Beatrix had been distracted, thinking about what to do, what to pack, and about 80 million other things she needed to think about just then. So she'd not heard Ms. Mortimer come down the steps from her room and down the hall to the kitchen.  She turned to look at the older woman, blinking in a little bit of surprise. 


“Ms. Mortimer,” she said, trying to cut in as she chided them about him being there. They were in a public room, with all the doors into the room either open or at the very least unlocked and unbarred. It wasn't like they were in a position to get up to anything. And it wasn't like she, including Ms. Mortimer, didn't know him.  And it was very obvious that they had done nothing sinister at all.


But finally she'd been ruffled enough by her dousing her optimism with her unfounded dislike of Roger. “If he is going, so am I,” she said with a finality to her tone.


“You most certainly are not,” the old woman said, shaking her head as she came into the room more.


Bea started to gather up the papers without looking back at her. “I am old enough to know how to handle myself. You are not my mother, I will go out with whom I please. It is 1930 Ms. Mortimer, I should hope that we can start moving forward."


[Center]《》《》[/center]


Rebeca seemed a little confused when he asked her about the other parts. “No, just this one,” she said with a little shake of her head. She was a little disappointed that it didn't seem like Estella was there just now. She could use her help she was sure.


When the man asked if she was the mechanic she brought her blue eyes back into focus on him and snorted a laugh. “Ah not in the slightest. I'm just being errand girl at the moment. Is Estella not here at the moment? I have a feeling she'd be very helpful at the moment back on the ship."