The Titanic Sisters

by Patricia Falvey

  I noticed he could not even refer to me by name. I wrested my hand out of Lily’s, nodded, and turned towards the door.

  ‘No! Stay!’

  Her small voice echoed behind me. I thought I was hearing things. I swung around and stared at her. She stood facing her father, her arms akimbo, like a little warrior.

  ‘No, Daddy,’ she said, ‘I won’t go to Texas unless Miss Delia comes too.’

  A heavy silence fell over the room. Aidan and I stared at Lily, open-mouthed. Had she really spoken? Had she just uttered her first words in years? Tears welled in my eyes and I wanted to rush over and hug her. But I was rooted to the fioor. Aidan jumped to his feet, his face pale. Lily did not move.

  He knelt in front of her. ‘Lily,’ he whispered, as if afraid to break the spell, ‘Lily, did you just speak? Did I really hear you?’

  ‘Yes, Daddy,’ she said. ‘I told you I won’t go to Texas unless Miss Delia comes too.’

  Aidan looked from her to me, suspicion in his eyes. I guessed he thought I had hidden from him that she was speaking all along. As if reading his mind, she said, ‘I have never spoken in front of Miss Delia, Daddy. I have not spoken to anyone since Mommy died.’

  ‘Then why now?’ whispered Aidan.

  ‘Because this is important, Daddy. There was nothing before that was important. It was easier to be silent. But I love Miss Delia, and you can’t leave her behind, so I had to start talking again.’

  I was shocked. Not only was Lily speaking, but she sounded more like an adult than a seven-year-old girl. I always knew she was intelligent, but this – this was beyond belief.

  Suddenly, Aidan had tears in his eyes. He hugged Lily tight. She buried her head in his shoulder, whimpering. Poor wee thing. It was as if the effort of talking had been too much for her. Aidan looked at me over her head.

  ‘Will you come with us, Miss Sweeney?’

  All his anger was gone, replaced by uncertainty.

  ‘Yes,’ I nodded.

  As night fell, the train slowed down and heaved to a stop, and I became anxious. Where was I to sleep? Aidan had purchased Pullman tickets, which offered small, sleeping compartments with pull-out beds. They were close together, but each was shrouded by a curtain for privacy.

  We ate supper in the first-class dining car. Aidan and I said little to each other, and I was grateful for Lily’s constant prattling. It seemed to me she was making up for all the words she hadn’t spoken in the previous four years. When we finished eating, he rose and stretched.

  ‘We may as well turn in for the night,’ he said.

  I followed him and Lily back to the carriage, picked up my travelling bag, and waited for the conductor to open the curtain which hid the sleeping compartment. I stepped inside and quickly pulled the curtain tightly across the opening. Inside there was a small bed covered in silken sheets. I stood, my heart thumping. I was acutely aware that Aidan was in the compartment right next to mine and separated only by a curtain. The distance between us was so small I could have put out my hand and touched him. A sadness came over me as I imagined how different things might have been.

  I was awakened with a start when I felt someone’s presence beside the bed. I sat straight up and turned up the lamp. Lily stood looking down at me. She carried the small, well-worn plush rabbit she always slept with.

  ‘What’s wrong, Lily?’ I whispered.

  ‘I can’t sleep. I’m frightened.’

  The poor wee thing, I thought. I’d probably have felt the same way at her age if I was lying in a strange bed by myself on a moving train. I pulled aside the bedcovers.

  ‘It’s all right, Lily. Climb in with me. I’ll keep you safe.’

  The warmth of her small body calmed both of us. Soon her steady breathing told me she was asleep. I lay awake for a while, but soon the rocking rhythm of the train lulled me to sleep.

  I awoke with a start again, sensing someone was watching me. I hadn’t drawn the window curtains, and the red rays of dawn filtered into the Pullman car, giving enough light that I could make out a shadow. I knew instinctively who it was.

  ‘Aidan?’ I whispered. ‘Is something wrong?’

  He came closer. ‘Nothing,’ he whispered back. ‘I went to check on Lily and she wasn’t in her bed. I guessed she might be with you.’

  I nodded. ‘She came in last night. She was afraid of being on her own.’

