He patted his pocket to check that his savings were still there. He planned on buying Jean a ring in New York and making an honest woman of her when he came back from this trip. He closed his eyes, picturing her smile. She was a wonderful woman and he was the luckiest man alive. He had money set aside for their new home in Southampton, a house near where her mother lived. Her mother would keep Jean company when he was at sea and help her with the children, assuming they were blessed.
A stoker friend had a mate who knew someone selling jewelry in New York and had promised all the gang a good price. He was bound to be getting a cut of the business, but Gerry didn’t care. Jean was a great girl, understanding about his being away at sea for weeks on end. She understood better than most, having a brother, Tommy, who also worked on the ships. Tommy was a steward and had been promoted to First Class for this trip. Gerry knew they wouldn’t see much of each other, the Titanic being such a large ship, but they’d go for a few drinks in New York.
“Irish, you are coming in for the last pint, lad?”
Gerry turned at the sound of his nickname, the lads had given it to him for his shock of red hair. Jackson grinned out of the window of the public house. He was always late onto the ships, but he got away with it, due in part to his large size and his reputation for being good at his job.
“Not today, Jackson, got to be on time for the new ship.”
“Come on, Irish, I’ll stand you a whiskey.”
Tempted, Gerry was about to join them when he spotted more of the stokers up ahead of him.
“Next time, Jackson, I got to see a man about a piece of gold.”
“Under the thumb already, lad, there’s no saving you now,” Jackson teased in his way. “Catch up with you later,” He shouted and disappeared.
Gerry strode, increasing his pace until he caught up with some other lads from the ship. They traded stories of their time ashore as they made their way to the docks.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, would you look at the size of her! We’ll never be able to find our way back out of her once we get on board.” The stoker rubbed his beard as they all stared at the ship.
“I thought there would be fanfares and such like.” The speaker sounded disappointed. “It’s her first trip, after all.”
“All that happened in Belfast. You know what those Paddies are like for their parties,” another man said. He shot a grin at Gerry.
Gerry paid no attention to the teasing, he knew it was par for the course and not meant in a bad way. They nodded at the Sixth Officer, Moody, as they walked up the gangway, their papers having been checked thoroughly and, with one last look at the sky went below.
“Where're our berths?” Gerry asked someone who seemed to know where he was going. The ship was so big, he could well imagine getting lost.
“We’re staying in First Class, Irish. Didn’t you hear?” one of the stokers teased him.
“As if. The black gang is always in the bottom. You couldn’t possibly risk upsetting someone’s little princess by bumping into them, could you?” another man said.
“I know what I’d like to do to some of those women in the First Class. Do you see their clothes and skin? They look so soft and -”
“That’s enough out of you. Show some respect for your betters,” an officer reprimanded the fireman. Firemen, greasers, and trimmers are quartered in the bow.” The officer cleared his throat. “D through G deck – go down there,” the officer pointed at a companionway, “you’ll find it eventually. If you land in the sea you have gone too far.”
Gerry followed his advice, hoping the man hadn’t been making fun of him and his friends. Tensions were high on the docks due to the coal strike. Thousands were out of work. Gerry and his colleagues were lucky to get work on the Titanic. There were some who felt only British crew members should be on board, not Irish Catholics. He hoped his chief wasn’t one of them.
But the directions were good, and he found his bed in a cabin filled with the rest of the crew.
“Not much room to swing a cat in here, eh, Gerry?”
“Did you bring a cat?”
“Och, now, I was just saying,” the Scottish hand responded but Gerry was already on his way out the door. He had to report for the first shift.
About noon, the whistle blew for friends of those traveling to go ashore.
“Won’t be long now,” Fireman Barrett said to his crew. “Get those furnaces nice and hot.”
“Yes, sir.” The men responded as one.
Gerry shoveled the coal faster. Barrett would pick up a shovel and help if needed.
“Did you hear he’s taken a berth with the rest of us?” one of the stokers said.
Gerry shook his head. The man didn’t take the hint.
