‘See that girl there with the cigarette holder and the long white gloves?’ Harry whispered, pointing out a particularly elegant lady sitting nearest to them. ‘She’s a famous actress in the silent movies, Vivienne Walker-Brown.’ The girls had never heard of the woman, but she oozed such style and sophistication that all three of them wanted to trade their life for hers immediately. ‘And that’s her stupid little dog, Edmund, sitting under her chair,’ he continued. ‘It goes everywhere with her. I took it for a walk the other day I’ll have you know.’
At that, Peggy snorted a laugh so loud that it almost gave away their hiding place. If it hadn’t been for the violinists entertaining the ladies, Maggie was sure they would have been heard.
‘Jesus Christ Peggy, shush would you,’ Maggie scolded as they clambered quickly back down the ladder before anyone could arrest them or throw them overboard.
By the time they were all safely down, all four were laughing, partly with nerves and partly at Harry knowing the name of some society lady’s dog.
‘Well, that’s all very nice an’ all,’ Peggy announced as she finally composed herself, wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks, ‘but I bet they can barely breathe trussed up into their corsets like stuffed turkeys. You wouldn’t catch me sitting up there for all the fancy teacups in china.’ At the foot of the ladder she turned to face Harry. ‘Well, young man, that was a very interesting excursion,’ she announced in a mock, upper-class accent which had them all in a fit of the giggles again. ‘Thank you very much,’ she continued. ‘I….we look forward to seeing you at dinner, don’t we girls?’
The flush in her cheeks was visible to them all as she turned to walk down the passageway back to the cabin.
Maggie hung back, grabbing for the note from her pocket. ‘I wrote my note,’ she said, passing the folded page to Harry, feeling awkward at handing over her private words to a relative stranger, few words though they were. ‘You promise not to read it now will ye, just give it to your friend, so?’
‘Of course I won’t read it. Them’s your words written down and it’s none of my business what you’re saying or who you’re sayin’ it to. The Marconi boys will have to read it though y’know, in order to send it. You did know that?’
He looked at Maggie, feeling for her embarrassment.
‘Jesus, you daft eejit, of course I know that,’ she replied, cuffing him on the shoulder. ‘And thanks for it. For helping me, like. Are you sure they won’t be needin’ the money, ‘cos I don’t have that many shillings with me.’
‘They’ll do it as a favour to a friend,’ Harry replied. ‘Now don’t be worrying about it. I said I’d help you and I will. I’ll take it up to them straightaway. Now, get lost all of you, I’ve your lunch to get ready!’
The girls walked back to their cabin, chattering and commenting about what they had just seen.
‘Imagine girls,’ Peggy whispered. ‘If we work hard and marry well, we might sail back to Ireland on Titanic one day and sit among those ladies on that veranda. What about it eh? Wouldn’t that be a fine thing?’
‘It would Peggy,’ Katie replied wistfully. ‘It certainly would for sure. But for now, a full belly, clean hands and a game of rummy on the deck of one of the finest ships ever to sail the Atlantic ain’t too bad for three colleens from Ballysheen now is it?!’
Laughing, they dashed past the Uilleann piper who was walking back to his cabin. ‘Mornin’ ladies,’ he announced, raising his cap to them. ‘And fine form ye all seem to be in today.’
‘It’s my birthday,’ Katie shouted as they ran past him, ‘and what better place to be celebrating it eh Mister Daly?’
He smiled; their good humour infectious. ‘No better place indeed Miss,’ he replied. ‘No better place at all.
CHAPTER 18
For a few rare moments, Maggie found herself alone in the cabin. She was enjoying life on board the ship more than she thought she would, but sometimes it overwhelmed her. There was so much noise all the time, from the baby bawling where it lay in its suitcase in the cabin next door, to the constant drone of the engines and the endless fall of footsteps rushing along the corridor outside their cabin; crew and passengers coming and going at all hours of the day and night. They were noises Maggie wasn’t used to and she found it exhausting at times, yearning for the pitch blackness and total quiet of her familiar cottage bedroom.
When her aunt, Peggy and Katie were occupied elsewhere on the ship, as they were now, Maggie often took the chance to return to the cabin for some peace and quiet. She used the time to write in her journal or to read one of the letters from the packet Séamus had given to her. She had read three of the letters so far, one for each day she’d been on the boat. In the letters, he had written about the times they had spent together; the first three letters covering the months of January last year, when they had first danced together and on then to February and March. She’d been surprised by the tenderness of his writing and at how vividly he recalled the details of their time together during those months.