by Judi Curtin
After a while she said, ‘This is the harbour.’
But how could this be the harbour? Where were the scurrying crowds? Where were the people pushing and shoving? Why was everything so clean and calm and quiet?
‘But everything has changed,’ I said, without thinking.
Mum put her arm round me. ‘Of course it’s changed,’ she said. ‘Everything changes with time. But I don’t know how you could know – you’ve never been to Cobh before.’
I didn’t answer. I could hardly say that Saturn and I had been there a few days, or a few decades before, depending on which way you chose to look at it.
We found an Italian restaurant and I pretended that I cared about any of the food on the menu. When my giant pizza arrived, I said ‘wow’, as convincingly as I could manage. During the meal, Mum and Tilly did most of the talking and I pretended to listen, like I was interested in a single word they had to say.
After lunch the three of us stood outside the restaurant.
‘Well, girls,’ said Mum. ‘We have a few hours before Susan is expecting us. What do you want to do?’
‘Go shopping and then go to the beach,’ said Tilly.
‘Go to the Titanic exhibition,’ I said at the same time.
Mum and Tilly exchanged looks.
I’m not an expert on meaningful looks, but I was fairly sure it was a Let’s-pretend-not-to-notice-when-Lauren-does-something-strange look.
I was wondering how I was going to explain my sudden interest in history, when Mum rescued me.
‘How about we go to the Titanic exhibition and then to the beach?’ she said, and no one could argue with that perfectly reasonable suggestion.
Mum and Tilly found the Titanic exhibition very interesting – for about five minutes.
‘This place is OK,’ said Tilly. ‘But it’s not half as good as the movie. This is basically just a lot of pictures of an old ship that sank.’
‘But think about all the poor people who died,’ I said. ‘Think of all the lives that were ruined. They were all real people with hopes and dreams – just like us.’
‘Yeah, but that’s ancient history,’ said Tilly. ‘Why should we care?’
‘It’s …’ I started to say, but then I stopped. How could I even begin to explain the truth?
The sun was streaming through the windows. We were supposed to be on holiday and I knew I was being unfair.
‘I know you’ve both seen enough of this place,’ I said.
‘How did you guess?’ asked Tilly, yawning theatrically.
‘Call it intuition,’ I replied. ‘Anyway, I’d love another bit of time here. Why don’t you two go ahead and find a nice ice-cream shop and I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes?’
‘Are you sure?’ said Mum uncertainly.
I nodded. ‘Sure I’m sure.’ I patted my jeans pocket. ‘I’ve got my phone and I’ll call you if I need you.’
So they went off and at last I was free to explore my strange, mixed-up past.
The room was small, but there were heaps of photographs of the Titanic. I examined each one like it might contain the secrets of the universe.
It was totally weird, looking at the faded black-and-white photos of what I had seen in such vivid colour only a few days before. The clothes of the women in First Class, which had been every shade from blue to orange to green, were now all turned to varying shades of black and white and grey.
There were lots of pictures of people in groups, but none of them included Mary or her mother or her cute little brother.
None of them included me.
I gasped as I came to the picture of the ship’s captain. There he stood, all proud in his uniform. He looked cross and stern, but I remembered how he had been kind to me. He hadn’t listened, but he had been nice in a funny, gruff way. I wondered if he remembered me when the ship began to go down?
Besides the photographs, there wasn’t a whole lot to look at. There were a few letters, and five or six yellowing newspaper articles, and a single dinner menu saying RMS TITANIC in fading gold letters.
Why hadn’t I filled my pockets with stuff, that last night on board the ship? I could have kept all kinds of interesting things that would have livened up this museum. But it’s funny how you don’t think of things like that when you are trying to save your life.
I wandered around for ages. I’m not sure what I was looking for, but I was sure I hadn’t found it. I had the guilty thought that I was wrecking Mum and Tilly’s afternoon for nothing.
It was time for me to give up on my strange yearning for the past and get back to the real world.
As I headed for the exit I noticed a rocking chair, with a model of an ancient old woman sitting in it.
Was she supposed to represent one of the Titanic passengers? If so, her clothes didn’t look right. Maybe I should tell the museum people that no one on the Titanic had dressed like that.
I walked up to take a closer look at the model, and jumped when it moved.
‘OMIGOD,’ I shrieked. ‘You’re alive!’
‘Well, I certainly hope so,’ she said.
My heart was beating so fast I had to sit down before I fell down. Luckily there was a bench right next to us. As I recovered myself, I noticed that the woman was wearing an official-looking badge saying – TITANIC EXHIBITION.
