Titanic 2020

'James?' he asked.

'It sounded more professional than Jimmy. Your interview with Pedroza is inside.'

Scoop rolled across and set several copies of the Times on Jimmy's bed. 'I'll leave you to have a read through, Jimmy.' He paused as he was about to turn away again. 'Son — you've done a good job, and you show a real talent for writing. You should give some thought to maybe doing this for a living. But don't be led astray. Claire's a bit of a wild one and she nearly got you both killed today. Never forget, though — her family is super rich. If she gets into trouble they will always look after her and sort her out and smooth over any hiccups. But they won't do the same for you. Will you remember that for me?'

Jimmy looked at him.

Then he shrugged.

13 Scoop's Secret

Now that he was safe, and alive, Jimmy was confused on several different levels. He wasn't entirely sure now that Pedroza had intentionally locked them in the freezer. His explanation that he was merely closing the door and switching it on in preparation for use made sense. Scoop assured him that he'd seen it written on the day's rota. Who knew what the evil smile he'd displayed while closing the door really meant? Perhaps that was just his smile. Perhaps he had just been thinking happy thoughts and really hadn't noticed them in the darkened interior.

What then of Claire's story? What about the family she claimed to have seen? Why would she make it up? To get attention? Because she was evil to the core?

That evening, while Jimmy rested in bed, Captain Smith visited. He assured him that a thorough search of the ship had been carried out and that no group of stowaways had been found.

Jimmy maintained that he'd managed to stay hidden for a couple of days, so why not this lot?

'Claire was talking about nine or ten individuals, with children — young children. Jimmy — it's simply not possible that he could keep them hidden.'

'We found a hand-print, a child's. . .'

'Perhaps you did. But we had a dozen different school tours over the past few months and they all came through the kitchens. Do you not think it more likely that some mucky schoolkid has left his mark?'

Jimmy sighed.

He didn't know what to make of Claire at all. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, without a doubt, but their relationship had thawed somewhat — even while they were freezing. But maybe they'd gotten on in the freezer because they had to. Now that they were free again . . . well, she hadn't come to see him yet. Captain Smith, in his own way, was warning him off her, and Scoop certainly hadn't pulled any punches. Jimmy was pretty expert at getting himself into trouble. Did he really need to hang about with someone who was clearly much, much better at it? Despite all his high jinks in Belfast, he'd never come even close to getting seriously injured. A few hours working alongside Claire and he'd almost frozen to death.

What he did feel good about — and he'd positively glowed when the Captain himself had praised it — was his work for the newspaper. He knew it was only a little paper, but there was something special about seeing his name in print. There were only two days left until their arrival in Miami, and the plan was to produce a paper for each of those days. Jimmy was determined to get right back to work.

***

Dr Hill twice caught him trying to sneak out of the Titanic's hospital. Jimmy finally accepted that he would have to spend the night there and settled into a fitful sleep. Next morning he was up bright and early, and as there was no one around to stop him he hurried straight along to the Times office. But as he was going in, Dr Hill was coming out. They were both surprised to see each other. Dr Hill immediately blocked his way.

'I'm better,' said Jimmy. 'Really, I'm fine.'

'It's not you, Jimmy. Scoop's not well. . .'

'Oh.'

'You'd better run along.'

'But I've work to do.'

'That may be, but he's not up to it. Now . . .'

'I know what I have to do, I don't need any help.'

Dr Hill blew air out of his cheeks. 'Jimmy — do you know what's wrong with Scoop?'

'Apart from the legs?' The doctor nodded patiently. 'Well — his eyes and his blood pressure and his balance and . . . well, no, not exactly.'

Dr Hill looked up and down the corridor, then ushered Jimmy back into the newspaper office and closed the door. 'Listen Jimmy, this is his last cruise. Do you know that?'

Jimmy nodded. 'Yeah, he said. But if you report he's sick then he won't get—'

'His pension. Yes. And I've been covering for him as best I can. But I have other duties. Do you know what they call what he has, Jimmy?'

Jimmy shrugged.

'Scoop is an alcoholic, son.'

'Oh. I thought it was like his heart or cancer or some other kind of disease.'

'Jimmy, son, that's exactly what it is — a disease. Just you don't get much sympathy if you have it. If you really do know how to put the newspaper together, then do it. Because he's in no state. The Captain is expecting tomorrow's paper to be ready this evening. Is that too much to ask?'

Jimmy shook his head, although he really didn't know. He'd written a news story for the front page of the Times and a feature for inside, but there were at least ten other pages to fill.

Dr Hill glanced towards the bedroom. 'He'll sleep now — hopefully right through — but if you really can do this for him, well, it would be marvellous. Can I depend on you?'

Nobody had ever depended on Jimmy to do anything in his life, or if they had, they had invariably been disappointed. With the best will in the world, and being perfectly honest with himself, the best Jimmy could muster in response was, 'Probably.'

***

In fact, his response should have been, 'No.'

It was just too big a job for one person. It wasn't that he couldn't do the work — he could write the stories, he could design the pages, he could even print the thing, but he simply couldn't do them all at the same time. Just to add to his problem, he deleted two stories by mistake and then he lost the Internet connection for an hour (although that wasn't his fault).

He needed help.

There was only one place to go.

He found her on the top deck, sunbathing. She was wearing a red bikini. They were getting close to America now and the temperature had warmed considerably in the past few days. The grey water of the Atlantic was gradually giving way to the turquoise hues of the Caribbean.

Jimmy sat down beside her. She didn't acknowledge him. 'I need your help.'

'Is that like support?' Claire snapped. 'Because I got none from you!'

'Claire . . .'

'You know it was Pedroza! You know there were people in there! You know I'm not making this up!'

'I never said you were.'

'They think I'm a liar, they think I'm just looking for attention, that's all they've ever said about me!' She jabbed an accusing finger at him. 'So why didn't you back me up?'

'I was still defrosting!'

'After!'

'Because!'

'Because why?'

'I don't know!'

'I told you what happened!'

'I know you did!'

'And I showed you the hand-print!'

'I know!'

'And we both saw him laughing!'

'I know that!'

'So?'