The sun was beating down on the deck. For the first time, Doris' arm had a tan. She wished she hadn't lent her sunglasses to Mona, especially since Momo had the shade of her hat to keep the rays from her eyes. She also wished Momo didn't insist on dragging their trunk up with them to the upper deck everyday because of fears of theft from the staff and the lower classes. Doris had been so looking forward to this trip, her first across the ocean (she didn't include that time with Franco and Dutch all those years ago...) but now, three weeks in and Momo hadn't said a word except to order her about like some scullery maid! And there were simply no raucous Irish dances late at night like that insufferable Rose had promised (with her it was always "this one time on the Titanic") nor were there any handsome men since that one filthy mouthed stevedore when they boarded. He could steve her door anytime, she had whispered to Mona. To which Momo had offered a mischievous look (one that does not in the least become of her), "I had him while you collected our tickets". Doris on occasion thought about ways in which she could murder Momo and make it look to be an accident.
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