She smiled. ‘I’ve been watching you,’ she said. ‘We don’t often get visitors who are as interested as you are. It’s nice to see someone who looks as if she cares.’
‘The Titanic is kind of like my specialist subject,’ I said.
The woman looked impressed. ‘And have you had that special interest in the Titanic for a long time?’
Well, ever since I found myself on it, actually.
She seemed to be waiting for a real answer. ‘Well … since forever, really,’ I said.
‘That’s nice,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Lauren.’
‘Well, well, what a funny coincidence. My name is Lauren too.’
‘But …’ I didn’t know how to go on without sounding rude.
‘I know. It’s not an old woman’s name. My mother loved it, though. She called me after a girl she knew long before I was born. She always used to say, “Lauren, I’ve given you the name of the girl who saved my life”.’
I noticed that my breathing was speeding up. I felt slightly dizzy.
‘What was your mother’s name?’ I asked faintly.
She laughed. ‘My mother had the most popular name for girls at the time. Maybe that’s why she gave me an unusual name. Being called Lauren was a bit inconvenient at times, I can tell you. No one ever knew how to spell it. Things are different now, since the name has become so popular, but back then –’
‘And your mother’s name was … ?’ I interrupted.
‘Oh,’ she said, looking embarrassed. ‘I was rambling on a bit there – sorry. My mother’s name was Mary.’
I was aware of my heart thumping in my chest. Was this a wild coincidence or was my imagination running ahead of me in huge leaps and bounds?
‘Er … was your mother … was she … I mean … did she … ?’
Lauren was waiting patiently for me to finish my sentence, but I couldn’t do it. The words were just too hard.
She gave up waiting – time is probably precious when you get to her age. ‘My mother was on the Titanic, you know,’ she said. ‘That’s why I’m so interested in the whole subject. That’s why I came to live in Ireland as soon as I retired.’
I put my hand on the edge of the seat to steady myself. ‘And your mother … was she on her own on the Titanic?’
‘Oh no. She was much too young to travel on her own. She was only a girl at the time.’
I’m only a girl and I was on the Titanic on my own.
Lauren continued. ‘She was with her mother and her baby brother.’
‘Baba.’
Now Lauren gave me a very strange look. ‘He was christened Kevin, but the family always called him Baba, but I don’t know how you could possibly know that.’
‘Lucky guess,’ I said weakly.
I thought of Baba’s gummy smile and his gurgly laugh.
‘And did they all … ?’
Lauren smiled. ‘Oh, they all survived. They were very lucky.’
‘And did your mother ever tell you how they survived?’
Lauren shook her head slowly. ‘My mother never would talk about it. I think a lot of the Titanic survivors were like that. It was a horrific experience and they just wanted to forget.’
‘So you’ve no idea how …?’
‘How they managed to get off the boat, when so many of the other passengers died?’
I nodded.
‘I’ve always thought that it must be something to do with that girl Lauren. It makes sense, after all, since my mother said that Lauren saved her life. But no matter how often I asked her, she’d just smile and say, “It’s all in the past. I’m glad I got a second chance at life”.’
She gave a big sigh. ‘When I was a little girl, I used to wish that I could meet that first Lauren. I had this crazy dream that one day I could travel back in time, so I could talk to her for a few minutes.’
‘Be careful what you wish for,’ I muttered.
She didn’t hear me.
‘I’m never going to meet her now,’ she continued. ‘She must have died years ago.’
Well, actually, no. I’m alive and well and standing in front of you.
But how could I say that? How weird would that be?
And speaking of weird, how come Mary was still a young girl, in my mind, while her daughter was already an old lady?
Then I remembered something else. ‘When your mother grew up – did she get to design hats?’
Now Lauren looked even closer at me.
‘What funny questions you ask,’ she said. ‘You’re a strange little girl. Has anyone ever told you that before?’
I shook my head. No one ever told me that before, because, until recently I was a very ordinary girl, not some weirdo who goes around asking questions about stuff that happened a few life-times ago.
‘But what about the hats?’ I prompted her.
Lauren smiled. ‘My mother told me once that her childhood dream was to become a hat designer.’
‘And?’
‘Well, sometimes childhood dreams are just that – dreams. My mother married young and then stayed at home with us kids – there were five of us. Then, when we were all grown up, she went back to school and trained as a doctor. When my father died, she went to Africa and worked in a hospital that helped children who were in danger of going blind. She saved hundreds of children from a life of complete darkness. The government gave her a big reward in recognition of what she had done.’
‘You must have been very proud of her,’ I said.
Lauren smiled again. ‘I was. My mother loved helping people. She did a lot of good in her life.’
