The Girl Who Came Home - a Titanic Novel

by Hazel Gaynor

  ‘…hard-a-starboard….iceberg….reversed the engines….taking in water…’

  Taking in water?

  Hardly able to comprehend what he was hearing, Harry carried on along the corridor, unnoticed among the anxious faces and hushed conversations and orders. He pushed open the Marconi room door. Bride and the other radio operator, Phillips, were both huddled over the radio equipment.

  ‘Oi, Bride,’ he whispered.

  The two operators turned around.

  ‘For crying out loud Walsh, what now?’ Harry could see from the look on Bride’s face that something was happening.

  ‘I felt the judder. The engines have stopped. What’s happening?’

  Bride and Philips looked at each other. It was Philips who spoke. ‘We hit an iceberg. There’s damage to the starboard side below the waterline. She’s taking in water. We’re radioing for help. Captain Smith’s orders.’

  ‘Radioing for help? It isn’t bad is it? Surely they can close the watertight compartments?’

  The three men stared at each other then, the crackle from the receivers the only sound in the small room. The look of latent fear on their faces told Harry everything he needed to know. He nodded and walked slowly from the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Almost in a daze, he wandered out onto the deck. Already there was a crowd of passengers out there, first class Harry presumed, judging by their formal dinner wear. They were mostly gathered around the starboard side of the ship, some leaning over the side, others staring at the gigantic mass of ice which towered a little way in the distance behind the ship. It was a truly terrifying thing to behold.

  Harry had never seen a real iceberg before. He’d seen them in picture books and encyclopaedias as a child, marvelling at these gigantic blocks of ice which glistened like turquoise jewels against the brilliant blue seas of the Arctic and Antarctic. He remembered being fascinated by them as a child, wondering how ice could possibly turn blue and questioning his father endlessly about how cold they would feel to touch and how they were made and whether it was true that the iceberg you can see is only a part of the entire thing. He remembered his father laughing at his inquisitive nature. ‘There’s a saying son: ‘the tip of the iceberg’, which means you’re only just seeing the beginning of something. If you saw an iceberg that was a hundred feet tall, there would be six or seven hundred feet more under the sea.’ He’d thought his father was joking, didn’t believe him.

  Staring now at this ice giant, which bore no resemblance to those of his childhood picture books and encyclopaedias, he wondered what his father would say. Far from being a glittering jewel, this iceberg was a chilling sight, looming dark and ominous from the black sea below; the mass of the entire thing almost unfathomable.

  He shivered and drew his thin jacket around his shoulders, wrapping his arms around himself to try and retain some warmth in his body.

  He heard children laughing and turned. Just behind him, huge lumps of ice which had been knocked off the berg lay on the deck. A group of young boys pushed them backwards and forwards to each other, watching them slip and slither across the polished wooden planks, their breaths of laughter caught in a fine mist before dispersing into the freezing night air. It was a bizarre sight, a surreal moment which Harry seemed unable to tear his eyes away from.

  ‘Must be a hundred feet tall that.’ His thoughts were disturbed by a well-dressed gentleman in full, formal dinner dress who had had appeared at his side, gazing at the spectacle of the iceberg. ‘I hear the ship glanced off the side of it,’ the man continued. ‘No significant damage though. Just as well we were aboard the mighty Titanic hey! That berg could have easily sunk a smaller ship.’ He laughed to himself then and pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe his spectacles which had misted up in the cold.

  ‘But, I hear that she is taking on water sir.’ Harry was hesitant, not wishing to cause a panic, but unable to leave this man without telling him the truth of the matter.

  ‘Really? Ah well, a bit of water won’t bother a ship like this. They’ll pump it out lad and we’ll be on our way. Mark my words.’ He coughed slightly against the cold. ‘Well, I don’t know about you young man, but I think I’d rather finish my brandy than stand out here freezing to death. Good evening to you.’ He tipped his hat then and went inside. ‘Good evening to you sir.’

  Harry stood for a few moments longer, observing the normality going on around him. The look on Bride and Philips’ faces had told him everything. Titanic wasn’t just taking on water, she was sinking and they were radioing for help. As he watched, more and more finely dressed passengers appeared on deck, interested to see the iceberg for themselves. He recognised the silent movie actress whose dog he had walked that first day aboard.

