The Girl Who Came Home
Maggie watched as men paced the floor, rubbing their stubbled chins in thought. What should they do? How could they help their wives and children get out of this awful situation? Some were bent down on their haunches, asking others what they had been told, trying to glean whether they knew any more than they did before returning to their own families to relay the latest information and rumors. The only certainty was that nobody really knew what was happening. Some had been told there was nothing to worry about, while others had been told the ship was sinking. What they all seemed to agree on was that they should wait there for further instructions from the crewmen or officers. Their social status meant they were familiar with awaiting instructions, so that was what they did now.
Among the men, women sat in groups reciting Hail Marys; mothers wrapped blankets around their small, confused children, soothing them, trying to dispel their fears, although Maggie could tell by the look in their eyes that their own fears were as real as those of their children. Those who could not understand or speak English sat in huddled, private groups, unsure of what to do or whom to ask. Someone was playing the piano; others were taking advantage of the confusion and taking a drink from the bar. It struck Maggie that the tables were all laid out neatly for the morning breakfast service, the crisp white linen tablecloths and the neatly arranged place settings at odds with the confusion and disorder around her. She had admired all of these small details over the last few days—now it seemed ridiculous that a ship that was sinking with thousands of people on board still looked so neat and tidy.
It was Maura Brennan who saw them first.
“Maggie! Girls! Over here,” she called, standing up on a table so they could see where the voice was coming from.
“Oh, thanks be to God, girls, look. It’s Mrs. Brennan and the others.”
They pushed their way through the gathered groups of passengers, stepping over cases and trunks that lay scattered on the floor, weaving in and out of people who blocked their path. Maggie passed the young English girl, Elsie. She was sitting with her family, cradling her baby brother in her arms. The two girls looked at each other and smiled a desperate smile. Maggie saw the uilleann piper talking rapidly with a group of other men. How familiar these faces had become in the few days they had shared the space on this magnificent ship. She wondered what would become of them all.
“Where’s Aunt Kathleen?” Maggie inquired, immediately scanning the familiar faces of the Ballysheen group, but not seeing her aunt’s among them.
“She’s been waking everyone, Maggie. Just like your aunt, organizing us all, walking up and down those corridors until every one of us was woken and dressed with our coats and shoes. She told us all to wait in here—that she’d join us.”
Maggie glanced around again. “But she’s not here, Mrs. Brennan! I don’t see her.”
“Well, she must have gone back to fetch ye girls. She’ll be here soon. Don’t be worryin’, child.”
“We shouldn’t have gone without her. She’ll be wonderin’ where we’ve got to. Maybe she’s waitin’ for us in the cabin. Should I go back?”
“Good Lord, girl. You will certainly not go back. The ship is sinking. If we need to go anywhere, it’s up to the decks.”
“Ah, Maggie. My hat! I forgot my hat.” Peggy was already turning to walk back for it.
“Wait! Peggy, wait!” Maggie cried. “I’ll come with you.”
And with that, before anyone could stop them, the two girls started to push their way back through the crowds, out into the corridor, running when they could and excusing themselves to push past people when they couldn’t.
As they approached their cabin, they saw the water creeping ominously along the corridor.
“Oh, Peggy, look. It’s already goin’ down!”
Without thinking for a moment Peggy strode through the water, pulling Maggie with her, the cold making them both gasp and shriek, the bottoms of their coats dragging through the water.
“Yes, Maggie. It is goin’ down. And I’m not plannin’ on lettin’ my lovely new hat go down with it.”
Entering the cabin, they quickly realized Kathleen wasn’t there. Maggie felt frightened for her and hoped that she would be among the others by the time they got back to the dining room.
Reaching up to her top bunk bed, Peggy grabbed her hat and the gloves that she always kept inside it. Turning to clamber back down, hardly able to bear the thought of putting her legs back into the freezing water, she noticed Maggie’s small black case sitting at the foot of the opposite bunk bed.