  I thought then he might be hurt that she didn’t seek comfort with him. As if reading my thoughts, he said, ‘I am surprised she didn’t come to me, but I suppose . . .’

  He let the words trail off.

  ‘She is missing her mother, I think.’

  The light in the small space grew brighter as the sun edged up from the horizon and I could see him clearly. He was fully dressed although his shirt was unbuttoned from collar to waist. I stared at the black hair that spread across his bare chest, suppressing the urge to run my fingers through it. I forced myself to look at his face instead. He was staring at me as if seeing me for the first time. I fiinched under his scrutiny, aware of my unbound hair spread across the pillow, and that I wore only my nightgown. In her sleep Lily had drawn all the bedcovers around herself leaving me fully exposed. I took in a deep breath and prayed he would look away. Instead, he drew closer, bent down and kissed Lily on the forehead.

  ‘I expect you are correct,’ he said. ‘She is missing her mother.’

  He gathered the sleeping child in his arms and lifted her up. I thought he was taking her back to her berth. But instead he laid her down on his own bed. Then he turned and came towards me. I had hurriedly pulled the bedcovers back over me. He sat down on top of them and, taking my hand in his, fixed his eyes on me.

  ‘I was wrong to be angry with you, Delia,’ he whispered. ‘I see the love you have for Lily and she for you. I was being selfish.’

  He began to finger the strands of my hair. ‘I was very hurt when you told me you’d lied to me. I tried telling you my anger was because you had violated my strong principle of truthfulness, but the irony is I was lying too. What really hurt was that I had become very fond of you, Delia. I’d dropped my guard for the first time since Mary died, and let you get close. And when I found out you’d lied to me about who you really were, I felt like a fool.’

  I waited for him to finish; I could find no words to reply. All I could do was gaze at his face in the early morning light.

  ‘Daddy? Miss Delia?’ Lily’s small voice broke the spell.

  Aidan pulled away and spun around.

  ‘It’s all right, Lily, I’m here,’ he said, his voice husky.

  ‘I want to get up now,’ she said. ‘It’s morning.’

  ‘You’re right. Let’s go back to your berth and get you dressed.’

  He reached up and drew the curtain between our berths closed.

  Later, I joined them at breakfast. If Lily had seen her father sitting on my bed, she passed no remark. Instead, she prattled on excitedly about the things she would do when she got to Texas. Aidan and I said little, focusing our full attention on Lily. When we finished breakfast, we went back to the carriage where I found a corner seat and took refuge in my book.

  The journey became monotonous. I was tired and stiff from sitting, even though the seats were plush velvet, not wooden as they would have been on the trains at home. I was excited when we stopped in Chicago to change trains and climbed down on to the platform along with crowds of people. I was anxious to see Chicago, but we had to board another train without ever going outside.

  At last, the train crossed the Texas border. I sat up straight and peered out the window, keen to see the place that was to be my new home. For a while we passed through thick stands of pine trees. I hadn’t expected to see them since all that I had read about Texas suggested it was fiat and arid. I wanted to ask Aidan about it but, although he was smiling as he looked out the window, an unexpected shyness had overcome me, and I thought better of it. In time the woods gave way to vast stretches of brown, parched acreage.
Stunted trees grew at odd angles, and dried-up bushes rolled across the land, propelled by the wind. It was like nothing I had ever seen – more like the surface of the moon than anything on earth. In my astonishment I looked over at Aidan and realized he had been watching me.

  ‘What do you think, Delia?’

  ‘It’s different to Ireland.’

  He laughed. ‘That’s what Mary said when she first saw it.’

  I turned back to the window. The fiatness of the land was relieved now and then by small hills and crude, rustic cabins. Occasionally I saw men riding horses in the distance, kicking up clouds of dust behind them. My stomach sank. Texas looked lonely and desolate, and I suddenly wished I had never agreed to come. I looked over at Lily, who stood with her nose pressed to the window. She turned to me, smiling.

  ‘You’ll like Texas, Miss Delia.’

  I gave her a faint smile back and nodded.

  If I’d been honest, I would have told her that as long as I was close to her and her father, I didn’t much care where I was.

  When I climbed down from the train at a depot called Fort Worth, I felt as if I had been travelling forever. My clothes were crumpled and dusty and the heat inside the train carriage had made me drowsy. I set down my bag, then straightened up and stretched. Aidan walked up to me, holding Lily by the hand. The child was skipping with excitement.