  ‘We were playing bridge,’ he heard her say to a colleague, ‘and then all this commotion occurred on deck so we came out to see what all the fuss was about. I see now it is only a bit of ice. I’ve seen bigger lumps in my gin and tonic! Come along ladies, let’s go back in. It’s freezing out here.’

  He remembered seeing her earlier that day, while he and the Irish girls had crept up the ladder and spied on the upper deck. It suddenly occurred to Harry that while these passengers were joking about the ice and returning to the warming blaze of the fires to finish their nightcaps, Peggy and Maggie and Katie and all the other passengers down in steerage would have no clue as to what was happening. It was also their cabins which would be closest to the damage.

  As he turned to make his way back down to E deck to tell them what was happening, he passed a crewmember who was starting to uncover the tarpaulin from one of the lifeboats. ‘Excuse me sir?’

  ‘What is it boy?’ the officer snapped, working the ropes as quickly as he could, frozen as they were with the cold and his numbed fingers unable to grasp the fastenings.

  ‘How long before she goes down?’

  The crewman stopped then and looked at him, shocked by the directness of his question. It was a look of absolute fear that chilled Harry to his core.

  ‘Two hours they say lad.’ He continued to fiddle with the lifeboat ties. ‘The nearest boat won’t be here for four,’ he added, unable to look Harry in the eyes.

  There was nothing else to say.

  Harry turned and ran as quickly as he could, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing, his mother’s words ringing in his ears, ‘and mind that you look after those third class passengers just the same as you would to any o’ those wealthy first class sorts.’

  He had to get to Peggy and the Irish girls. He had to get them to the lifeboats.

  PART IV

  Captain Smith SS Titanic: 'Anxiously awaiting information and probably disposition passengers. Franklin.'

  Marconigram message sent from Mr Franklin, The White Star Line to Captain Smith, The Titanic,

  15th April, 1912

  CHAPTER 22 - R.M.S Titanic, 14th April 1912

  ‘Peggy, Peggy, pssst, are ye awake?’

  Silence.

  ‘Katie. Katie Kenny. Aunt Kathleen?’

  Silence.

  Maggie sat up in her bed, stooping her head and shoulders so as not to hit off the low roof of the cabin. The electric lights had gone out. The darkness in the cabin was so intense she couldn’t see her own hand as she waved it now in front of her face. She could hear her blood pumping through her ears.

  ‘Psssst, wake up,’ she hissed into the black silence, raising her voice a little now. ‘Is anyone awake?’

  Her heart was pounding. She had never felt more alone in all her life. Terrified to try and climb down from her bed in such darkness she sat still, unable to ignore the sense of panic rising in her, the cold and adrenaline causing her to shiver in her thin nightdress.

  The lights flickered momentarily on and off again.

  She could hear running overhead.

  The baby started bawling in its suitcase in the cabin next door.

  She sat stone still, her ears straining to catch
any noise from the corridor outside the cabin; occasional shouts, thumping on doors, footsteps pounding. Her thoughts returned to Joseph Kenny’s tea leaves, Pat’s dropped sovereign and the strange man who had spoken to Peggy at Queenstown. Something was wrong. She was sure of it.

  The bang on the cabin door made her jump, knocking her head on the ceiling.

  ‘Peggy. Maggie. You in there? It’s me. Harry.’

  There was an urgency to Harry’s voice, an edge which Maggie didn’t like.

  ‘What the feck was that?’ The bang on the door had woken Peggy.

  ‘Peggy, thanks be to God….’

  Another bang on the door.

  ‘Girls, you in there?’

  ‘Harry, yes, yes,’ Maggie was shouting now. ‘We’re here.’

  ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Maggie Murphy, what the devil has you shoutin’ in the middle of the night? What time is it? Who turned off the lights?’

  Kathleen was awake now, followed shortly by Katie who rubbed her eyes sleepily as the lights flickered and, much to Maggie’s relief, stayed on.

