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I’m too weary to put her straight but wonder once again whether she knows about her cousin, Mr Rowland. If she does, she’s doing a very good job of hiding her grief.

Walter-Wyatt can’t get enough of the tragedy. ‘There weren’t enough lifeboats, my dear. Can you imagine what a dreadful oversight!’

‘Well, if you think a ship won’t sink, why would you bother with lifeboats?’ she replies with a shrug.

Lester is bored of the subject and perhaps as vexed as I am by their lack of understanding of the scale of the tragedy. ‘Why, indeed?’ he agrees politely.

‘Those jackasses have egg on their faces now,’ Walter-Wyatt adds, chuckling. ‘I’ll leave you now and look forward to seeing you in the morning. I hope you both sleep well.’ He calls after his wife. ‘My dear, we are expected at the Johnson Stokes’ in half an hour.’

‘I will be ready,’ she declares. I’m surprised they’re going out so late. It’s well after ten o’clock and it looks like their evening is just beginning.

Alice lifts her skirt and leads us up the grand staircase.

‘The newspapers are full of it, you know,’ she tells us in her soft, breathy voice, repeating what her husband said in the car.

‘No one can talk of anything else, especially Walter. Such a riveting drama. Everyone said it couldn’t sink.

Well, they look a little foolish now, don’t they?

I can’t imagine the horror, so many people will have lost everything.

You know, you can’t replace jewellery that’s been handed down the generations.

You simply can’t. It breaks my heart to think of it rotting on the seabed. Just awful.’

‘I think most survivors will mourn the people they have lost,’ I tell her.

‘Oh, of course, that too.’ She dismisses them with a wave of her elegant hand. I’m beginning to get the measure of Alice Aldershoff.

Lester trails behind us, exasperated by Alice’s conversation and seemingly unimpressed with the house. I suppose, having been brought up in an English stately home, to him this building is regrettably nouveau.

She shows us to our bedrooms, which are opposite one another, like on the Titanic .

The serene luxury of her home is a world away from the one we’ve just inhabited.

It’s an oasis, a bubble, and I’m relieved to be in it.

The big double bed looks so inviting, I long to dive into it and go to sleep.

Ruby is nowhere to be seen, but the blue box has been placed on the bed.

‘Your maid is being shown to her quarters upstairs,’ Alice continues.

‘She’ll be well looked after and can tend to you tomorrow.

’ She pulls a gold cord, which hangs like a donkey’s tail beside the bed.

‘In the meantime, one of my maids will look after you and see that you have everything you need. I can lend you nightclothes and toiletries. You poor dear, Constance. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose all your beautiful things. ’

I couldn’t give a damn about my beautiful things and I don’t imagine Constance would either. But I agree that it is dreadful, just to humour her.

She looks at the blue box. ‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a Ouija board,’ I tell her. ‘A spirit board.’

Her eyes widen with delight. ‘To communicate with the dead?’ she asks, reaching out and unclipping it. She lifts the lid. When she sees the board, she gasps. ‘Would you look at that? How splendid.’

‘Sometimes it’s possible,’ I reply.

She laughs. The laugh of a woman who has no cares.

‘Oh, let’s have some fun tomorrow.’ She turns and takes my hands in hers again.

‘I’m just so happy you’re here. I’m sure we’re going to love Lester just as much as Esme does.

And how good of you to come with him. I’m just sorry his mother wasn’t able to make the trip.

Although, in light of what’s happened, she had a lucky escape.

I have arranged a party in Lester’s honour in Newport next week, so that he can meet our friends and family.

In fact, I have arranged many events. I want to show you both off – my daughter’s fiancé, Viscount Ravenglass, and his aunt, the Honourable Constance Fleet.

It’s thrilling, really, that you’re both here.

Even more thrilling that you were on the Titanic .

Everyone is going to want to hear about it.

But I will make sure they don’t tire you out.

We have a darling cottage by the sea and will leave New York as soon as you are both rested. ’

Alice leaves me alone at last to head out to her party.

My head is spinning from her chatter. I realise that she hasn’t heard about her cousin’s death, and feel sorry that she will soon learn the terrible news.

