The Girl Who Came Home(52)

Harry waited patiently while he watched Bride note down the message coming in from another ship. He read the words over Bride’s shoulder.

‘From Mesaba to Titanic. In latitude 42* N, to 41*25* W, to longitude 52*30* W, saw much heavy pack ice and great number large icebergs, also field ice, weather good, clear.'

‘It’s an MSG - for the Captain,’ Bride said, folding it carefully, placing it into an envelope and writing Captain Smith on the front. ‘I have to deliver it in person.’

‘Oh go on, just send this one first,’ Harry cajoled. ‘Just this once. I swear there won’t be any more. I think it’s to her fella back home and I promised her.’

Bride sighed and unfolded the paper. ‘Alright then, just this one though. Now sod off will you and let me get on with my work.’

He put his headset back on, pushing the envelope with the ice warning for Captain Smith to one side of the desk, where it would remain, forgotten.

‘Thanks mate,’ Harry whispered, backing out of the room. ‘I owe you one.’

Bride ignored him, busily concentrating on his work.

Relieved to have Maggie’s message on its way, Harry made his way back down the corridor. A couple of Second Mate Officers, strolling casually towards him, nodded as they passed. He admired their dark blue Officers uniforms and decided at that moment that the next time he sailed on this ship, or any as magnificent, he would be wearing that uniform. His steward’s uniform looked well on him, and seemed to attract the attention of giggly, Irish girls, but an Officers uniform would look very well on him indeed. His mother had always told him dark blue brought out the colour in his eyes.

*

A short while after Harry left the radio room, Bride finished the last of his Cape Race passenger messages and unfolded the piece of paper Harry Walsh had given him. Exhausted from the night’s work, he started to tap out the words. From Maggie Murphy, Titanic to Séamus Doyle, Ballysheen, Co. Mayo, Ireland. Dearest Séamus, all is well. Titanic is a fine ship. I hope your Da is well. Don’t wait for me, ………..

The sudden jolt caused his finger to slip, transmitting the incomplete message. The interference in his ears startled him. His partner, Philips, emerged from the sleeping quarters at the back, rubbing his eyes against the sudden glare of the lights.

‘What the bloody hell was that?’

‘Dunno mate. It felt like an earthquake – can you get them in the Atlantic?’

‘Don’t be such an idiot. That wasn’t an earthquake. It feels like the engines have stopped. Go up to the bridge and see what you can find out will you. I’m knackered. I’m going back to bed.’

Bride left the room to make his way to the bridge.

*

The judder was barely noticeable, but it sent a dull vibration through Harry’s shoes all the way up to the cap on the top of head. He was returning to his cabin, having gone for a walk on deck to get some fresh air before turning in for the night. Standing at one end of the long Scotland Road crew passageway he grabbed onto the iron grille of the elevator door to steady himself.

‘What the hell was that?’ he said, aloud, although there was nobody else there.

He stood for a moment, the vibrations continuing all the way through the metal, up his hands and arms into his shoulders. It made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. Then it stopped and he heard a different sound, one he was familiar with. The engines had been put into reverse and that could only mean that they were stopping the ship.

He considered going down to the boiler rooms to ask the stokers what was going on, but thought he might get more sense out of Bride. The stokers could be curt at the best of times and if they were busy putting the dampers down they’d be less than pleased to see him.

He started to make his way back up the stairwells to the boat deck where he had been just a short while ago. As he turned to walk back down the Officers corridor towards the radio room, he heard banging on doors and shouts of, ‘All hands on deck.’

Leaning his head around the wall, he caught a glimpse of the two officers he’d walked past earlier. They were standing outside another Officer’s cabin, talking earnestly, their expressions serious. Straining to hear over the pounding of feet overhead and the shouts from the other officers, he caught snippets of their conversation.

‘…hard-a-starboard….iceberg….reversed the engines….taking in water…’

Taking in water?

Hardly able to comprehend what he was hearing, Harry carried on along the corridor, unnoticed among the anxious faces, hushed conversations and orders. He pushed open the Marconi room door. Bride and Phillips were both huddled over the radio equipment.