  ‘Oh, thank the Lord,’ she exclaimed, shouting to Harry, ‘I’m coming,’ as she climbed as quickly as she could down the steps at the side of the bunk bed to the floor. Walking the few steps to the door, she flung it open to reveal Harry standing in the corridor, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath.

  Maggie shook physically, whether with the cold or anxiety she wasn’t sure, as she squinted against the glare of the brightly-lit corridor. ‘Harry. What is it? What’s wrong? Why have we stopped?’ She was shocked by the look of dread and anxiety on Harry’s usually smiling, relaxed face.

  By now the three other women in the room were sitting up in their beds, their blankets wrapped around them against the cold, leaning out to hear what Maggie was saying.

  ‘Stopped?’ Kathleen exclaimed. ‘We’ve stopped?’

  Maggie turned to her aunt. ‘Yes. Did ye not feel the shuddering? The lights have been off. I was callin’ but none of ye would wake.’ She turned back to Harry then, looking at him seriously, intensely as another steward ran along the corridor behind him. ‘Harry?’

  ‘You need to go up,’ he announced slowly, trying to regulate his breathing and lowering his voice, not wanting to cause a panic. ‘There’s a problem with the ship and you need to go up now. Y’know. To the lifeboats.’

  Maggie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Lifeboats?’ She said this louder than she’d intended to; loud enough for the others in the cabin to hear. ‘I thought they’d maybe run out of coal for the boilers or hit a whale, but…..lifeboats? What’s after happenin’?’

  ‘What’s that y’re sayin’ about lifeboats?’ Peggy had joined Maggie and Harry at the door.

  Harry looked at the two girls wondering how much to tell them. Wondering what the words he was about to say would mean for their plans of a life in America; what they would mean for their lives full stop. It was as if everything had suddenly changed for all of them, for everyone on this ship. ‘They’ve hit an iceberg.’ He closed his eyes briefly, unable to look directly at these two girls who he’d shared such fun with in the few, brief days they’d known each other. He felt as if this were somehow all his fault.

  ‘An iceberg?’

  ‘Yes Peggy. And it’s done plenty of damage by all accounts. The ship’s taking on water.’

  He continued to tell them everything in a rush, suddenly relieved to be able to share his knowledge. ‘You’ve got to go to the upper decks straightaway - and put on your life jackets. It isn’t safe to stay here girls. Honestly, you have to believe me. I heard the Officers themselves saying. There’s ice all over the decks up there and you should see the iceberg, it’s as big as a mountain and….’

  ‘You can still see the iceberg?!’

  ‘Peggy, be quiet now.’ Kathleen was up and had heard every word Harry had said. ‘How bad is it?’ she asked, pushing her way in front of the girls to talk to him directly, her blanket wrapped around her to hide her modesty from the young man. ‘How bad is the damage? Will the ship go down?’

  ‘Go down?’ Peggy was horrified by what she was hearing. ‘But this ship’s unsinkable. I read it in the adverts in the papers.’

  Ignoring Peggy, Harry responded to Kathleen’s questions as he knew she needed him to, with stark, honest facts. ‘It’s the starboard side Miss. Too many of the watertight compartments are damaged. I heard someone say two hours.’

  Kathleen listened and nodded calmly. ‘Thank you. For coming to alert us. It was very good of you, sure it was.’

  Putting her shoes onto her bare feet and grabbing her coat, Kathleen turned then to the three girls. ‘I must go and tell the others. Wait for me here. I won’t be long.’ There was a certainty to Kathleen’s voice which Maggie had heard many times in her life, most recently on the morning just four days ago when they’d left Ballysheen. ‘It is time,’ she’d said, the words sending a shiver down Maggie’s spine with their finality and purpose. It was the same finality and purpose she heard in her aunt’s voice now. ‘Gather your things together and be ready to head up on deck as soon as I get back.’

  She turned then and Maggie watched her stride purposefully along the corridor. It struck her how less imposing she looked in just her nightdress and coat. No swishing, fashionable skirts. No carefully styled hair. She looked, for the first time in Maggie’s life, like the middle-aged woman she was. The vulnerability frightened her.

