The Lost Sister, Kathleen McGurl [best desktop ebook reader txt] 📗

In the end she found herself staring at a young man with blond hair and the beginnings of a moustache, who looked as lost as she felt.

‘So many people!’ he said to her, catching her looking his way. ‘My name’s Martin, by the way. Martin Seward. I’m a steward.’

‘Emma Higgins, stewardess,’ she replied, shaking the hand he’d offered. He grinned at her, and she felt that here too was someone she might be friendly with.

‘What class?’

‘Second, I think,’ she replied. ‘You?’

‘Same. Only those with lots of experience get to work first class. Mind you, from what I hear the first-class passengers are much harder to manage.’

‘Have you been to sea before?’ Emma asked, feeling vaguely disappointed that he seemed to know more about it all than she did. She didn’t want to be the only person new to this work.

‘Only a couple of times, on the Majestic,’ he replied. ‘It’s nothing like this. Not that we’ve seen much of the Olympic yet. I can’t wait for the tour …’ He broke off as a bearded man in a smart uniform had climbed onto a small platform and was calling the gathering to order.

Emma listened closely as the various speakers introduced themselves. The first man was none other than Captain Smith, who was to command the ship on her maiden voyage. He seemed to inspire awe and respect in the crew members who’d met him before. ‘An excellent captain,’ Martin whispered to Emma. And then there were a few words from Thomas Andrews who had designed the ship, Purser McElroy, and the chief steward Mr Latimer, explaining what was to happen over the next few days as the ship was made finally ready to greet its first passengers.

At last the speeches were over, and after a smattering of applause the crew were split into groups according to their role. Emma and Martin went to the side of the room with the other second-class stewards. Emma caught a glimpse of Violet across the room, but she had joined the group of first-class stewards and hadn’t seen Emma. Emma hoped she’d find a chance later to track Violet down.

And then it was time for the long awaited tour of the ship. They went in groups, concentrating on the areas they’d need to know best, but were taken to all main areas. Emma’s head spun as she was shepherded through room after room, all decorated and furnished sumptuously. The second-class smoking room, with its geometric patterned carpet, oak panelling, and leather armchairs. The second-class dining salon, its ceiling of patterned plaster and its snowy white tablecloths echoing each other. ‘If these are the second-class rooms, what on earth are the first-class ones like?’ she whispered to Martin, as they were led past a well-equipped gymnasium, a Turkish bath and even a swimming pool. ‘A swimming pool! In a ship!’ Emma was astounded by the very idea of such a thing.

A little later they were taken into the first-class lounge, furnished in what they were proudly told was Louis XV style, with elegant sofas, chairs, and coffee tables arranged in groups and moulded wall panels surrounding gilt mirrors. It took Emma’s breath away. She had never seen anything as grand and opulent before. There were more smoking rooms and dining rooms, a library, a barber’s shop, and magnificent staircases leading from one deck to another. They were shown a glimpse of some first-class cabins. ‘In case you are asked by your second-class passengers what they could expect if they ever travelled first class,’ explained the chief steward. These were gloriously decorated, in Queen Anne style, Louis XVI style, or what Mr Latimer described as ‘modern Dutch’ style. All held beds adorned with thick satin eiderdowns and the plumpest pillows Emma had ever seen. As well as beds and wardrobes they contained armchairs and writing desks in separate sitting rooms, and each had its own private bathroom.

The second-class cabins were decorated in a more restrained manner but still to Emma’s eyes looked the height of luxury. Bathrooms were shared here, but had heating and electric lights that came on automatically when the door was opened.

At last they were taken to see the crew’s quarters and allocated to a cabin. Emma felt she must have walked several miles down endless corridors by the time she reached the one she was to share with another girl. (‘They’re not called corridors on a ship, they’re galleys,’ Martin had corrected her, ‘and not walls – bulkheads.’ She’d smiled and thanked him, and he’d blushed in response.)

The girl sharing her cabin introduced herself as Mary, and like Martin she’d worked on RMS Majestic before being picked to work the maiden voyage of the Olympic. ‘I’d rather have stayed on the Majestic,’ she confided. ‘Smaller ships are less work. I fear this one’s going to be tough.’

‘Are you first or second class?’ Emma asked.

‘First.’ Mary rolled her eyes. ‘The fussy ones who seem to think stewards and stewardesses need no sleep whatsoever. “Oh, be a love and get me a gin and tonic, ice and lemon, and a slice of strawberry gateau,” they say, “and bring it to my cabin.” At midnight! And then at six o’clock in the morning they’ll be wanting you to take darling Poochikins for his morning constitutional on deck, while they have a lie-in. You’re lucky to be working second class. Those people are so much more reasonable in their demands, and they do seem to remember that we lowly stewards are human too.’

Emma laughed at Mary’s mimicry of the spoilt first-class ladies, and felt thankful she had not been assigned to them. Second class she’d be able to deal with, she thought.

Her trunk had been delivered to her cabin, and she spent the next hour unpacking and making friends with Mary, who also knew Violet Jessop from previous ships. That was three people she knew and felt could be her friends, already! As Emma placed her copy of the photograph of Ruby, Lily and herself that