Bring Me To Your Stars

Petrichor

She had to be a ghost.

Because of all the official White Star people he expected to meet at 526 6th Ave, a stewardess wasn't his first guess.

And the moment James scanned the windowglass for any sign that he'd found the correct address, he paused still on the sidewalk. His gaze accidentally running into hers.

A ghostly gray reflection of himself merging with the maid's on the other side of the rain-kissed glass, as the world went silently on without them.

And the moment they locked eyes, James knew from the very bottom of his heart that finding each other had to be fate...as looking into her eyes...he suddenly remembered...How many times they'd bloody warned him what a blooming American circus he'd be walking into by accepting the Southampton-New York route!

All sorts of manky goings-on happen in America, they'd said. A sensible lad like you might go off his head by the end of it.

But for a salary of only 30 pounds a month, James would take the gamble on bagsying any extra routes White Star wanted to give him, if he was honest.

And what a damn good joy it was to finally find someone "normal" around there, restoring his hope in "reet good" reason again, as he put it.

Maybe he wasn't that barmy after all. Because at last, here stood a perfectly natural woman, dressed like all the other service girls he met back in England.

And at that point, he'd take anyone who might at long last help him sort this all out.

All he'd have to do was just walk in there and explain himself to her, give his report to the White Star superintendent about Titanic, and then straight away write his family to let them know he was alive and well, and they'd all be nanty-narking in no time.

And the thought of finally returning home to Scarborough made him so merry as a grig, that James couldn't stand waiting any longer to be done with America.

Staggering to catch his balance as his polished shoes slid along the slape wet sidewalk, James hastily quit the window and searched the building for the nearest door leading into the White Star Office. Finding one such door left ajar along the snicket, which stood propped open by a little rubbish basket.

He bolted for it.

Forgetting to mind the trail of muddied wet footprints left behind as he dashed through the hallway, checking every store closet and locked door to his left and right, until he found the one he wanted.

Coming to a sudden halt behind the stewardess, as she went on tidying up and dusting the countertops, singing to herself,

"Love can touch us one time and last for a lifetime, and never let go 'til we're gone."

James's lips parted, as if he meant to say something, but second guessing himself, he closed them again.

Remembering all at once that he'd already forgotten his manners, and quickly removed his officer's cap for the lady's sake, leaving it hanging in one hand as he used the other to reach out to her.

Pardon me?

The words were silent vowels on James's lips, as he undecidedly pulled his hand back when the stewardess suddenly turned to her right. Scooping up her used paper towels, and walking to the rubbish bin to dispose of them.

James dodged around with her.

Keeping himself just out of her line of sight as he went on faffing about, trying to guess the right time to make himself known.