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The Girl Who Came Home(39)

By:Hazel Gaynor


He remembered then that it was their friend Katie’s birthday the following day and wondered if he might be able to sneak the girls up the ladder as a bit of a birthday treat.

He and some of the other Third Class crew had been told of the ladder which gave quick access to the upper decks. They’d been creeping up it over the last few days to spy on the fancy ladies taking luncheon in the Parisian style café or walking their tiny little dogs on the promenade deck before afternoon tea. They’d watched the men reclining in comfortable chairs sharing a cigar and discussing matters of important business. He’d even seen Captain Smith and Mr Ismay strolling casually along the promenade deck together, deep in conversation. How proud they must have been walking among their passengers, seeming like Gods or Kings in their command of such a vessel.

Apart from the limited view he’d snatched with his own eyes from his precarious grip on the ladder, Harry had, of course, seen some of the luxury of the First Class accommodations up close and he’d taken great delight in regaling the Irish girls with his tales of the elegant Reading Room and the painted glass windows of the Smoking Room, the cascading sweep of the Grand Staircase and of the Turkish baths, heated swimming pool, gym and barbers (the latter of which he hadn’t seen himself, but had heard talk of). It never ceased to amaze him to think that some people travelling on this ship would experience more luxury and a better standard of living in the seven or so days it would take to reach America than all the people down in steerage would experience in a lifetime. How Peggy and her friends would gawp if they could see it for themselves, he thought, laughing and decided to bring them up for a quick look the next day.

*

The morning of Sunday 14th April started early for Harry as usual, with the breakfast to prepare and four hundred hungry passengers to feed. He paid particular attention to his Irish girls, as he had done for the last three mornings.

‘Now ladies,’ he whispered conspiratorially as he served them their herrings, ‘there’s a religious service after breakfast today, to be held in the first class dining room for all passengers. I take it you’ll be making your way up, to gawp at the ladies and flutter your eyelashes at the eligible bachelors?’

‘The nerve of ‘im,’ Peggy replied as she shook out her napkin. ‘We will of course be goin’, but only because we are good, God fearin’ women and wish to take part in the praying an’ all, isn’t that right girls?’ They giggled. ‘Anyway, it’ll be them posh folk who are gawpin’ at us with our fancy clothes and me with mi fine hat and proper ladies gloves!’

Kathleen Kenny had been observing the girls’ friendliness with the steward over the last few days, mindful of stories she’d heard about crew taking advantage of young girls who were lonely and vulnerable on the transatlantic liners. They were in especially high spirits that morning with it being Katie Kenny’s birthday and she was growing distinctly uncomfortable with how flippant they were becoming.

‘Peggy Madden,’ she hissed in a stern voice, leaning across the table purposefully. ‘I do not think it is very proper for a young lady to be so friendly with a steward. You’d do well to be doin’ a little less talkin’ and a bit more eatin’.’ The girls looked down at their plates and started to eat quietly. ‘And mind you pay attention at the service this mornin’ too, it wouldn’t do any one of you any harm to be doin’ a lot more prayin’ either.’

Her seriousness caused the girls the giggle and they continued to eat their breakfast in silence, kicking each other under the solid, wooden table, trying desperately to avoid looking at each other for fear of starting another fit of the giggles.

Not wanting to get them into any more trouble, Harry went about his work without saying another word to the girls but as they were leaving the dining room, he drew Maggie to one side, making sure that her aunt was well out of sight, and earshot.

He was fond of the girl Maggie. He’d learnt that she was the youngest in the Irish party and felt a little protective of her. She reminded him of his sister Sally with her giggles and her auburn curls. But she also had an air of constant sadness about her and he wondered why she seemed so uncertain about this journey when the other girls - although they spoke fondly about their families back home - were clearly excited about the prospect of settling in America.

‘Listen, I know a back staircase which goes right up to the upper decks,’ he whispered to her, taking her arm and pulling her gently to one side of the door so the other passengers could get past them. ‘If you want to have a look later with your friends, meet me near the engine rooms after the service.’ He smiled at her and winked.