  ‘Girls, listen.’ Harry stepped into the cabin, pushing the door almost closed behind him. The three girls huddled around him, all previous thoughts of flirting and playfulness gone from their minds. ‘This is really serious. The ship is going to sink and the nearest boat is too far away.’ The girls stood in shocked silence. ‘As soon as she comes back,’ he added, nodding in the direction Kathleen had just gone, ‘make sure you go up to the decks straightaway. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes Harry.’ Maggie spoke, barely a whisper escaping from her terrified voice. ‘We understand. Will ye be goin’ to tell the others so? There’s a family of nine in the cabin next to us and they’ve a small baby.’ He nodded. ‘It sleeps in a suitcase,’ she added, a fact which had troubled her every night, especially since she’d seen the opulence in which the First Class passenger’s lived on board this ship.

  Harry turned to walk out, pausing for a moment as if wanting to say something else. He looked at Peggy. She returned his gaze. There was an unspoken understanding between them, even though neither one of them spoke a word.

  With Kathleen gone and the sounds of Harry pounding on the door of the cabin next to theirs, and then the next and the next, the three girls sat together on Katie’s bed trying to take in what they had heard, the unspoken recollections of predictions in the tealeaves and of strangers in railway stations hanging ominously in the air between them.

  Peggy spoke first. ‘Well, let’s be gettin’ our things ready then girls. Kathleen will be back soon with the others and then we’ll all be wantin’ to go up them stairs to the decks.’

  ‘They’ll have opened the gates won’t they?’ Katie’s question was left unanswered. None of them knew. ‘Well, maybe we should say a prayer first,’ she suggested. ‘Y’know, for all our safety like.’

  They looked at each other and nodded in agreement. Maggie grabbed the rosary beads which Séamus had given her as a parting gift and together the three girls sat on the bed, the White Star Line blankets they had admired so much when they first saw them, wrapped now around their shoulders for warmth. They recited their Hail Mary’s with more sincerity than they had ever recited them in their lives.

  Their prayers complete they sat in silence, holding each other’s hands, afraid to let go.

  Harry ran from cabin to cabin, pounding on the doors until they were opened and telling the occupants that they needed to put on their life vests and make their way to the upper decks straightaway. Other crewmen and stewards were doing the same.

  Many of the occupants couldn’t und
erstand what he was saying, throwing their hands upwards and speaking in a foreign language to the others in the cabin. Those he did manage to rouse barely took him seriously at all, assuming it was the drill which had been cancelled earlier that day and nodding that they would do as he said, but then returning to their beds. Others never even responded to the banging on the door, too stupefied from a night of drinking in the bar to hear him or any of the commotion which was now building in the corridors along from cabin 115.

  After rushing around the cabins for forty minutes or more, getting occasionally lost still among the endless maze of corridors and companionways, Harry noticed a definite list in the ship, having to walk up an incline as he made his way along Scotland Road and using the walls on either side of him for balance. He was relieved to bump into his friend Billy.

  ‘Christ mate. Have you heard? We’re bloody sinking.’

  ‘Y’don’t say. She’s almost totally underwater in the first five compartments. Christ only knows what’s gone on in the boiler rooms. They’ve closed the watertight doors – with the men still inside I reckon. There’s men down there trying to keep the generators going so as we’ve some light to watch ourselves drown by.’

  ‘Christ Billy, don’t. It’s fuckin’ terrifyin’. Did y’see the size of that iceberg?’

  ‘Yeah. I went up. There’s fella’s up there drinking their brandy’s being serenaded by the violinists. You’d think it was a special bleedin’ iceberg cruise or somethin’. There’s a whole gang of Irish in the dining room. Have you seen them? Some are already at the booze and others are sittin’ around prayin’ with those beads they have – fat lot of use they’ll do ‘em at the bottom of the ocean. Captain Smith’s ordered the lifeboats to be swung out.’

  Something within Harry sensed that he needed to go to the dining room. ‘Right, keep banging on the doors and waking people up. I’m going to the dining room to shift everyone up the stairs.’ He started to make his way back along the corridor. ‘Oi. Billy,’ he called back to his friend. ‘I’ll see you up there. Right?’