I felt my heart flip inside my chest. Could this be my chance to get away to America? I’d secretly hoped for such a chance for years. There was nothing for me in Kilcross and, truthfully, Ma was beginning to suffocate me. I wasn’t a good scholar and I didn’t have many choices. But surely I could teach a young girl something useful.
‘Wait now till you hear this.’ Ma pointed to the money. ‘He’s enclosed the money to buy a first-class ticket on the Titanic, which he says is being built in Belfast. It’s due to sail next April.’
Ma was breathless now as she picked up the strange-looking bills and threw them down on the table again in triumph. ‘He says ’twas Mary insisted ye travel first-class since ye’d be doing her the biggest favour in the world coming to look after her child.’ Ma pursed her lips. ‘He must be swimming in money, so.’ She turned to me. ‘What do you think of that now?’
For once I was as speechless as Da. Surely Ma would pick me to go. But, for the first time in memory, my confidence deserted me. What if she didn’t? What if she picked Delia instead? After all, she’d made no secret of wanting to be rid of her. Maybe she wouldn’t want me going so far away since she was so dependent on me for company. I held my breath and waited for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally, Ma grinned. ‘Ah, you should see the look on your face, darlin’,’ she said. ‘And who do you think I’d be sending? Not that sister of yours!’
As I was letting Ma’s words sink in, I noticed Da looking off towards the door. I turned just in time to see Delia’s back as she slipped out into the hallway.
DELIA
Islid down on the floor in the corner of the attic, closed my eyes and rested my head on my knees. I wanted to cry, but no tears would come. It was no surprise, I thought, that Ma would pick Nora. Nora was bright-eyed and cheerful, dark-haired and buxom, and sure of her place in the world. In contrast, I was of slight build, with fair hair and grey eyes. I always shrank away when I was beside Nora, believing no one would ever look at me twice while she was there. Of course Nora was the better choice to take on the challenge of America.
What hurt was that I had finally held the possibility of escape in my very hands only to have it snatched away. It caught me by surprise that I should be so disappointed when there had never really been any hope that one day I would see those faraway places I read about in my books. Maybe the arrival of the letter had made me face up to how much I really wanted to get away and live my own life. But how? I took in sewing from time to time but given the little money I made from that it would be a hundred years before I could afford to move to Dublin, let alone New York.
I ran away once when I was fifteen. I got a lift with a local farmer as far as Donegal Town and was lingering at the station wondering how I would get money for the train to Dublin when Da appeared. He said nothing, just lifted my suitcase and walked away. We drove home in the pony and cart in silence. Ma said he should have let me go.
There were few jobs to be had in Kilcross for which I was qualified. I couldn’t even get a job serving in a shop because of my stutter. That was why, after I left school, I went back to the farm. As I was free all day, Da gave me more jobs than before. Soon I was helping him sow and harvest the crops and cutting turf beside him on the bog with a two-sided spade, called a slane. But much as I loved the outdoors and Da’s company, I had begun to realize that it was time to leave.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. I stiffened. No one ever came up here. It was my bedroom, my safe place. The door creaked open and there stood Da. He hesitated for a second, but then bent over to enter through the small opening. When he straightened up in the tiny room, he looked like a giant in a fairy tale.
I waited, saying nothing. He stood in the middle of the room, shuffling uncomfortably. Then he cleared his throat.
‘’Tis sorry I am,’ he said at last.
I pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about.
‘For what?’
‘For your sadness. I could see it on your face when your ma told Nora she’d be the one to go.’
These were the most words he had said to me in a long time. I wanted to ignore him, but I could see the effort it was taking for him to talk and my heart softened.
‘It doesn’t matter, Da,’ I whispered, even though everything in me wanted to shout that it did matter, that I wanted this more than anything in my whole life.
He moved a little closer. I noticed, for the first time, that his boots were cracked and caked with dirt. His trousers were rolled up at the ankles and tied with string. As my eyes travelled up, I saw the stained old jacket that he seemed to have worn for as long as I could remember. My gaze lingered on his face. His eyes were sad and watery and the same grey as my own. I realized then that I had never really seen my da, and my heart lurched. I rose to my feet and hugged him, something I hadn’t done since I was a child.