“I like him. He’s still one of us even though he’s a leading fireman. Cares about us, he does. Probably why the senior officers aren’t too fond of him.”
Gerry didn’t reply not wanting to get involved in gossip. He was saved by the arrival of a late crew member.
“Jackson and his gang can’t get on, that bloomin’ Sixth Officer, Moody won’t let them. I think his uniform has gone to his head,” one of the men came rushing down the stairs heading for Barrett.
“Slow down man, you aren’t making any sense,” Barrett replied.
“Sorry, sir. I just got on meself and then I heard shouts behind me. Jackson and the rest of the lads, came running up behind me with their kitbags slung over their shoulders but he, the Sixth Officer, said they were too late. He’d already pulled up the gangway. I heard Jackson shouting at him but even then he refused to move.”
Jackson being such a large man rarely had to raise his voice in order to get anyone to allow him to do anything.
“What happened?” Barrett asked.
“They left Jackson and the rest of the lads on shore. What will they do now?”
“Find another ship is my guess. Jackson won’t want to go home to his missus, she’ll kill him. Five kids to feed and another on the way,” Gerry said. Those around him nodded. Mrs. Jackson’s temper was legendary, with Jackson himself using her as the reason he spent so much time at sea.
“He must be gutted. Wouldn’t want to miss this trip would you Gerry?” one of the crew asked, “They will be talking about this in the history books, you mark my words. A ship this big has never sailed before.”
“Lads stop hanging around like a bevy of women after church. We got work to do,” Barrett shouted.
“What about the missing crew members?”
“We can pick up more at Queenstown if they are needed. Backs into it now, lads. We don’t want any more trouble today,” Barrett replied.
Warning bells rang almost immediately.
“What the blazes is wrong now?” someone shouted.
There was no answer just a series of orders from Barrett. Nobody spoke until they were out to sea.
“What happened when we left the dock?” Davy asked Barrett, who’d just come back down below.
Barret spoke through clenched teeth. “We almost collided with the SS New York.”
Gerry and the rest of the gang stared at their chief. Barrett didn’t look concerned.
“Forget it, lads. No harm done.”
“Chief, how did that happen?”
“Nothing happened, Davy, thanks to the quick actions of officers and crew on both ships. Get back to work.” Barrett walked away.
The men exchanged glances. A number crossed themselves. One spat on the floor. “A near collision is a bad omen for this voyage.”
A few of the men nodded in response to the man’s comment.
They’ll be going on about tea leaves and banshees next. Gerry knew seamen were superstitious, but they were making something out of nothing. “Stop behaving like a bunch of superstitious old women. You heard the chief. We’ve work to do.”
Gerry resumed shoveling and after a few seconds of griping, the men around him followed suit.
Chapter 8
Wednesday
,April 10th. Dublin
Delia gripped Conor’s arm as they tried to find the platform for the Queenstown train. The noise was deafening, the shrill whistles from guardsmen combating with the chatter from the crowds of people gathered on every platform.
Conor’s tall broad shoulders protected her from being buffeted by people desperate to secure their travel.
“I’m glad, I purchased the tickets in advance. Just look at those queues.”
Delia didn’t respond, not that he would have heard her over the noise.
“There’s our train. Come on, love. We don’t have much time.” Conor pulled her along with him. Delia had to run a little to keep up with his long strides.
It took a couple of minutes to find their seats. Delia sat beside the window with Conor beside her. Her husband stored their cases on the rack above their heads.
A couple of men sat down opposite them. “Afternoon, missus. The names John Taylor, and this is my brother, Brian. Are you traveling the whole way?”
Conor took Delia’s arm and tucked it into his. “Conor Brennan, and my wife, Delia. We are heading to America on the Titanic.”
Delia smiled to herself, hearing the pride in her husband’s voice. The Taylors grew more animated and soon the men were discussing the ship. Bored with the details, Delia gazed out the window. Her eyes kept closing, the sleepless night catching up on her.
