Ireland,” I said politely, curious as to how she had come so far.
Yara dropped her piece of bacon and tossed her little hands into the air as she laughed. “ Sim, I was in London, this past year. I worked as a maid. That is how I was to meet Francisco, my doce-de-coco .”
Lucy gave a giggle, and then apologized, and I asked, “This Francisco, is he the one who plays the piano for the orchestra?”
“ Sim, sim, but this job is just to get him to America,” Yara replied.
“Once you arrive in America, what will you do?” asked Lucy.
“Francisco and I will marry; he has the promise of a good job in Miami,” she assured us.
This all seemed very romantic. “How did you get on board the ship?” I asked.
“I followed close behind a wealthy woman with much luggage. I pretended to be her maid and went right up the gangway.”
“Wearing that evening gown?” asked Lucy.
“Oh no, I had that in a bag. I wore simple clothing to go unnoticed,” she explained. “I thought I could hide in a lifeboat, but it wasn’t so easy.”
I became a little concerned. “Does your family know that you are on board this ship?”
“No, they think I’m still in London, working in that grand house,” she replied.
Nodding my chin, I told her, “We’ll need to send word to them. You don’t want them to be worried about you.”
Our food arrived, and Yara told us about her romance with Francisco. He had been hired to play the piano at a party hosted by her employer. Through the night, as she served champagne to the guests, their eyes had met. At the end of the evening, she watched him take a pen from the pocket of his jacket. He wrote something down on a corner of his sheet music and tore the edge from the page. Making sure that he’d once more caught her eye, even as she was tending to the departing guests, he placed the note on the keys of the piano and shut the lid.
After every guest was gone, and her employers had left her and the other domestics to clean, Yara hastened to the piano and retrieved the note. The message asked if she believed in love at first sight, and said that if she did, she was to meet him the next afternoon in a nearby café.
I was so happy that we had met Yara. Contented and sweet, she would make for a breath of fresh air in first class.
Returning to our suite, Lucy moved her belongings to my room, even as Yara insisted she could sleep on the divan in the parlor.
This suggestion was politely ignored.
We then journeyed with Yara to the lifeboat where she had hidden the bag that contained all her earthly possessions. I must admit that I was somewhat embarrassed as passersby gawked at us while Yara climbed about the little boat.
Lucy did a double take and asked, “That’s all you have?”
Yara opened the bag so that we could take a glimpse her maid’s uniform and several pieces of brightly colored beaded jewelry.
“Francisco will buy us everything we need once we reach America,” she told us with all the wonderful confidence of a child looking forward to receiving a nickel from the Tooth Fairy.
Exhaustion soon captured Yara, and she retired to her new room to take a nap. Lucy and I went for a stroll, taking in the fresh air on the open promenade at the rear of the ship.
This deck looked down on to the second-class promenade. After glancing below, I looked back to the sea. I felt rather uncomfortable in the spot; it felt rather exalted. It was not my place to look down upon anyone, and literally doing so while divided by class seemed most unchristian.
I was about to lead Lucy away when she exclaimed, “Oh, look, it’s Mr. Hurst.”
Gerald Hurst, the fellow we’d met at the hotel, had vanished from my mind. I hadn’t thought we’d see him since he was traveling second class.
It seemed that Lucy had caught his eye, for she started to
Yara dropped her piece of bacon and tossed her little hands into the air as she laughed. “ Sim, I was in London, this past year. I worked as a maid. That is how I was to meet Francisco, my doce-de-coco .”
Lucy gave a giggle, and then apologized, and I asked, “This Francisco, is he the one who plays the piano for the orchestra?”
“ Sim, sim, but this job is just to get him to America,” Yara replied.
“Once you arrive in America, what will you do?” asked Lucy.
“Francisco and I will marry; he has the promise of a good job in Miami,” she assured us.
This all seemed very romantic. “How did you get on board the ship?” I asked.
“I followed close behind a wealthy woman with much luggage. I pretended to be her maid and went right up the gangway.”
“Wearing that evening gown?” asked Lucy.
“Oh no, I had that in a bag. I wore simple clothing to go unnoticed,” she explained. “I thought I could hide in a lifeboat, but it wasn’t so easy.”
I became a little concerned. “Does your family know that you are on board this ship?”
“No, they think I’m still in London, working in that grand house,” she replied.
Nodding my chin, I told her, “We’ll need to send word to them. You don’t want them to be worried about you.”
Our food arrived, and Yara told us about her romance with Francisco. He had been hired to play the piano at a party hosted by her employer. Through the night, as she served champagne to the guests, their eyes had met. At the end of the evening, she watched him take a pen from the pocket of his jacket. He wrote something down on a corner of his sheet music and tore the edge from the page. Making sure that he’d once more caught her eye, even as she was tending to the departing guests, he placed the note on the keys of the piano and shut the lid.
After every guest was gone, and her employers had left her and the other domestics to clean, Yara hastened to the piano and retrieved the note. The message asked if she believed in love at first sight, and said that if she did, she was to meet him the next afternoon in a nearby café.
I was so happy that we had met Yara. Contented and sweet, she would make for a breath of fresh air in first class.
Returning to our suite, Lucy moved her belongings to my room, even as Yara insisted she could sleep on the divan in the parlor.
This suggestion was politely ignored.
We then journeyed with Yara to the lifeboat where she had hidden the bag that contained all her earthly possessions. I must admit that I was somewhat embarrassed as passersby gawked at us while Yara climbed about the little boat.
Lucy did a double take and asked, “That’s all you have?”
Yara opened the bag so that we could take a glimpse her maid’s uniform and several pieces of brightly colored beaded jewelry.
“Francisco will buy us everything we need once we reach America,” she told us with all the wonderful confidence of a child looking forward to receiving a nickel from the Tooth Fairy.
Exhaustion soon captured Yara, and she retired to her new room to take a nap. Lucy and I went for a stroll, taking in the fresh air on the open promenade at the rear of the ship.
This deck looked down on to the second-class promenade. After glancing below, I looked back to the sea. I felt rather uncomfortable in the spot; it felt rather exalted. It was not my place to look down upon anyone, and literally doing so while divided by class seemed most unchristian.
I was about to lead Lucy away when she exclaimed, “Oh, look, it’s Mr. Hurst.”
Gerald Hurst, the fellow we’d met at the hotel, had vanished from my mind. I hadn’t thought we’d see him since he was traveling second class.
It seemed that Lucy had caught his eye, for she started to
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