‘Do you want to go?’
I nodded my head.
‘Aye, Da, I do. More than anything else in the world.’ I paused, and all my repressed anger finally erupted. ‘I do want to go! I want to get away from the misery I’ve suffered here. I want to be free to live my life without being criticized at every turn. I want adventures and, yes, maybe even love. Why can’t I be loved, Da? Don’t I deserve it like anybody else?’
‘I love you, daughter,’ he whispered.
I looked up in astonishment. I’d always known that he loved me, but to hear him say it . . . I wanted to throw my arms around him. But my despair returned.
‘What’s the use in talking about it, Da? This will be like everything else – Nora will get what she wants and, as usual, I’ll get nothing!’
He dug his hands into his jacket pockets and nodded his head.
‘Maybe so,’ he said. ‘But what if I found a way for you to go, daughter. Would you want it?’
‘Yes,’ I cried. ‘Yes!’
‘That’s the answer then, so,’ he said, and turned towards the door.
I wanted to cry out after him, ‘Why are you doing this, Da? Why are you torturing me with the hope of it?’ but I kept silent.
I thought nothing more of it. For the next week I went about my business on the farm and Da went back to his usual silence. Then, one day, he came over to where I sat in the circle of rocks and thrust an envelope into my hands.
‘There’s an address in there of a house in New York needs a maid,’ he said. ‘Father McGinty gave it to me when I asked did he know of anybody. He said ’tis a good Catholic family and he’d pray they’d be a good influence on your soul.’
Da’s face didn’t betray what he thought of Father McGinty’s motives, and I decided it didn’t matter whose idea it was.
‘Their name is Boyle and the housekeeper will meet you when the boat docks. Your man O’Hanlon in America sent enough money will buy you and Nora a berth in steerage on that new boat.’
‘B-But what...’
I looked up at him in astonishment. I waited for him to explain more. What would Ma say? Why was he letting me go?
I would get no answers. Da turned around and continued his way down to the cottage, leaning on a blackthorn stick, our old sheepdog lumbering behind him. As I watched him go, a thought, fragile and elusive as a tiny bird, began to form. Could it be that fortune had finally smiled on me?
NORA
I was fit to be tied when I found out what Da had done. I screamed aloud at Ma, tears stinging my eyes. ‘But it was my money, Ma. You promised I’d be the one to go.’
Ma looked up at me from where she sat at the kitchen table. Then she looked away, staring out the window. She couldn’t even face me.
‘You’re still going,’ she said quietly, ‘’tis only that your sister’s going too.’
‘Aye, travelling down in steerage with the rabble. It might suit Delia, but it doesn’t suit me.’
I’d been looking forward to the journey in first class; I’d pictured myself strolling around the deck in the company of al
l the toffs. I even let myself imagine one of the rich young fellers would take a notion for me. And now Ma, by not standing up to Da, had ruined all of it. Who was I going to meet down in steerage? Second sons of farmers forced out because they wouldn’t inherit the farm; scrawny shop boys who had a bob on themselves because their boots weren’t caked in mud like the farm boys; and chancers of every kind. I could stay home and meet the likes of them!
While the shame of having to travel in steerage fuelled my temper, I realized there was something more to it. Da had proved, once and for all, that Delia was his favourite daughter. I’d always suspected it, but now I knew for sure; I meant little to him. I used to put my feelings down to jealousy of Delia, but I realized now it was not jealousy, but hurt. I’d wanted Da to love me. I suppose you always yearn for what you know you can never have.
After a while my fury quieted down. ‘But why, Ma? Why did you let him do it? You never listened to him before.’
Ma looked me straight in the eyes.