Conor nudged her. “Wake up, darling. We’re here.”
Delia clung to Conor as the crowds of people threatened to overwhelm her.
“Do you know how to get to the hotel?”
“No. We will take a cab.”
Delia didn’t argue. Too tired to fight her way through the crowds, she was relieved to be traveling in style. The journey didn’t take long, soon the cabbie pulled up in front of a luxurious hotel.
Delia spoke softly so the driver wouldn’t hear her. “Conor, he must be mistaken. We can’t afford this.”
“No mistake, Delia. Have you got your bag?”
Delia showed him her bag, her eyes on the luxurious hotel. A doorman held the door while another took their bags from Conor.
“Stop worrying and enjoy yourself. Lady Fitzgerald wanted to surprise you.”
“Oh, she is such a dear lady,” Delia said as she surveyed the hotel. “She must have known rooms were going for premium rates. The whole of Ireland seems to have descended on Cobh. All these people can’t be traveling on the Titanic. Can they?”
The desk clerk looked up. “No, missus. We have a number of guests who only wish to see the ship for themselves. Our hotel will be empty again by Thursday. You benefited from the last available room.”
“Thank you,” Delia said. She glanced around her as Conor signed the register. Her feet sank into the carpet as she walked over to admire the flower arrangement sitting pride of place beside the front counter. She spotted a painting of Cobh Harbor on the wall. She turned to point it out to Conor, but he was in conversation with the desk clerk. Tired, Delia decided to sit down. Conor found her almost asleep.
“You can have a lie down if you like? Our room is ready.”
“I don’t want to miss a tiny detail of our trip. This place is amazing. Look at that painting.”
“Mrs. Fitzgerald said it would be best to hide in plain sight. Your aunt won’t think of looking for us here. I mean if she does find out,” Conor explained. His eyes looked everywhere but at her.
The hair on the back of her neck rose. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Let’s go to our room and I will explain.” Conor glanced toward the desk clerk who turned bright red. He had clearly been eavesdropping. The bell boy picked up their cases and led the way to their rooms. Conor tipped him a couple of coins, making Delia smile. Conor acted as if he stayed in nice hotels every day, rather than this being his first time.
When the bell boy had gone, Conor closed the door and led Delia to sit on the bed. He held her hand.
“There was a telegram at the front desk. Mrs. Fitzgerald sent it. Somehow your aunt found out we ran away together. She has sent someone to Southampton to bring you home.”
“She can’t force me to come back.”
“She can if she sends an armed man after you.”
“She wouldn’t.”
But even as she said the words, Delia knew her aunt would stop at nothing to get her own way. Conor put his arms around her as she gave way to shuddering sobs. She couldn’t wait to get on the Titanic and get away from her aunt’s hatred.
“Delia Brennan, I promise you, your aunt can’t hurt you now. We will soon be on the other side of the world. Too far away even for her to cause us any harm. Now come here, wife, and kiss me.”
She caught the look in his eyes, his passion for her making her heart beat faster. Closing her eyes, she raised her face for his kiss. He was right. They were married now, and nothing was going to tear them apart.
They didn’t leave the room for fear, Conor said, someone would recognize them.
“Sure, who would know us down here in Queenstown?” she teased him knowing right well why he wanted to stay indoors.
He nuzzled the side of her neck. “You never know, wife. It pays to be careful you know.”
They ordered room service and for the next few hours, it was as if only the two of them mattered. Then came morning and the day for sailing.
“Come on darling, wake up and get dressed. Our ship awaits.” Conor kissed her on the nose. “I am going downstairs to get the paper. I will be back shortly to escort you to our home for the next week. Imagine, Delia, in seven days’ time we will be in America.”
Delia just smiled. She didn’t care where they went so long as they were together. She thought she loved him before they got married but now, she couldn’t imagine ever living without him. For the first time, she could honestly say she understood her mother leaving everything behind for her da. She pitied her aunt for never having felt this way about anyone.