“Are ye plannin’ on leavin’ that here, or d’ye want to take it with you?” she said, pointing up at the case.
“I forgot about it completely,” Maggie replied as she stood on the edge of Kathleen’s bed and reached up, feeling around until she grabbed hold of the case.
Stepping hesitantly back down into the water, she instinctively reached into her coat pocket, the reassuring bulk telling her that the packet of letters was still there. Then they left the narrow room that had become their home for a few brief days, splashing back up the corridor.
“We had some fun in there, didn’t we?” Maggie whispered, her teeth already chattering with the cold. She thought about how they’d giggled after Harry had smiled at Peggy and the chats they’d had late into the night about what it would be like to live in America. She thought of the look Aunt Kathleen had given them when she’d caught them deciding what Maggie would write in her telegram message to Séamus. They’d gone up the ladder to the upper decks then to spy on the rich and famous. She briefly wondered what was happening up there now; their after-dinner drinks and restful slumber had been rudely interrupted, no doubt, by the noise being made as the crewmen got the lifeboats uncovered.
“We did, didn’t we?” Peggy stopped, turning to face her friend. “Maggie, I can hardly believe the ship is sinkin’. I’d think I was dreamin’ if I wasn’t so scared out of my mind. We will be all right, y’know. That fella in Queenstown said I would survive—and I’m not survivin’ without you, y’know.”
The two shared an uneasy smile and grasped each other’s hands.
“Come on, Peggy. I don’t like the look of that water at all. We need to get up to the lifeboats.”
Shivering from the icy chill of the water that seeped out of their shoes, their feet squelching inside, the bottoms of their coats and nightdresses soaked and clinging around their knees, the two girls splashed back to the dining room as quickly as they could.
In the few minutes they had been gone, it had been transformed into a scene of total panic and confusion. There seemed to be twice as many people in the room as there had been before, and the girls made their way back to the area where they’d left the others. They were still there, but there was no sign of Kathleen.
Harry struggled as he pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered on the staircase to the upper decks. It was almost impossible to get up with the cases and life jackets impeding everyone’s movements. It was becoming a desperate situation, and he knew that time was running out. It was almost an hour now since they had struck the iceberg. He knew that there could be only an hour left for them to get off the ship.
He was trying to escort a group of about twenty-five passengers up from the steerage accommodations, but it was virtually impossible. As he finally emerged onto the deck, the noise and the icy chill of the night air hit him with surprising force. It was a scene very different from the one he had left an hour ago, when a strange calm had clung to the ship. Now there was anything but calm, as a frantic attempt to get people into the lifeboats was well under way, crewmen shouting orders to one another across the intermittent hiss of steam rushing to escape from the funnels—a deafening, shrieking noise that made Harry place his hands over his ears.
Relieved to have got the group of passengers safely up on deck, he moved them toward the portside aft, where he knew the lifeboats would be lowered first. Officers were shouting instructions as passengers hesitated, unsure about clim
bing into the wooden lifeboats that were being slowly lowered over the side of the ship to begin the terrifying seventy-foot descent to the freezing ocean below.
“I’ll not get in, John, I’ll not,” he heard one woman protesting to a man who was coaxing her into the lifeboat. “I’ll not leave without you.”
“I’ll be in the next boat,” he assured her. “When all the women and children are safely in, then they’ll let the men go. Now, get in. You’re holding up the others and we don’t want to cause a fuss.”
The woman relented finally, climbing reluctantly into the lifeboat, where she sat among forty or so other women and young children. At that, it was lowered away. It occurred to Harry that there seemed to be room for many more in the lifeboat, but he assumed the crewmen knew what they were doing. Perhaps the lifeboats could take only so much weight?
Having guided his own group of twenty-five or so toward the front of a small crowd waiting to get into the next lifeboat, Harry retraced his footsteps to get back to the dining room to collect more. He was especially keen to see Peggy and the others, assuming that they were all still down there, waiting for instructions as to what to do next.
