Catherine chanced a half-smile in the general direction of the two women, the excitement in the room impossible to ignore.
‘Isn’t that terrific news,’ Emily enthused, almost acknowledging Catherine’s presence, ‘and how wonderful to have dined with Captain Smith himself! I believe he is to retire after his arrival in New York. Twenty-six years at sea – no wonder he is ready to retire after all that rocking from side-to-side. It’s a wonder the man can walk in a straight line at all!’ The two sisters laughed heartily at Emily’s joke. ‘I presume the dinner was in honour of the many years service he has given to the White Star Line,’ she continued. ‘I suspect it nearly killed that dreadful Bruce Ismay to bestow such an honour upon him.’
The sisters set to gossiping then about the many millionaires and influential businessmen travelling on Titanic, the most interesting topic of conversation seeming to be about Mr Astor and the scandal of his recent divorce and the disgrace of his hasty marriage to a young girl, only nineteen-years of age. ‘And him nearly fifty years old. Goodness me, he’s old enough to be her father.’
Catherine busied herself, not interested in their idle gossip, her mind racing at the prospect of her sister arriving tomorrow - a whole day earlier than expected.
As she finished for the day, she plucked up the courage to speak to Mrs Walker-Brown about her hours of work the following day. ‘I was wondering whether it might be acceptable for me to start work an hour earlier tomorrow so as I can leave a little earlier than usual,’ she explained as demurely and politely as possible. ‘I couldn’t help hearing you mention earlier that Titanic is expected to arrive a day early – and I would love to be at the terminal when my sister arrives.’
Distracted by her own excitement at the prospect of Vivienne and Robert’s arrival and the setting of a date for their wedding, Emily Walker-Brown gave her consent. ‘Oh, yes. Of course. I do keep forgetting that you have someone on the ship also! With all Vivienne’s talk of the grandeur of the First Class accommodations, it’s easy to forget that there are others travelling in the lower portions of the ship. That will suit me anyway as I will be asking the chauffeur to drive me to the docks so I can welcome Vivienne and Robert off the ship myself. They say that there will be quite some party to welcome Titanic – I shouldn’t wonder that half of New York will turn out for a look at her!’
Catherine left then to make her way home. It was later than usual, having stayed on a while longer to attend to a few extra chores and make sure that her employer had absolutely no reason to keep her late the following day, as she was apt to do whenever she had visitors arriving.
Idly gazing out of the El train window from her usual seat, she noticed a large number of people gathered outside the White Star Offices on Broadway. It wasn’t her usual stop, but she alighted, drawn by the scenes of the crowds gathered there and wanting to confirm the expected arrival time of Titanic for herself.
Walking towards the mass of people gathered on the sidewalk, she sensed a strange air of tension and confusion. Men and women rushed up and down the stone steps at the front of the offices with a profound sense of urgency. Passers-by turned their heads to observe the commotion as they strolled by, some stopping those already converged outside the building to enquire as to what was happening. Police officers on foot and mounted on horseback moved among the crowds which spilled off the sidewalk into the road, trying to restore a sense of calm and order. Motorcars and horse-drawn carts stopped in the middle of the road as the occupants conversed with the officers or with the uniformed White Star Line officials who had braved the crowds to pass among them and relay information.
Catherine’s gaze fell on a group of women, dressed in the finest clothing and wearing the most impressive headwear. They stood alongside humble, conservatively attired domestics like herself, who, in turn, stood next to smartly dressed gentlemen in bowler hats and ties, themselves standing alongside dock workers with the grime of a day’s hard labour still evident across their hands, faces and clothing. All of society, it seemed, was gathered there at that moment; all divisions of rank and social class forgotten.
Moving into the throng, Catherine overheard fragments of conversation.
‘An iceberg apparently. She’s limping back to Belfast.’
‘Well, I heard she sank like a stone. They didn’t stand a chance.’
‘My cousin works for the White Star Line and he reliably informs me that Captain Smith personally ensured that all the women and children were safely removed in the lifeboats before any men were permitted to board, himself included.’