  ‘Come,’ Aidan said. ‘José should be waiting for us.’

  I was a little confused. ‘I thought we were going to Dallas,’ I said. ‘Didn’t we pass that depot a little while ago?’

  He grinned. ‘I wanted to come here first because there’s something I’d like to show you.’

  I followed him out of the station. Outside, a scorching heat enveloped me, setting the back of my exposed neck on fire. I thought I might faint. I took a deep breath and tried to shake myself awake. The heat seemed to have no effect on Aidan or Lily. They both smiled broadly at a short brown-skinned man walking towards us. He wore tall leather boots, narrow trousers and a large black hat. He removed his hat and gave a small bow.

  ‘Welcome, Señor O’Hanlon,’ he said.

  ‘Hello, José,’ Aidan said, shaking the man’s hand. ‘It’s good to see you after all this time. You remember Lily, and this is Miss Sweeney, her governess.’

  José bowed to me, then looked down at Lily. ‘The niñita, she has grown.’

  He led us down the steps to a mud-spattered blue car. Its top had been rolled down, meaning the passengers would be exposed to the merciless sun. José held open the doors and Aidan climbed into the front seat while Lily and I settled ourselves in the back. José went off to fetch our luggage. Aidan took off his jacket and tie and threw them in the back seat beside me, then he opened his shirt collar.

  ‘Ah, it’s so good to be back,’ he said, ‘where we can leave all of the stuffiness of New York behind us.’

  I wanted to ask how he could stand such heat, but I didn’t want to complain. As if reading my mind, he said, ‘It’s hot for early May, Miss Sweeney, but you’ll have to get used to it. The next three months will be even hotter. It shocks northerners when they first arrive, and those who cannot take it go home. It’s a test of their resilience. Those who stay are the ones who truly belong here.’

  I wanted to point out that he was a northerner himself, but I kept silent.

  A rank, unfamiliar smell suddenly assaulted me, taking my mind off the heat. I looked up and thudding towards the car was a herd of cows, but not like any cows I had ever seen. They were huge and had horns on them that spanned outwards wider than the width of their bodies. I shrank back in fright. Lily looked up at me and laughed.

  ‘Don’t be scared, Miss Delia, they’re only longhorns.’

  Aidan turned around, grinning. ‘I wanted to see the look on your face when you first saw them. I suppose they are frightening at first, but you’ll get used to them. You see, Fort Worth is the place where ranchers bring their cattle to be shipped far and wide by railroad. People say this is where the West begins. Its nickname is “Cow Town”.’

  I was somewhat put out with Aidan. How dare he try to deliberately scare me this way? But then I looked at him, his eyes dancing with merriment, and my heart melted. For all his reassurance, though, I still shuddered as the herd thundered past. Men with weather-beaten faces sheltered by large white hats rode on either side of the animals, ropes in their hands.

  José came back carrying our luggage and put it in the boot of the car. Smiling, he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. I was thankful for the faintest of breezes that moved the hot air around. Maybe when we were out on the main road it would be better, I hoped. The streets bustled with traffic and pedestrians. I was shocked to see such activity in the middle of the brown fiatlands – it was like a mirage in the middle of the desert. Women wearing lace-trimmed blouses and long skirts, some carrying parasols to keep off the sun, picked their way daintily along the pavements. Many of the men wore boots with spurs, their faces shaded by big hats like the one José wore. Some leaned against buildings, one foot raised behind them, watching the scene before them with keen eyes. Brown-skinned women with long black braids, some carrying babies, wove in and out of the crowds. Cattle mingled with horse-drawn carriages, cars and trams, and manure dotted the streets. This place would never be mistaken for New York City, I thought.

  José threaded the car through the traffic and soon the town disappeared behind us, giving way to small wooden cabins scattered haphazardly on either side of the road. As we drove on, even these disappeared and all that was left was a carpet of brown, sun-parched land spread out before us and to either side, dotted here and there with a few misshapen trees and low-lying bushes. Aidan and José talked easily to each other in front. I strained to hear them but could not make out the words over the noise of the engine. Lily had fallen asleep, her head leaning against my arm. I smiled down at her.

