Séamus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘But, it was such a big ship Father – all the papers spoke of it being unsinkable and being made of triple-screws or something. I remember seein’ it in the papers with my own eyes – the pictures an’ all. It can’t have sunk - surely to God it didn’t sink.’
‘There are reports of around seven hundred survivors, mainly women and children although we do not yet know whether those who left from this Parish are among the fortunate ones.’ Father Mullins paused then, looking down at the floor, shuffling his feet as a pool of water gathered around him on the flagstones, the raindrops falling steadily from his overcoat. ‘It is a truly terrible business. A terrible business indeed. It was Peggy Madden’s sister who suggested I come and speak to you. I understand you are friendly with Maggie Murphy who was travelling with her aunt, Kathleen Murphy.’
‘Yes, yes – I am. That’s right.’ Séamus remembered then the telegram message which had been delivered to him just a few hours earlier. ‘But, I just received a message from Maggie,’ he said, rushing over to the chair and picking up the telegram, showing it to the Priest as if he wouldn’t otherwise believe him. ‘Look. Here, see. It’s from the R.M.S Titanic. It’s franked and everything.’
Father Mullins studied it for a moment, before placing it carefully on the table and speaking in an almost whisper. ‘Yes Séamus, I see. A very unfortunate coincidence. You see it shows us here that the message was transmitted on the night of April 14th. That was the night, we believe, the incident occurred.’
Unable to comprehend what he was being told, Séamus leant against the kitchen table, pressing his palms hard to the cool, solid surface as if he were clinging onto it for his life. He stayed like this for some time, his mind reeling, his thoughts racing as Father Mullins relayed all the information he had himself been given. It was now a case of waiting for further confirmation and for news of any survivors. They were to prepare themselves for the worst, he warned, before leading them both in prayer.
*
For seven days, Séamus and the other villagers of Ballysheen wandered around in a daze, unsure of what to think or what to believe. Rumours skirted the town about reports in the local newspapers that all of the females had been saved. Others suggested that everyone had been lost. A farm labourer reported that he had seen Maggie Murphy’s name among a list of survivors printed in The Western People which was being passed around at the market. It was impossible for Séamus to allow himself to believe anything until he heard from Maggie himself, or saw her dead body.
There was a strange numbness about the village; people wouldn’t look each other in the eye, afraid to suggest either hope or despair, not knowing which emotion to express from among the many they were feeling.
It was Thomas Durcan, the White Star Line agent himself, who finally arrived with the tragic news. Families watched anxiously, hidden inside the dark interior of their homes, as he walked with Father Mullins, knocking firmly on door after door to convey the news of what had become of their loved ones.
The two men walked, ashen-faced, from home to home, the wailing and crying from within telling anyone passing what the fate of their family members was. Mothers were inconsolable, fathers wept for their lost sons and daughters. The grief and suffering was unbearable to behold.
Everywhere he went, Séamus overheard hushed conversations and anxious whispers; secret, almost forbidden, exchanges between neighbours of how individuals had reacted to the news.
‘Poor Ellen Joyce’s father was sellin’ a cow at market to get back the money he’d paid for her passage,’ one woman whispered to another.
‘Young Michael Kelly’s grandmother can’t sleep for nightmares, thinking that the sharks have his poor, dead body,’ another said.
It chilled his heart, and through it all he recalled his dream from the night his father died and reflected on Maggie’s telegram.
Some families were left hoping, with names so similar to their loved ones showing on the lists of survivors, only to be rocked to their core when it was established that there had been confusion and, in fact, their relative had been lost. So far, it was known that all of the fourteen travellers had been lost, with the exception of Peggy Madden, who had survived by clinging to a capsized lifeboat.
Séamus was at the lake, throwing stones into the water when he felt Father Mullin’s hand on his shoulder. He’d been dreading the moment the man would speak with him and he squeezed his eyes shut tight, hoping to block out the reality of the news he was about to hear. He barely heard the Priest when he spoke; the words seeming to flutter and drift around him like damsel flies.