‘Oh I fought him on it all right! We went at it hammer and tongs. But he wouldn’t give an inch. I’ve never seen your da so stubborn.’ She paused as if making up her mind what else to say. When she spoke again, her words were angry. ‘I should never have shown him that ticket. He took it down from the dresser and got the priest to help him exchange it for the two third-class berths. Went behind my back, so he did, the sly oul’ fox.’
She shrugged. ‘Besides, I’m not sorry to see her go. How could I have stood it with you away and herself left here to taunt me from morning till night?’ She stood up and smiled. ‘At least she’ll get her comeuppance in that house – if Father McGinty recommended them they must be tyrants altogether.’
She stood up, all business now, and came over to stand close to me. She wasn’t a tall woman, but when she was right next to you, which she was now, you’d swear she was as big as Da. I leaned away from her the way I always did when I felt her smothering me.
‘I know what you’ve been thinking, my girl,’ she began. ‘You’ve been imagining that you’d have met a rich young feller in first class. Well so you might have, but that’s not what I have in mind for you. You’ll go to work for Mr O’Hanlon in New York and you’ll coax him into marrying you. On my oath I’d bet that feller has more money than any of the young idlers you’d be meeting in first class who would promise you anything to get their way with you and then throw you over for some girl more equal to their station.’ She paused. ‘On the other hand, Mr O’Hanlon is a settled man who is most likely looking for a wife, and you’ll be the one to fill the bill.’
I could see the wisdom of her words, but a small part of me wanted to rebel at being told what to do. I should have been used to it by now – she’d been telling me what to do all my life and I had given in because I was rewarded with praise and finery. I liked being told that I was beautiful and too good for the local boys. I liked wearing the latest fashions and making all my friends jealous. Some of them, like Delia, had to be satisfied with hand-me-downs and others had to wear clothes their ma sewed out of dyed, rough flour sacks. I was far and away the best dressed of any of them and I strutted into mass on a Sunday morning knowing that everybody was looking at me. I told myself ’twas a small price to pay to let Ma have her say.
I did the same thing now. I nodded. ‘You’re right, Ma. You always are.’
She gave a satisfied nod.
From then on up to the time the Titanic was ready to sail, Ma took down from the dresser the wee box where she kept the money she’d saved from selling eggs. She took me to Donegal Town and spoiled me with new dresses and hats, ribbons and new boots, and even a small bottle of perfume I’d begged for. She even took me to get my hair styled. I was going to be the belle of the ball, she said.
It was a pity all that effort was going to be wasted in steerage.
TITANIC
1912
DELIA
I was trembling with nerves and excitement when the big day arrived; the day we were to travel to Queenstown in County Cork to board the Titanic, which would sail the next day. Queenstown harbour was at the far end of the country and it would be a long journey. First, we’d have to go by pony and cart to the station in Donegal Town and then on by train, making several stops to change lines along the way. It would take us a full day. I’d never travelled that far in my life, nor had Nora. I couldn’t wait to see the rest of Ireland.
I’d scarcely slept the night before, my mind jumping between excitement and anxiety. As we left the cottage, the morning was still dark. Ma stood at the door, her arms folded as Da readied the pony and cart. When he had hauled our luggage up into the bed of the cart, Nora ran over to Ma and threw her arms around her. Ma hugged Nora back. I knew by her loud sniffs she was crying even though I couldn’t see her plainly.
‘God bless, darlin’,’ she said, ‘and remember everything I told you. You’ll no doubt have boys traipsing around after you on the boat, but you’re to set your sights higher.’
‘Yes, Ma. I will,’ Nora said fervently as she turned away, although I knew she was only humouring her. When it came to boys Nora always did exactly what she wanted no matter what she promised Ma.
I waited for Ma to say something to me. We stood looking at each other for what seemed a long time. At last she said, ‘Safe journey,’ and turned and went back into the cottage. I fought back tears. I’d hoped against hope for some kind words. After all, this might well be the last time we would ever lay eyes on each other. I suppose I should have known better.
Just as we were ready to board the cart, our house cat raced out of the cottage door and jumped up into Nora’s arms, purring. Nora let out a squeal of delight.