  Eventually the monotony of the landscape and the relentless heat overcame me, and I nodded off. I awoke with a start when the car stopped. For a minute I didn’t know where I was. I rubbed my eyes and tried to shake myself awake. Lily sprang up and darted out of the car before I could stop her. I called after her, but she didn’t turn around. It was then I saw the house. It was two storeys high, with a low, fiat roof of red tile, and overhanging eaves. A veranda spanned the width of it, held up by tapered pillars anchored in a foundation of stone. The exterior was of wood, painted the colour of sand, with brown trim. A fiight of stone steps led up to a wide brown door with glass panes. It faced a green lawn edged with a profusion of colourful fiowers and was shaded by tall trees. I must be dreaming, I thought. How could such a beautiful house and verdant landscape have sprung up in the middle of this arid land?

  I rubbed my eyes again to make sure I was awake. But the house and lawn and the fiowers were still there. My mouth must have dropped open because Aidan leaned close to me.

  ‘Welcome to my Dallas home, Delia. Not what you expected, is it?’

  ‘I-I never thought there’d be such beauty,’ I said.

  ‘Not out in this wilderness?’

  I nodded, worried that I might have offended him.

  ‘N-No, I didn’t mean . . .’

  ‘It’s all right, Delia. It’s a natural reaction. José and the staff take great pride in the fiowers and bushes and the lawn. They baby them as if they were children. As you can imagine, it takes skill to grow something like this in this climate.’ He paused and sighed. ‘Before Mary came there was nothing but gravel. She was the one who insisted on all of this. She wanted to be reminded of Ireland. We all thought she was mad, but she persisted. I’m truly overcome that the workers have kept everything just the same as when she was here.’

  He looked away from me, but not before I saw the moistness in his eyes. I stepped out of the car and walked towards the house, leaving him to his memories.

  Inside, the house was blessedly cool. A short hallway led into an open room dominated by a huge stone fireplace. Oak
fioors gave way to stained-wood walls and exposed beams. Built-in cabinets displayed colourful pottery and side tables held lamps with hammered silver bases and stained-glass shades. The furniture was of brown leather, and patterned rugs in shades of green, red, yellow and orange covered the fioors. A large dining table and chairs with simple, straight lines stood beneath a window at the far end of the room. This house had none of the formality of the house in New York and I felt like I could breathe here.

  A short, stocky woman with a solemn expression appeared from another room and came towards me. But before she could get close, Lily rushed to her and threw her arms around her waist. The woman’s brown face creased in smiles. She took Lily’s face between her hands and beamed down at her.

  ‘Hola, Miss Lily,’ she said. ‘Bienvenida a casa. Welcome home.’

  ‘Hola, Miss Rosa.’

  I fought back tears as I watched them. Joy glowed on both their faces. I could see now why Lily had been so sad in New York. This was her real home.

  I was distracted by Aidan and José bringing in the luggage. Aidan went immediately to Rosa and kissed her on the cheek. She said something to him in Spanish, her eyes moist as she did so. Aidan stepped back and put his hand out towards me.

  ‘This is Miss Sweeney, Rosa,’ he said. ‘She is Lily’s governess. She is from Ireland.’

  Rosa nodded. ‘Like Señorita Maria,’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes, like Mary.’

  ‘Welcome, Miss Sweeney,’ she said.

  Aidan turned to me. ‘Rosa is José’s wife. They have been with me for many years.’

  I smiled and nodded.

  Later, when Rosa had shown me to my room, upstairs under one of the eaves of the house, I sat down on the bed with its colourful quilt and took a deep breath. I was here. I was finally in Texas. I didn’t know what to make of it yet – everything was so strange and different.

  A sudden wave of melancholy swept over me. I thought at first it was homesickness for Ireland, but while that was part of it, the bigger part, I admitted to myself, was due to Mary. The ghost of Aidan’s late wife was everywhere. She dwelled in the profusion of fiowers in the garden, her touch evident in the welcoming warmth of the living room, and her memory alive in Rosa and José. And what hurt most of all was that by coming to this place she had been newly resurrected in the minds and hearts of Lily and Aidan. This was their home, this was where the three of them had been happy, and it was I who was the imposter.