes darted down, to the perfect line of makeup across Brenda’s lips. She was suddenly overtaken by the desire to move closer, to close the distance; to kiss her so hard her real blush blossomed through the colours across her cheeks.
Finally, she began to nod - but quickly stopped. “I wish I was braver,” she finally whispered, her words tinged with desperation; with years of repressed emotions she had never allowed herself to indulge in.
Her thumb tenderly brushing Teresa’s cheek, Brenda smiled gently. “Can I be brave for you?”
She was so agonisingly close now. Swallowing audibly, Teresa nodded, and Brenda leaned in.
A moment later, their lips met.
It was so incredibly soft and gentle that Teresa barely felt it for a moment, the barest of pressures, Brenda testing the waters; giving her space, giving her time.
Her walls suddenly crumbling, turning to dust at Brenda’s touch, smell, taste, Teresa found herself pushing back.
Brenda made a surprised noise in the back of her throat and suddenly held on tighter, her other hand lifting to hold the other side of Teresa’s face, drawing her in. Teresa’s hand moved on instinct, tentatively drifting down Brenda side, over the beads of her gorgeous silver dress that still shimmered in the lamplight, suddenly drunk beyond the champagne, beyond whatever made sense, on the sudden elation and terror of this, this -
A clock struck the hour.
Teresa abruptly came back to the present, to Brenda’s hands on her cheeks, to her stifling corset, to the distant strains of orchestral music drifting through the hallways. She pulled away, suddenly fighting to breathe. “I need some air.”
“Teresa,” Brenda began.
But she was already moving across the room to the porthole. Teresa opened it with deft fingers and inhaled the ocean air as it swept through the window. She closed her eyes, calming herself.
Brenda rose to her feet, coming to stand at her side a moment later. Teresa could feel the crackle of energy between them; like lightning, like electricity.
“Hey,” Brenda soothed, gently curling her fingers around Teresa’s. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Trust me.”
Finally, Teresa looked at her. “I wish I was braver,” she said again.
Brenda peered at her, her expression so utterly gentle that Teresa was stunned for a moment. “How long has it been?”
“Since what?”
“Since you had this,” Brenda asked.
A long pause. “Never,” Teresa said shakily. “I … never.”