‘Poor puss,’ she said as she stroked it. ‘Will you miss me? I’m sorry I can’t take you with me. Be a good girl now and go and keep Ma company.’
She gently set the cat back down on the ground. Nora was very fond of animals, a trait I always found curious in her. It seemed to me they were the only creatures she loved more than herself.
As we travelled away from the cottage, pale red streaks spanned the sky ahead of us. Dawn was coming, the last dawn I would see in Ireland for I believed in my heart that I would never return. My sadness came as a surprise. I’d imagined I would feel only joy at finally being able to escape the cottage and Kilcross. But I hadn’t realized I would miss Donegal itself. Its green hills rose on either side of us like hazy, dark shadows in the dim light. In the distance I could hear the splashing of the Atlantic against the cliffs. A squealing sheep ran across the road in front of us. I thought back to my favourite place, the circle of rocks beneath the oak tree where I had spent so many afternoons, lost in my imagination. I took a deep breath. I would miss all of it.
Da said nothing to either me or Nora as the cart rattled along the rutted road. He sat upright, holding the reins loosely in his hands and looking straight ahead. Every now and then he urged the pony on in the lovely soft Gaelic of his childhood. I sat beside him while Nora sat up on the wooden seat behind us. She moved about restlessly, her dress rustling in the silence. She wore one of her fancy new dresses – hardly the thing for a long journey. But then Nora never set foot outside the door without looking her best. I smiled to myself. She would hardly be caught dead in the likes of the plain cotton blouse and skirt I wore.
When we finally arrived at the station, I was surprised there were only a few stragglers on the platform. I had expected hordes of people, all making for the Titanic. I realized then the coming adventure loomed much larger in my life than in that of my neighbours.
Da lifted the suitcases out of the cart and brought them over to the platform. The two largest ones belonged to Nora. She had fussed and fumed the night before, refusing even Ma’s advice to leave some of her clothes behind. I, on the other hand, had no such problems. My scant belongings fitted easily into a small suitcase. I also carried a leather bag containing our identity papers, tickets and the money left over from what Mr O’Hanlon had sent, which I wa
s to divide between Nora and me when we docked in New York. Nora had said she couldn’t be bothered with all that carry-on, which was hardly surprising since Nora was used to having everything done for her. I did say she ought to take her share of the money, but she waved me away with a sigh. For all her confidence, our Nora could be very naïve at times.
When he had set the luggage down, Da straightened up and looked at us. We both waited to see if he was going to speak. At last he stepped closer, his arms held out stiffly as if ready to hug us, but Nora stepped back and looked away.
‘Goodbye, Da,’ I said quickly to cover the awkwardness, ‘wish us luck.’
He nodded, and let his arms drop. I realized he had no need to hug me, I could see the sadness in his eyes. Even though I realized he had no need to hug me, I realized I had need to hug him. I stepped forward and put my arms around him.
The moment was interrupted by the arrival of the train, the cloud of steam from its engine enveloping the platform in a momentary fog. We climbed up the metal steps to a third-class carriage and Da handed our suitcases to the conductor. We found seats in an empty compartment. Nora rushed to the window and lifted it open. As the train began to move, she stuck her head out and waved in Da’s direction. ‘Bye!’ she called. ‘Goodbye, Da.’ I wondered if she was doing it all for the benefit of the people left on the platform. Our Nora loved a bit of drama.
She sat down, sniffed and glared at me. ‘First-class compartments wouldn’t have wooden seats.’
I said nothing. As the train picked up steam, two young people came into the compartment. Nora jumped up and greeted them. They were a sister and brother named Maeve and Dom Donnelly whom Nora and I had known from school. They, too, they said, would be travelling on the Titanic. The girl’s face was as white as a ghost and she clung to her brother for dear life. Nora seemed to ignore the girl’s fear as she attached herself to them, prattling away about the upcoming journey, leaving me to myself as if I were a stranger. No matter, I thought. I reached into my bag and pulled out a book. A book was a better companion than my sister any day of the week.
The Titanic Sisters Page 2