Returning to the stairwell, he realized there was little point trying to make his way back down. It was, by now, a seething mass of bodies and luggage. Stewards and crewmen were standing at the top of the stairs, blocking anyone from stepping onto the deck. It was clearly going to be impossible to get back down that way. Harry looked around him, from left to right. It was the same scene everywhere he looked.
“Oi! Mate,” he called across to one of the stewards whom he recognized from the dormitory and who seemed to be in charge of the mass of steerage passengers trying to get up from the lower decks. “What’s goin’ on? Why are you not lettin’ ’em up?”
“Officer’s orders, mate. They’re creating a panic, all rushing to the lifeboats and tryin’ to jump into them as they’re being lowered over the side. I’ve already seen one woman fall overboard. They’ve gone crazy. And they’ve all brought their bloody luggage. Look at ’em. Cases, trunks, the lot. You’d think they were trying to rebook themselves onto a pleasure cruise, not get off a sinkin’ bloody ship.”
“But you can’t keep them penned in the stairwells. How’s anyone else gonna get up?”
The two men looked at each other and the steward shrugged. “Damned if I know, mate. Damned if I know. I’m just followin’ orders. That’s all.” There was a sense of resignation in his voice that Harry didn’t like.
It was then that he heard a dog barking. Turning toward the sound, he caught sight of the first-class woman whose dog he had walked on the upper decks a few days ago. She was standing in a white silk evening gown, her fur stole around her neck, a fur hat on her head, and her coat draped elegantly over her shoulders. The dog was in her arms, barking at all the noise and commotion. Her fiancé was trying to persuade her to put on her life jacket.
“Oh, stop fussing so, will you, Robert, for goodness’ sake,” she chided. “I am perfectly sure that the officer meant for the life jackets to be worn only when people are in the lifeboats. There is absolutely no good reason for putting the damned thing on when we’re still standing around on the deck. It will just get in the way. They’re such ugly-looking things anyway. I refuse to wear it any sooner than is absolutely necessary.”
“Oh, on the contrary, darling,” Robert replied, trying to lift the life jacket over her head. “They’re the very latest thing this season. Everyone is wearing them now! Look around.”
“Oh, Robert,” she chastised, a look of disgust on her porcelain face. “Don’t be so utterly ridiculous. And could you please ask Anna to hurry up with a blanket for Edmund. The poor mite is trembling with the cold. Look at him!”
Harry watched the exchange in disbelief. She seemed to be in no hurry whatsoever to get into a lifeboat, and was she really worried about how she looked at that particular moment? The ship was sinking, for God’s sake. People were already dying in their efforts to save themselves, and all Vivienne Walker-Brown was worried about was how she looked and whether her precious little dog was all right.
Harry recalled how he had taken a dislike to the woman from the minute he’d first seen her. She now appeared to him the epitome of selfishness, and he wondered how the Irish girls could have been so impressed by her when he’d sneaked them up the ladder to spy on her and the other first-class idiots.
The ladder!
Why hadn’t he thought of it before?
Taking a moment to get his bearings, he ran around to the other side of the ship, past the gentlemen’s smoking room and the Palm Court, toward the crew ladder he had brought the girls up that morning. In his hurry, he barely acknowledged the fact that many of the first-class passengers were standing around in their life jackets, chatting pleasantly, finishing their drinks and smoking their cigars while the musicians played soothing music in the background. The iceberg still loomed ominously in the distance, and people were still crowding around to look at the chunks of ice that had been knocked off it onto the deck.
Clambering down the ladder, which was empty, Harry ran the length of Scotland Road, negotiating his way along the now familiar labyrinth of corridors to the third-class dining room, encouraging the people he passed to wait there. “I’m coming back!” he shouted to them. “Wait here. The stairwells are blocked. I know a way up. Wait here.”
