Collision Course Read Free Page A

him out of first class!”
    “I can’t go back to steerage,” Paddy told them. “The crew is looking for me there.”
    From the master suite, the earl’s voice could be heard. “A fresh cravat, Walmsley. Before I miss another round.”
    “We’ll find Alfie,” Juliana decided. “He’ll know what to do.”

CHAPTER THREE
    RMS
TITANIC

F RIDAY, A PRIL 12, 1912, 5:35 P.M.
    Number 5 Boiler Room was so hot that Alfie half expected the wool of his steward’s jacket to burst into flames. He felt a wave of pity as he regarded his father, black with coal dust, glistening with sweat, plying his shovel. The stokers of the
Titanic
’s black gang lived and worked far below the waterline in a sunken realm of darkness and fire.
    “Aye, boy,” John Huggins was telling his son. “Captain Smith gave the order this morning to light two more boilers.”
    “I don’t know how you stand it, Da,” Alfie gasped, running a finger under his tight collar.
    His father grinned. “I won’t lie to you. There are times when I go up on deck for a breather and I’m sore tempted to take a swim over the side, just to cool down. Then I remember how cold that ocean is, and I’m proper grateful to be hot again.”
    “Why do they need more boilers?” Alfie questioned.
    John Huggins shrugged. “If you want your horse to go faster, you give him a bigger pail of oats. If you want more speed, you pour on more coal. She’s making better than five hundred miles a day — well better, I’d wager. I’ve never worked a finer ship.”
    Alfie looked nervous. “Five hundred miles a day! Is that even safe?”
    His father laughed. “We’re in the middle of the Atlantic. The fish don’t care how fast we pass by. We’ve two more burners yet to light. I expect that order will come tomorrow sometime. There’s talk of making New York by Tuesday night, half a day ahead of schedule. Wouldn’t that be something?”
    “I suppose,” Alfie agreed, bewildered. “But what’s the advantage of steaming into New York Harbor in the wee hours? The passengers will be asleep, and so will the city they’re landing in.”
    “The newspapers, lad,” the fireman explained. “The maiden voyage of the greatest ship ever built! When the papers come out Wednesday morning, the name
Titanic
should be in every headline, in the largest type!”
    “John!” came a bellow that cut through the clamor of the boiler room. A sailor appeared partway downthe ladder from the upper decks. “Is your boy there with you?”
    Alfie moved to the foot of the ladder. “I’m right here.”
    “A passenger wants you.”
    “I’m off duty,” Alfie protested.
    The man laughed. “Well, get back
on
duty. Miss Glamm needs a hat from the baggage hold.”
    Alfie was mystified. “Miss Glamm? What hat? She has more hats than I have hairs on my head.”
    “Or you can ignore her and hear about it from Mr. Lightoller. It’s up to you.” And he was gone.
    “Better go, lad,” his father called good-naturedly. “You know these first-class ladies and their frills and fancies.”
    Alfie walked forward, ducking through the hatch that separated the boiler rooms from the fireman’s passage that led to the holds in the ship’s bow. At the touch of a single button on the bridge, a watertight door would come down and seal that opening. There were fifteen such doors dividing the hull of the
Titanic
into closed compartments. This was the feature that made her unsinkable. In the unlikely event that anything pierced the double steel hull, the flooding could be instantly and completely contained.
    In the passage, the temperature dropped appreciably. That, at least, was a relief. But the prospect of spending the rest of his afternoon off running hatboxes up and down the spiral staircase to Juliana was not very appealing.
    As a stoker’s son, Alfie had met very few wealthy people prior to this voyage. It was astonishing how a change of hat could be so important to the captains of government and