section7mfu | The 'Avignon' Affair - Parts IV

Sorry for the division - LJ said this was too large for one post.

Part IV - Crossing the Channel

Waverly cast a look down at his pocket watch after he tugged it free. It seemed like so much time had passed since he had walked through the doors of the Foreign Office, but in fact, it was just past ten in the morning. Their ship was scheduled to set sail at noon.

Waverly took out the tickets again and had a look at them, frowning slightly as he noticed that the names on the tickets didn't match the names on their passports. Once they started traveling in France under their passport names, anyone trying to trace them back wouldn't find a connection back to England. Of course, whoever was looking would know that they had come across, but they wouldn't be able to establish when or how. First class tickets.

His frugal soul couldn't help but frown at that. Seeing the frown but not knowing the cause, Millicent decided to distract him a bit.

"You have me at a disadvantage now, as my mother would say. You know how old I am, but I don't know how old you are."

With a side glance, he tossed a variation her own words back at her.

"My own sister and you can't keep track? Well, I will be twenty in eleven days."

"On the twenty-first of April then? We shall have to celebrate then assuming we are able to."

The train shuddered a bit and got both of their attention.

"We appear to have arrived at Southampton, Millicent. Let's go have a look at this ship they've booked us on."

As they made their way to the docks, the assumed years seemed to fall off of Millicent as she took in the sight before them.

"Oh . . . my. It is absolutely enormous! And we're going on that?"

"If I recall what I've read about her correctly, she's the largest ship of her class currently. This will be her first cross-Atlantic voyage. And yes. First class tickets."

"A bit of an extravagance, but I won't complain. I've never been on a ship's maiden voyage before."

The excitement in her voice as her eyes ran over the length of the ship was evident in many of the other eyes around them as well. This vessel had been built to impress and impress she did.

"Nor I. We won't be on her more than a few hours, but we might as well take advantage and have a good look about. It appears boarding is already underway."

They made their way up the gangplank with still an hour to go before the ship would leave port. Leaving their bags in the space provided, Waverly offered Millicent his arm and the two of them began to explore after being informed that luncheon would be served after the ship was underway.

As they descended the grand staircase, the enormity of everything was still stunning.

"I should never in a hundred years have imagined all of this being on a ship, Alexander. We will be getting off in Cherbourg?"

"Yes. Then the ship will head to Queenstown and, after that, to New York."

"New York. That is a city I certainly would love to see myself one day. Shame I simply cannot just take this ship all the way there now."

"Perhaps you will when you're a bit older. The Titanic is a brand new ship, after all. They generally stay in service thirty years or so, so you should have ample opportunity."

He glanced down at his watch again.

"Nearly time for us to be puling away from the dock. Care to go back on deck and be a part of that?"

"Oh yes. Please."

The noise and streamers were all very exciting, but the thing that caught their attention was a near miss with another ship, ironically named the New York. That sobered Millicent's mood and, though she still appreciated their surroundings, her attention was back to what was to come. After eating, they found a quiet spot where they could speak privately.

"We won't be getting off at Cherbourg before nearly sundown, so we have a few hours. Tell me, Millicent, if you had your choice of where to go, where would it be?"

"Mother had intended for me to attend a finishing school in Switzerland. I suppose given the choice I would go there to complete my studies just because that was what she wanted. I have the rest of my life after I turn eighteen to do what I want."

"Sensible. I'm not at all certain how it could be brought about though."

"My mother, shall we say, didn't limit herself to one admirer. I believe I could find a way if I could get word to the right ears."

"Then we shall have to find a way to make that happen. I see a pair of deck chairs over there. We are likely to be quite busy once we're in France, so getting a bit of rest now might be the best idea."

He waited until Millicent settled into the chair, then tucked a lap rug around her before taking the chair next to her. Her eyes were looking off into the distance over the water. She didn't speak again until he had adjusted his own lap rug.

"And your orders to take me to Avignon, Alexander?"

"Odd thing about those orders. They said I was to take you there. They never said a thing about leaving you there."

Leaning back a bit, another smile formed.

"I do like the way you think, Alexander."

Part V - Cherbourg

The arrival at Cherbourg was an hour later than scheduled due to the near collision with the New York. At first they were puzzled when the ship got within sight of the shore, but didn't go any closer. They soon discovered that the ship wasn't actually going to dock at Cherbourg. The piers there simply weren't adequate to accommodate a steamer the size of the Titanic. Instead, the ship dropped anchor and tender ships came out to the steamer to bring additional passengers and luggage to the vessel and to transport the cross-channel passengers back to shore.

The tender ship that Millicent and Waverly were directed to was the Nomadic, which serviced the first and second class passengers. It was past six thirty by the time that they were actually about to step on French soil.

"We have our first deviation from the schedule they gave us, Millicent. The delay in arrival here means we've already missed our train."

Waverly's words were overheard by one of the officers who was assigned to the Nomadic. Had they been third or possibly even second class passengers, nothing else might have happened, but the White Star Line staff had standing orders with first class passengers that they were to be catered to. Before they quite knew what was happening, Waverly and Millicent were escorted inside the local office for the White Star Line, asked for their train tickets and offered a very nice light meal. By the time they had eaten, they were reimbursed for the cost of the train tickets as well as given sincere apologies for any inconvenience.

The entire scene left them both a touch bemused, but Waverly decided to consider the whole thing had been to their advantage and left with Millicent to find lodgings for the night. Since nearly three hundred people had just boarded the Titanic, finding a vacancy didn't prove to be difficult. They had to pay a bit more for two bedrooms, but there was no question about the necessity of that.

