Chapter Text
Chapter 1 - It's been 84 years.
The TV was on, but she didn’t care for it, she had no wishes to watch a new documentary about old things. She was with her granddaughter in the kitchen, they were cooking, a thing between them. “Granny, you seem far, what are you thinking?”. The old woman turned for her grandchildren, blue eyes looking, but not seeing, her mind was in another time. “Oh, nothing my dear, is just the Tv noise, confusing my thoughts.” As a reflex both of them looked for the object, the credits of a show were rolling.
“Do you want me to turn it off?”. The lady was going to answer, but something got her attention again, a drawing. “Actually, my lovely child, could you turn up the volume?” “Yeah, Granny.”
The youngest turned the TV louder… “We have found pieces of the Titanic, after so many years, we could finally reach the ship at the bottom of the Ocean. Please camera come closer. We found this beautiful drawing, saved from the time and the salt, in a safe box…” The woman stopped paying attention in the speech, but she had all her focus on the drawing. “It’s not possible, it’s not possible…” She talked to herself, suddenly the air changed, her heartbeats were so loud, she was certain that her grandchildren could hear.
“My lovely child, could you please do your old grandmother a favor ?”
“Of course, just tell me…”
“Dear, I have to talk to this man, please…”
“But why?”
“You know how much I love to tell you things, but this one, this particular one, I can’t now. Do you trust me?”
“Granny, I trust you with my life. I saw a number on the screen, I will catch the phone.”
True to her word, her granddaughter got the phone and called the number on the TV.
“Hello, I can tell you how is the woman in the drawing.”
“Who is she then?”
"I am her."
She was old, but she never forgot about that day, a moment wrapped in happiness, unforgettable happiness. They talked some more, and they had agreed to visit, she would finally see her drawing again. Tears were falling in her cheeks, her heart might have failed a beat... “My love…”
Lucy Grantaire Babet was an old woman, her body was frail, hair once blond now white, skin thin and translucent, her mind sometimes would slip, but she was there living, breathing and dreaming. An endless dream, full of passion and happiness. Dreaming about shared secrets, kisses and tears, with her eyes closed, she could feel all of this again. How could love struck you so hard, leaving you shaken for the rest of your life? How could be so intense and sadly fast? Every time she rested her head on the pillow, she could hear, heartbeats and then the tears would fall. Memories were a blessing and a curse. However, they are all kept in secret and now Lucy would tell, all of this, for unknown people. Praying that her heart did not fail her now. A sigh came from the bottom of the soul, shaken her body with its strength. The voice of her grandchild took her out of a daydream.
“Granny, let’s go, we are here. I bet you’re tired.”
“Oh darling, you look exactly like your mother… Stop worrying, I am not tired! I just want to see my drawing.”
“Ok, Granny. Will we do as you like.”
Both of them were escorted out of the helicopter, Lucy was excited, hands shaking, the smile permanent. God, look at her, acting like a teenager. The lab was not so far from the landing place, so it was quick. The team was waiting them.
“It’s a pleasure meet you, Mrs. Babet and you are…”
“The pleasure is mine Bossuet, got it right ? This is my granddaughter Éponine.”
“Yes, you got it right. Well, now you are here, let’s meet the rest of my team.”
It was a big place and for Éponine smelled like clean and uncomfortable, she was worried about her grandmother, she did not like the fact that Lucy was going to pass for all of these emotions all together. However, how she could deny anything for the person that cared so much for her. Éponine could only support her granny, be there for whatever she needed.
“Mrs. Babet, it’s a pleasure, I’m Antonie Joly and I am a doctor and scientist. You can call me Joly.”
“Of course a science men. If I’m going to call you Joly then you have to call me Lucy, Mrs. Babet is too formal… And who is this beautiful darling here?
“Oh gonna make me blush, I am Musichetta and I’m a historian, your necklace had been an object of study. Lucy, I’m thrilled to see what you have to tell us…”
“I am as well. Perhaps before we start, can I see my drawing?”
Joly directed them to another room, the safe box was on a table, its contents around for display. An old hairbrush, a broken mirror. The brush was a gift from her father, before he passed away, Lucy smiled, holding herself on Éponine’s arm. An old wheel brush comb, with phoenix on top, this one had been her favorite.
“All of this once were mine. Time is a funny thing. Look at me, I’m old enough to have great-grandchildren and not half pretty I was before, you see time was harsh with me. But looking for my belongings, time had been kind enough to preserve old memories.”
They were all looking at her, she knew it, but again she was interested in other things, of course she would not tell, after all Lucy was raised to be a woman of the high society. One of her lessons were patience, she had waited more than 80 years, a couple of seconds more were nothing. Musichetta guided them for the end of the table, where a glass box full of water, there it was, her drawing in the water.
“Lucy here is your drawing…”
Nothing could have prepared, her for that moment, it was the drawing, her drawing.
“Come closer Éponine…”
“It’s beautiful granny !”
Lucy saw in the corner of her eyes, Joly pushing a table with a small screen on it. Suddenly she felt tired and most of all heartbroken. Éponine walked her grandmother for a chair.
“Lucy I would love to show you some of my discoveries about the sinking of the Titanic. Well mostly scientific explanations.”
Joly was passionate and it was easy to see. He did his researches, studied hard and talked perfectly and clearly. His eyes shined with so much pride, it was endearing, and he was focused on the details. Lucy easily saw Bossuet’s eyes shining with love, not for the story, more for the teller. There was something going with this trio, but as any young people, they seem afraid of trying.
“Well it’s a beautiful explanation dear Joly, but I can tell you, the real experience were much more intense.”
“Could you tell us ? If you are tired we can wait, but it’s your decision Lucy.”
“Bossuet, there is no need to rest, I’m in perfect condition to tell my story.”
“Granny do you need something ?”
“Just your full attention ! It's been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in. The Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams, and it was. It really was….”