Carter, a young Irish maid with curly brown hair and freckles, runs me a bath in the most over-decorated bathroom I have ever been in, and then goes off in search of a nightdress and toiletries.

I wallow in the warm, scented water, taking in the big Venetian mirrors, elaborate mouldings and white marble, and wash away the trauma of the last few days.

It seems strange to be here in this beautiful house where everything is shiny and new, after having languished in the freezing cold on a lifeboat, watching the great Titanic sink.

I remind myself that this is not my reality, that I’m living a dream and that I can return to my own time whenever I want.

It’s too easy to lose oneself in the drama and I must not let that happen.

I mustn’t forget who I really am and what I’m here for.

I eat vegetable soup and bread alone in my bedroom.

The silk curtains are drawn and besides the distant rumbling of the city, the house is quiet.

I think of Cavill and my heart aches for him.

Now I know that our paths are unlikely to cross again, I’m anxious to discover what happens to Lester and then slide back to my own time. I’m weary of living this drama.

I put my head on the soft pillow and slip into a dreamless sleep.

The following morning, I’m awoken by Ruby, who’s wearing a borrowed uniform.

Her white apron is pristine over a long black dress and she’s wearing a white cap on the back of her head.

She’s clearly pleased with her new outfit for she has a bounce in her step as she crosses the floor to open the curtains.

Spring sunshine pours into the room, bringing into light the elegant French furniture and pretty floral wallpaper.

The bedroom is exquisite. I imagine it’s even more exquisite than the Ritz!

It’s large with a high ceiling, and everywhere the eye travels there’s something lovely to look at: Persian rugs, china lamps, pretty paintings, chairs upholstered in silk, and a charming chaise longue at the end of the bed.

I notice a vase of white peonies on the dressing table.

Even they are extravagantly big and beautiful.

I can’t help but marvel at how these wealthy Gilded Age people lived.

It’s beyond anything in my experience. It seems to be beyond anything Ruby has experienced either, for she chatters on about how gorgeous it is.

Ruby has brought me a skirt and blouse to wear.

I don’t imagine they belong to Alice because I wouldn’t fit into anything of hers; she’s as petite as a doll.

As I dress, I can’t help but turn my nose up at the unattractive beige-coloured skirt and white lacey blouse.

I wonder where Alice found this unappealing ensemble.

I have no choice but to wear it, as I have nothing else.

I do need to buy new clothes, but I don’t have any money.

It’s not like I can nip out to a cashpoint, or transfer funds from my UK bank account with my phone.

I have no idea how anything is done here, in this time – and I can’t let my ignorance show.

I just have to hope that Alice will take charge and look after me while I’m being Constance. It can’t be for much longer.

Ruby looks me up and down, and I can see the dismay on her face.

‘I look a sight,’ I tell her with a sigh.

I can tell she’s trying to think of something positive to say. ‘It’s not that bad, just plain when you’re a lady who loves colour.’

I smile at her. ‘You’re very diplomatic, Ruby. I think your uniform is more exciting than this dowdy ensemble.’

She laughs and smooths her white apron with her hands. ‘It’s nice, isn’t it? Maybe I should wear a uniform like this when we get back home.’

‘I’m sure they’ll let you keep it.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Tell me, how is everything downstairs? Are the servants nice?’

‘Miss O’Donnell, Mrs Aldershoff’s lady’s maid, is very kind. She’s Irish, you know. She left her family in Cork to come here. She hasn’t seen them in six years.’

‘That’s a long time.’

‘And Mr Henderson, the senior butler, is English. He’s strict, but he has lots of servants to manage, so I suppose he has to be firm.

Then there’s Mrs Farkas, the housekeeper.

She’s from Hungary. There are lots of immigrants here, you know.

Mrs Farkas is kind too. So far, everyone has been kind.

They’re all curious to know what happened on the Titanic . ’

‘And Glover? How is he?’

She shrugs. ‘I haven’t seen him, ma’am.’

I wonder then whether he spent the night in Lester’s bed. Surely, he wouldn’t be that reckless. ‘Oh. Well, I hope he’s being treated well too,’ I add casually.

‘I’m sure he is,’ she replies. ‘They’re not like English people who are suspicious of foreigners.’