Once they were in their lodgings, one of the first things Millicent did was to start brushing out the sausage curls. Waverly watched her, amused by the procedure.

"I take it that is not your hairstyle of choice?"

"Hardly. Besides, I think it would behoove us if I looked as old as I possibly can. I think if I alter the style of my hair and dress a bit, I should be able to pass for two or three years older."

"You know how to arrange hair?"

"Well, I'm certainly not an expert, but I help Mother with hers all of the time."

Waverly stiffened just a bit as she referred to her mother in the present tense. The same realization seemed to come to her a minute later and the brush paused in mid-stroke. After a moment, the brush was lowered, then laid down on the vanity table. Rising, Millicent didn't look over to him as she murmured something that he couldn't quite make out before she went into the room where her bed was and shut the door behind her.

Not knowing quite what else to do, Waverly moved over to the small balcony of the room, opening the doors to it and stepping out onto it before lighting a cigarette. He was quite lost to his thoughts and had nearly finished when the small voice spoke behind him, not quite at her normal strength, but not far from it.

"I don't see how you can stand those things. They smell so horrid and look like a child playing with chalk."

Turning to look at her, her eyes were slightly red and it was plain that she had just washed her face. As he put out his cigarette, he decided he wouldn't bring that up unless she did first. She had a right to grieve in private, after all.

"You may have a point. Perhaps I'll switch to cigars or a pipe. But that's for another day. Right now we need to decide where we go from here. Tell me, Millicent, you mentioned reaching the right ears. Might you be able to send a telegram to them?"

"I don't see why not. Actually, that sounds like a splendid idea. With the port here -"

Waverly came back inside, shutting the balcony doors.

"No. I think it would be best if we didn't send anything from Cherbourg. If we're being watched from afar, once they have determined that we didn't make the train they intended us to, our activities here will be the first thing that they will check. Millicent, do you know how to cycle?"

Her eyes grew wider and her mouth opened slightly before a thoughtful look came over her face.

"Yes, I do. I daresay I'm a bit rusty, but I'm sure it would come back to me rather quickly."

"Excellent. If they are the hounds and we two are the foxes, let us give the hounds a run for their money."

Part VI – Changes

When morning came, Waverly felt oddly alive. This experience was far away from anything that he had imagined just two days ago, but he found it as bracing as cold water in the face. When Millicent emerged from her room, he noted that brushing the majority of the curl out of her hair and putting it up did have the desired effect that she had been hoping for.

"Millicent, we shall have to begin by walking and find a store that sells appropriate clothing. You certainly cannot ride a cycle in that rig."

That brought laughter to her lips that was a welcome change. From the spark in her eyes, he had to believe that this altering of circumstance was welcome to her as well.

"A rig? Well, I have heard clothing called far less flattering names. Good morning, Alexander."

"Good morning. Our first order of business should be to decide our new names."

"I beg your pardon? Don't we have to stick with the names on our passports?"

"I don't see why. You speak French and I speak French - why not simply become French?"

The laughter came bubbling out again and for a second time, he got a glimpse of the girl behind the young lady.

"You are a genius, Alexander. Would you mind if our last name was Cheval? It's a bit of a joke, but I don't believe anyone else would understand it."

"No, I suppose that will work as well as any other name, but might I ask what the joke is?"

"My last name, as you can tell, is hardly Russian nor is it the one of my supposed sire."

She stopped speaking as she saw understanding lighting up in his eyes.

"Kildare was his favorite horse."

"So I am told. I suppose it could be considered flattering. Most gentlemen give more care to how their horses are tended than to their daughters."

"Well, so long as you find it amusing, I can't imagine too many would make the leap from one to another. As far as our first names go, we can keep the same and just alter the spelling to the French variant."

"Alexandre and Millicente Cheval. I do think that flows very well, don't you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Shall we be on our way?"

"Mais bien sur, Alexandre, mon frère."

He gave her a smile as they each took their small cases and left the small hotel without a word to anyone. Walking through past a bakery, they paused just long enough to purchase some items to make a decent breakfast and lunch from. It was quickly agreed that they would stick to speaking French from this point to avoid forgetting.

"We will walk to Tourlaville, I think. About three and a half miles so it isn't beyond our ability to walk there, especially since you had the sense to wear a pair of sensible shoes. From there, we should be able to obtain serviceable attire and a pair of cycles."

The weather was pleasant, so there was no need for haste to get out of the elements. Besides, Waverly pointed out that two people taking a leisurely stroll wouldn't attract nearly the attention of two people rushing along and his intention was that anyone trying to track the two of them would run into a very muddled trail very quickly.

As hoped, in Tourlaville, they were able to purchase a used pair of bicycles - Matadors from Holland. They were around five years old, but well-maintained. Used, but serviceable clothing was also obtained. Fortunately, things were reasonably priced. Their funds were limited and not replaceable at this point.

As they cycled away from the fishing town, they looked far more like others you would see around the French countryside and less like English citizens in hiding. When they pulled to the side of the road later, Waverly pulled out a small map he had purchased and pointed out about where they were currently and where they were headed.

"Our next stop will be Caen. That's the place where we will try to get your telegram sent off, so be composing that in your head. You will need to be a brief as possible, Millicent."

"Yes, Alexander. I will do my best."

She leaned a bit to take a better look at the map, then let out a breath slowly.

"It looks to be a great deal further to Avignon than I had thought it was."

"Somewhere around six hundred and fifty miles, my dear. Ready to continue?"

She just smiled and nodded, warmed a bit by his use of the small term of endearment. Perhaps he was just using it to help keep her spirits up. If so, it was working.