The Girl Who Came Home(19)
No more was said between them on the matter and once back in Ireland she chose to ignore the Ballysheen gossips. In any event, whatever the truth was about her real intentions of returning to Ireland that winter, Kathleen would board Titanic in the morning along with her niece and twelve others from the parish, but without a husband.
Marriage could wait. For now, she was more concerned about getting a good night’s sleep.
CHAPTER 7 - R.M.S Titanic, 10th April 1912
The journey from Southampton to Queenstown, Titanic’s final embarkation stop before heading out into the vast reaches of the Atlantic, passed smoothly enough – with the exception of the New York pulling loose from its moorings and nearly causing a collision with Titanic before she had even sailed out of Southampton harbour. This caused a few heart-stopping moments among the passengers and crew who saw it all from their vantage point on the decks. For the ship’s financiers and those in positions of authority and influence within the White Star Line, it was a near disaster.
Returning to his dormitory to have a quick wash before the lifejacket inspection and preparations for dinner service, Harry stopped just short of the Scotland Road passageway as he saw two men, deep in conversation at the top of the D deck staircase. He recognised them as Mr Ismay of the White Star Line and Thomas Andrews the ship’s designer. Harry leant against the wall of the corridor which ran at right angles to the staircase, making sure he was well out of their eyesight. He listened carefully. They were discussing the incident and sharing a much-needed smoke out of the sight and earshot of their first class passengers.
‘Bloody hell Bruce, that was a bit too close for comfort. There can’t have been four feet between them before that tug pushed her aft.’
Andrews rubbed his hand anxiously through his hair and loosened his tie as Harry observed from his vantage point. He seemed to Harry to be a nervy-looking man, although no wonder, Harry thought, when the ship he’d spent the last few years designing had almost been grounded within minutes of raising its anchor.
‘My God man, imagine the shame if we’d had a bloody collision in Southampton harbour,’ Mr Ismay replied, taking a long drag from his cigarette. ‘We wouldn’t have had much of a maiden voyage to celebrate then would we, never mind breaking speed records for crossing the Atlantic.’
Andrews nodded in agreement. ‘We’d have been financially ruined, never mind the field day the press would have had. Things like this just can’t be allowed to happen. Not on this ship. Not on this voyage.’
‘Well, let’s just consider it a very fortunate escape from an untimely and embarrassing disaster then,’ Mr Ismay whispered, lowering his voice as two Officers walked past them, ‘and let’s get on with the business of making sure this ship lives up to its billing for the rest of the journey. We’re already behind schedule for our stop in Cherbourg. I’m going up to the bridge to encourage Captain Smith to increase the speed.’
The two men dispersed then, Andrews heading up the companionway corridor, Ismay taking the elevator to the boat deck.
Harry already felt strangely at home on this massive ship. He was impressed with the facilities provided for the Third Class passengers, being far superior to any he had encountered before. He was perfectly happy to work here and settled into his duties easily, despite the Second and First Class steward’s taunts to the Third Class stewards that if they weren’t careful down there among the rats and the nit-infested, clap-riddled steerage folk, they’d be arriving in New York with a lot more than their duffle bags.
He was minding his own business and setting out the cutlery for dinner when a familiar voice behind him made him jump.
‘Well, Lucky Harry strikes again.’
Lucky Harry was a nickname he’d been given by some of the other lads he knew in Southampton due to the endless amounts of good fortune he had whenever they played a game of cards. He recognised the voice straightaway.
‘Billy? What the hell are you doin’ down here? You nearly gave me a heart attack.’ He carried on laying out his place settings. ‘I thought you were too posh now to be slummin’ it down ‘ere with us steerage lot. You’d better get back upstairs before you catch something!’
Billy laughed. ‘Yeah, I am too posh. But I need you to come and help me upstairs. We’ve stewards laid up and are short of hands to help out with evenin’ dinner. The Officers are panicking that the dinner service will be late and they don’t want people to start complainin’ before we’ve even got to Ireland. I suggested a few names to the Officers to come and help and you’re one of ‘em.’