By now the dining room was completely chaotic. He pushed his way through the crowd, heading toward the piano, where he had last seen Peggy and the Irish group.
They weren’t there.
He looked frantically around the room until he saw a distinctive green hat. Peggy! Relieved, he ran toward the group, urging them to come with him. He grabbed Maggie by the shoulders.
“Maggie, listen. You’re not going to be able to get up on deck using the stairs. D’you understand? They’re all blocked with people and they’re not letting anyone up at the moment.”
She looked at him, a wild terror in her eyes.
“D’you remember the ladder, Maggie? The one I took you up this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Go there now. It’s the only way up. Take your group and I’ll meet you up there. D’you remember the way?”
Peggy was listening. “I do,” she said. “I remember. I’ll take them.”
“I’m going to fetch some others to come up with us,” Harry continued. “I’ll see you on the deck. Wait at the top of the ladder. I know where there’s a lifeboat.”
Maggie grabbed his arm. “Harry, can you take the family sittin’ over there?” She pointed in the direction of Elsie, the young English girl, and her family. “They’ve a small baby.”
“I will. Now go, all of you. And hurry. There isn’t much time.” Seeing them start to reach for their cases and luggage, Harry spoke again. “You’ll have to leave the luggage. There’s no room for it and it’s making it difficult for people to move, getting in the way an’ all.”
Maggie watched as Harry moved over to the English family and spoke quietly to the father.
Among her own group there was consternation as they started discussing whether they should leave their cases behind as Harry had instructed.
“Well, let’s do as the man says,” Maura Brennan announced in a clipped tone, assuming the role of group leader in Kathleen’s absence. “There’s nothin’ in these cases we can’t replace. If it’s my life or my possessions, I know which I’d rather be keepin’. Now come on, all of ye. Let’s at least give ourselves a chance.”
Reluctantly they moved away from the pile of trunks, Ellen Joyce crying more than most at the thought of leaving all her wedding gifts behind. Katie put her arm around her as they walked out of the room.
“You still have your ring, Ellen, and your beautiful gold watch. Your fella wouldn’t want you to be fussin’ about linen and lace when we’re in such trouble, y’know.”
Maggie didn’t even notice that she was still clutching her small black case as
she and Peggy led the rest of the Ballysheen group out of the dining room and along the corridor to the crew ladder.
As Harry had said, the ladder was not blocked by other passengers. Just a few crewmen and stewards were making their way up it. Maggie gripped the cold iron rungs. Their route to the boat deck, and to safety, was clear.
Kathleen was hemmed in on the stairwell. She couldn’t move up onto the decks because the officers wouldn’t let them and she couldn’t move back down because of the surging mass of people behind her.
She’d started up the stairwell to help a little boy who’d become separated from his mammy. She’d come across him in the corridor on the way back to the dining room after she realized that the three girls had gone from their cabin. “Mammy! Mammy!” was all he would say, whimpering and cowering in a corner. There wasn’t a bone in Kathleen Dolan’s body which could leave him there. When she’d urged him to tell her where he’d last seen his mammy, his tiny finger eventually pointed toward the chaotic stairwell. Taking his hand, Kathleen had rushed with him to the stairs. His mother was near the top, calling for him, frantically searching the blur of faces behind her. Kathleen had carried him up to her and was now stuck.
She was sure she could make out the voice of the steward Harry, asking the officer at the top of the stairwell what was going on. If she hadn’t been a proud woman, she might have considered calling out to ask him to tell the others that she would see them on deck, but she still had her dignity, despite the desperate situation, and screeching someone’s name like a fishwife was not in Kathleen Dolan’s nature. So she stood among the many others and waited patiently until it was their turn to ascend and get into the boats.
It was at that moment that Kathleen heard a gunshot. For the first time in her life she was terrified. For the first time since Harry had woken them to tell them what had happened, she truly wondered whether she would ever see her niece or the others again.
CHAPTER 24
Cass County, Illinois