‘And is she … ?’ I couldn’t finish the question, but Lauren was getting good at understanding my half-questions.
‘My mother had a long life,’ she said. ‘She died when she was eighty-five.’
I did a quick sum in my head. That would have been before I was even born.
‘And was she happy?’
Lauren didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes. She was the happiest woman I ever knew. And know what?’
‘What?’
‘She always wore the prettiest hats. She trimmed all of her hats with lace and feathers and pearls. “A lady is never fully dressed without a hat,” she used to say.’
I knew from the Internet that most of the Third-Class passengers on the Titanic died, but Mary and her family had survived. And maybe, just maybe, it was all because of me.
It was time for me to go. I stood up and put out my hand, ready to shake Lauren’s, just as I had done with her mother, days or decades ago.
Lauren leaned forward to take my hand and for the first time I could see the silver charm that was dangling from a chain round her neck.
‘What’s that round your neck?’
Lauren beamed. ‘It’s pretty, isn’t it? It was my mother’s.’
I know that already – I’m the one who gave it to her.
Lauren twisted the charm thoughtfully.
‘It says –’
‘Friends Forever.’ I finished the sentence for her and she gave me yet another strange look.
‘When I was growing up, this was most unusual,’ she said. ‘Everyone used to comment on it. But now, all of a sudden, this kind of thing is the height of fashion. Funny, isn’t it? Maybe some jewellery designer noticed me wearing this sometime and copied it.’
‘Maybe,’ I said with a vague smile.
I shook Lauren’s old hand in mine and then I turned and headed for the door.
‘Wait.’
I turned to see her hurrying towards me. She was holding something small in her hand. ‘I see you collect charms,’ she said.
‘I do, but …’
She put the small metal object into my hand and I saw that it was a tiny ship.
‘The Titanic,’ she said. ‘It’s a perfect replica. It’s the only one left over from a promotion we were doing last week, and I’d like you to have it.’
‘But why –’
‘Because if I don’t give it to you, it will probably end up being given to the very spoiled child of the museum manager. And …’
She hesitated and I watched as a dreamy look came over her face.
‘And?’ I prompted.
‘Because giving it to you feels right in a way that I can’t, for the life of me, understand.’
There were a lot of things I didn’t understand, either.
I looked at the tiny ship in my hand.
‘It will look nice on your charm bracelet,’ said Lauren.
‘It will look perfect!’ I said.
And we both smiled.
*
There was a low wall outside the museum and I sat there for a minute, enjoying the sunshine and trying to gather my thoughts.
Pictures of Mary and Mikey raced through my head. Mikey got the big family he had dreamed of, and Mary got all she wished for in America.
Then a very strange thought struck me.
What if Betsy hadn’t given me her cat?
What if Mikey had insisted on doing his jobs, and hadn’t brought me to Queenstown that afternoon?
What if Ernestine hadn’t put Saturn into her basket?
I would never have been on the Titanic. So what would have happened to Mary? What would have happened to all the little children whose sight she saved? How could those small acts have changed so many lives?
I wasn’t sure I fully understood what had happened to me, but all of a sudden I felt happier than I had in a long time. It was as if the dark cloud that had been following me around for days had floated far away. A warm, happy feeling washed over me and I started to laugh.
I found Mum and Tilly sitting outside a small cafe.
‘Everything OK?’ asked Mum as I approached.
I gave her a big grin.
‘Everything’s perfect,’ I said, feeling very guilty at how happy those words seemed to make her.
I raised my arm to show her my bracelet.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘There was a really nice woman in there and she gave me a present of a Titanic charm.’
Mum shook her head. ‘You and your charms,’ she said. ‘Soon that bracelet will be too heavy for you to wear.’
Something in her eyes made me feel sad. I knew she was glad to be teasing me about jewellery instead of listening to me fretting about museums and falling-down houses and dreams that couldn’t possibly be true.
Tilly was just finishing an ice cream. ‘Sorry, Lauren,’ she said. ‘This was meant for you – but it was melting.’
I watched as Tilly delicately licked the last traces of ice cream from the spoon and I suddenly remembered the day, weeks earlier, when she and I had been eating ice creams in my back garden. The day I had dreamed of making a difference to the world.
And in a very roundabout way, my dream had come true.
Tilly looked up and noticed me watching her.
‘What?’ she asked.
I hesitated. I wasn’t ready to tell her the whole story just yet.
‘What?’ she asked again.
‘Oh, nothing,’ I said. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘So we can go to the beach now?’ asked Tilly, jumping up from her seat.
I nodded. ‘Bring it on.’