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The Girl Who Came Home(21)

By:Hazel Gaynor


Robert gave Harry a simpering, half-smile before following his fiancée inside to the reception area at the bottom of the Grand Staircase where pre-dinner drinks were being served.

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For his own part, Harry was quite pleased to have the opportunity to stroll around the First Class decks and have a proper look at the luxury which had been talked about and boasted about by the ship’s designers. He also knew his mother would be very keen to hear all about how the other half live, so he paid attention as he walked along, the small dog trotting along beside him.

It was everything he had imagined it would be, and more. From the boat deck, standing between the first and second funnels, he could look right down through the massive wrought-iron and glass domed skylight onto the spectacle of the Grand Staircase, which swept in graceful arcs down to the lounge and beyond, all the way down to E Deck. He watched the passengers walk down the staircase, dressed in their finest dinner outfits, greeting each other and congregating in comfortable looking chairs at round, mahogany tables where they were served a drink before dinner.

Walking down to the promenade deck a similar scene of opulence was repeated. He gazed into the ostentatious gentleman-only smoking room, admiring its sumptuous leather chairs and heavy wooden panelling. Further along the desk, he caught sight of the Palm Court with its delicate wicker chairs and dainty vases of flowers. He glanced into the Reading and Writing room as he strolled past, the huge bow window affording him a good look at the interior, painted in elegant white, luxurious curtains draped around the windows and a fire blazing in the centre of the room. This room alone was bigger than the entire downstairs of his own house.

As he strolled, he passed several other passengers walking their dogs. In all the twenty three years of his life, it had never occurred to Harry that people might take their pet dog on a trip across the Atlantic, but as he was starting to realise, there was very little about this ship and its occupants which didn’t surprise him.

Taking a second circuit of the decks, as instructed, he passed the rows of lifeboats which hung, covered in their white tarpaulins, suspended on ropes from the huge, steel davits. They were a strange, awkward, bulky sight amid all the lavish luxury and elegance. Harry almost wondered that they hadn’t been carved from a dark, mahogany wood and embossed with ornate carvings to be more in keeping with the opulence of their surroundings.

Walking down onto the port side, he almost forgot he was on a ship; almost forgot entirely about the silly little dog trotting along behind him he was so caught up in the elegant atmosphere of the place. The delicate sound of a piano drifted across the starboard side of the ship and the gentle melodies of a string quartet came from the port side. Nothing had been overlooked; the passengers were even entertained and soothed as they walked their dogs or strolled with parasols, or sat about with their aperitifs and their cigarette holders.

He was glad Billy had given him the chance to see all this. Even though he’d been impressed with the standard of accommodation given to the steerage passengers, the furnishings of the General Room and the Third Class dining saloon now seemed unnecessarily sparse when compared to the grandeur he looked on now. Never in his life had Harry seen such a stark demarcation of class in one place and for all of its jaw-dropping elegance, it turned his stomach slightly.

His mother was right; he would take extra special care of his steerage passengers now and do everything he could to make their journey as pleasant as possible. The First Class toffs and their silly little dogs could get well and truly stuffed.





CHAPTER 8 - Private journal of Maggie Murphy





RMS Titanic, 11th April, 1912

Day 1 at sea





We are finally sailing! I don’t think there are enough words to describe this amazing ship or how it feels to be floating on top of the ocean (a fact I don’t like to think about too often) – but I will try!

First, I’ll explain how we came to be here.

Our day started early, Kathleen rousing us all at some ungodly hour of the morning with a brusque shake of the shoulders or a hard rap on the door. I’m used to her no-nonsense ways – some of the others aren’t and I don’t think they took to the rude awakening too well.

When we were all up and dressed, we attended Mass in St. Colman’s Cathedral. After Peggy’s tale of the odd stranger, I paid more attention than usual to the prayers. The Priest offered a special blessing to those in the congregation who would be departing Irish shores that day. There were many; many more than our fourteen, in fact almost the entire congregation seemed to be heading to America that day.

It was then time to assemble at the White Star Line wharf at the Deepwater Quay where we had to wait for a tender boat to take us out to Titanic which was anchored some miles off-shore. I asked Jack Brennan why we had to take one boat to get to another when a friendly gentleman standing nearby explained that Queenstown harbour isn’t wide enough, deep enough or equipped with the right facilities to manage such an enormous ship as Titanic. I told him I thought the harbour looked very big. He laughed and said it still wasn’t big enough. He wished me a pleasant journey and went to join a pretty lady who wore a hat twice the size of Peggy’s. I saw Peggy admiring the hat and adjusting her own. I think she might care for that bloody hat more than she cares for her own brothers back home!