Although very tempted, he considered it best not to make the call to Grace at home – not yet. He was a wise man, preferring to wait for the responses from the two men to whom he had just forwarded the documents. His sense was that Bill O’Shea’s would be more than favourable, as for the Shepard boy, he had no idea, but hoped that Grace got the response she was hoping for.
*
The following day, Professor Peter Andrews was called by his colleague Bill O’Shea to inform him that the article submitted by Grace Butler, ‘The Girl Who Came Home’ would be published in two weeks’ time and as he didn’t have any contact details for Miss Butler, perhaps he could be so kind as to let her know and ask her to call the office with a brief by-line. They suspected that once the story went out, there would be a quite a bit of interest in Grace Butler and her great-grandmother.
Professor Andrews also received a visit from Jimmy Shepard, who thanked him for forwarding the envelope and assured him that he would attend to the matter immediately.
CHAPTER 26 - R.M.S Titanic, 15th April 1912
It was the stars she saw first as she clambered up on deck. The millions and millions of twinkling stars, illuminating the sky like the magical lands of her childhood imagination; the very same stars she used to look at in Ballysheen, captivated by their beauty and unfathomable distance.
The vast, empty space of the sky above her now seemed to make this ship, which she had gasped at in wonder and awe just a few days ago, feel suddenly very small and extremely fragile. At that moment, as the cacophony of noise and confusion on the deck engulfed her, she longed, more than anything in her entire life, to be back in her humble, stone cottage warming her fingers over the glow of the embers from the fire as Séamus sat by her side.
She looked around, turning her head wildly from side to side, standing on her tiptoes, peering over the heads of the masses of people swarming all around her. Where was Aunt Kathleen? She had to be here; had to be somewhere. ‘Kathleen!’ she screamed, shouting as loudly as she could. ‘Aunt Kathleen! It’s me! Maggie. I’m over here. Kathleen! Where are you?’
She’d never felt so far away from home, so utterly lost and terrified, in all her seventeen years of life.
‘Maggie, Maggie, over here.’ But it was Harry’s voice, not Kathleen’s, which brought her back into the moment. ‘We have to go up again,’ he shouted, trying to make himself heard above the noise of the panicked passengers and the continual hiss of steam from the funnels high above them. ‘There’s a few boats left on the upper deck.’
Maggie stood in a daze, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. All around her, people were running from one side of the ship to the other, some carrying deck chairs, others clutching onto rubber-rings which they’d found in the gift shop – everyone desperately searching for something which they might be able to hold onto in the water – something which might mean the difference between life and death.
Masses of bodies crowded around the boats which were the next to be lowered. Men were being held back, prevented from getting in, while women and children clambered in reluctantly, almost as frightened about the prospect of drifting endlessly through the freezing black night as they were about staying on the sinking ship. She watched with heart-wrenching helplessness as several women climbed back out of their lifeboats, unable, in the final moment, to leave without their husbands, fathers and brothers. She had never witnessed such a terrifying sight in all her life and stood frozen in fear.
Men called to women as they encouraged them to take to the lifeboats without them. ‘Be brave; no matter what happens, be brave and keep your hands in your pockets, it is very cold weather,’ she heard one man say to a woman, who Maggie presumed was his wife. Another woman was lifted, kicking and screaming into a boat. ‘Go Lottie!’ a man called after her. ‘For God's sake, be brave and go!’
She watched in horror as another woman, who clearly refused to leave her husband, lifted her young daughter and baby into a boat, entrusting them to the care of their nurse, before collapsing onto her knees on the deck, clinging to her husband’s ankles as the boat was lowered over the side. She could barely move as she watched these scenes of unimaginable grief unfolding in front of her, in every direction she looked, each scene more distressing and unbearable than the last.
Out on the water there were already several lifeboats rowing away from the ship, the tiny dots of white from the lifejackets worn by the occupants reflecting back off the lights from the ship which still lit up the water all around them. Other boats were being slowly lowered down the side of the ship, the crewmen shouting instructions to each other to make sure the boats were lowered evenly while the women inside screamed and sobbed. She saw one woman clamber out just as the boat was being lowered over the edge, running back to a man on the deck who embraced her.