The crowds moving toward the dock area were daunting. It seemed like everyone in Ireland was traveling. She held tight to Conor’s hand as they moved forward, and soon they were on the tender taking them to RMS Titanic, anchored at the mouth of the harbor. It was bigger than anything she had ever seen, the four black funnels set against the clear sky.
“It would take a week to walk around the ship for sure,” she said to Conor.
“I heard it took some of the officers up to two weeks to learn all the shortcuts on board.” Conor looked up at it. “There was a fella in the hotel who said there was a priest who traveled over from Southampton. Took a lot of pictures of it. He’s been offered a fortune for them from the newspapers.”
“Why are all the lifeboats on that part of the ship?” Delia pointed to the boat deck. She only spotted the crewmember after she spoke.
“We’re unsinkable, missus. Don’t be worrying your pretty little head about no lifeboats.”
He moved away before Delia could respond. She stared out at the ocean. Conor put his arm around her waist. Delia leaned into his body. She couldn’t speak. She was torn. Much as she never wanted to see her aunt again, Ireland was her home. It was hard saying goodbye.
Chapter 9
Thursday, April 11th. Queenstown, Cork.
F inally, after a long train journey, Kate, Cathy, and their party arrived in Queenstown. It was after noon when the Titanic arrived putting down anchor at the harbor mouth. She was every bit as huge as the men had said she’d be, too big to come right into the dock. To Kate, the ship looked like a big Island.
Daniel’s eyes widened as he stared at the Titanic. “Isn’t she the most beautiful thing you ever saw?”
Kate didn’t comment, she wanted to turn and run back to Granny Nell. She had a horrible feeling about this ship, her mind going back to the peddler woman who had told their fortunes at the fair last summer. She had read the tea leaves and told herself and Cathy, a great tragedy would befall them. But when they had pressed for details the woman had crossed herself, refused
payment and to the astonishment of the crowd waiting to hear their fortunes, had refused to read any more leaves. Nell had dismissed her as a fraud, but Kate wasn’t too sure. She’d seen the look of terror in the woman’s eyes. Nobody was that good an actor. Shivering, she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders.
“Isn’t it great they provide the meals onboard. If we had gone on another ship, we would have had to bring our own food.”
Kate didn’t reply to Daniel’s running commentary. She guessed he didn’t need her to as he didn’t stop talking. Maybe he was nervous, too, and this was his way of hiding it. She glanced at his face, but his eyes were bright, full of excitement. She looked away not wanting him to see the fear in hers.
Then someone in the crowd screamed. She took a step back, but Daniel grabbed her hand. She had seen it too. A head appeared out of one of the ship’s four funnels.
“Tis nothing, Kate. Some eejit of a crew member trying to frighten us is all,” he whispered close to her ear. She barely heard him over the roars of the crowd. She had never seen anything like it. The whole of County Cork, seemed to have gathered to see the Titanic. Surely all these people couldn’t be sailing. There wouldn’t be any room on the ship for everyone.
“Come on,” Daniel said. “The tenders won’t wait.”
Kate stared at Daniel in horror. She didn’t want to travel in a small boat. There were two of them, called PS America and PS Ireland. A lad, she later learned was named, Eugene Daly, played the pipes as the tender sailed out to it. The crowd at the jetty sang along to the rebel song, a Nation Once Again. Kate glanced up, spotting the stony face of an RMS Titanic officer. His expression suggested he didn’t care for their choice of song. She opened her mouth and joined in. Ireland was her home, and this was the last time she would see it. So, what if an Englishman didn’t like their singing about the time when Ireland would belong to the Irish?
“’Tis an awful racket he be making. The officers won’t like it. Do you see their reaction?”
Kate turned to see who was talking and found a middle-aged woman staring back at her. The woman looked at Kate as if she was something she had trodden on. Kate found herself looking down at her clothes to make sure there wasn’t a lump of mud or a batch of hay making her look dirty. When she looked up again, the woman was giving another lady the same evil looks.
Heart of Disaster: A Titanic Novel of love and loss Page 3