Heart of Disaster: A Titanic Novel of love and loss

by Rachel Wesson

  HEART OF DISASTER

  RACHEL WESSON

  If you ever visit Ireland, you will find numerous reminders of those who traveled on the Titanic. The exhibition in Belfast and the museum in Cobh, Co. Cork (Queenstown in the book as that was it’s name under the English.), are the two biggest ones. There are memorials in Galway, Mayo and other areas where large groups of Irish people left, never to return. There were many heroes on board that night, some whose names we know. Some, whose stories, never saw the light of day.

  According to my grandmother, Annie O’Callaghan (nee McGann), we had a family member who survived the sinking of the Titanic. Unfortunately, I wasn’t interested in family history back then. And now her generation has passed, nobody can remember the person’s name.

  To those, whose selfless acts, saved dozens of people on the Titanic. To those who survived and all those who died on the RMS Titanic. May you rest in peace.

  CONTENTS

  Irish phrases

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Authors note

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Rachel Wesson

  Irish phrases

  Just in case anyone gets confused, there are a couple of Irish expressions in the text.

  Craic - this is the Irish term used to describe having fun. Did you have great craic at the party? Did you have fun at the party?

  Childer - A slang term Irish women often used instead of children. My childer/my children. The poor childer/The poor children.

  Alannah - loved one/darling/term of endearment mainly between parents/child.

  Codladh sámh -sleep well

  I think that might be it but I am known to use Irish terms in my writing. Can’t help it really :-)

  Chapter 1

  Tuesday, April 9th, 1912. Ballinasloe, Co Galway.

  With tears streaming down her face, Kate milked the cow in the barn. The animal seemed to sense her distress as she kept trying to butt Kate with her head. Kate had fallen back into the hay a couple of times, spilling the milk from the pail.

  “Kate Maloney, enough of that. You will turn the milk sour, what’s left of it.”

  Kate almost fell off the milking stool at the sound of her adoptive grandmother’s irritated voice. It was so unlike Nell. The old woman put aside the broom she had been using and pushed Kate out of the way. Nell’s twisted old hands soothed the animal and the milk ran freely into the pail.

  “Nell, I don’t want to go to America. I want to stay here with you on this farm.”

  “You have to go, Kate. This farm isn’t big enough to support both of us. You’re young. You deserve more than trying to eek a living out of this ground. Your parents, God rest them, would want more for you.” Nell finished the milking, and wiped her hands before taking Kate’s hand, her voice softer now, “I know you are scared my darling girl, but you will be fine. America is full of opportunities and someday you will be able to come back and buy up land around here for miles around. You’ll wear the latest fashions and stylish hats. You’ll have all the old ones here staring at you. Now come on, dry your eyes. We have work to be done before we go to your party.

  “The wake, you mean.”

  “The American wake, nobody’s died girl and for that, we must be thankful.”

  Kate didn’t share Nell’s views. She hated normal wakes thinking it creepy to have a dead body in the house while everyone prayed, drank and made music around the deceased. The family and friends mourned together with the villagers who also wanted to mark the person’s passing or just fancied a drink at someone else’s expense. She knew people going to America rarely returned, hence the term American Wake. The people wanted to mourn those leaving but it still was rather weird to take part in your own wake.

  Chapter 2

  Later that evening, Kate, watched as her relatives and friends danced the night away outside Madden’s house. Micheal and Fiona Madden’s were Nell’s closest neighbor.

  “Evening, Kate.”

  “Evening, Mrs. Madden.” Just as Kate returned the greeting, Cathy and Seamus danced past them.

  “Mam, you should be dancing,” Cathy called.

  “Go away with ya, girl. I’m too old.” Mrs. Madden tore her gaze from her daughter. “I still can’t believe my two youngest are on their way to America. It’s a sad day for Ballinasloe, so it is.”

  Kate swallowed hard, trying not to feel guilty. She was thrilled, Cathy Madden, was coming with her to America. She didn’t think, she would be brave enough to leave her behind.

  “Kate, look at that eejit, Daniel Donnelly. He will have his poor mother in an early grave. Martha is too old for dancing that fast.”

  Kate glanced at the dancers. Mrs. Donnelly, was red-cheeked as she gripped Daniel’s arm.

  “I think he is trying, to distract his mam,” Kate said.

  Mrs. Madden smiled. She put her arm around Kate and squeezed her close. “You’ve got a kind heart, Kate. Don’t ever change.” Mrs. Madden coughed and moved away. “I best get inside and see how much whiskey my fella has had. He will miss Cathy something dreadful.”

  Mrs. Madden had reason to be concerned. The drink was flowing almost as fast as the women’s tears. Kate saw a number of men with suspiciously bright eyes but none of them would be seen crying in public. Nell ambled over to her.

  “Why are you not dancing, Kate?” Nell asked, fingering a piece of paper. Kate recognized the advertisement. Daniel had shown her earlier, it outlined the attractions of the steerage accommodation on RMS Titanic. Kate panicked. She didn’t think she could discuss anything about the ship. She caught Daniel’s eye. He strode over and held out his hand.

  “Kate, would you like to dance?”

  Only then did Daniel appear to notice Nell. He flushed. “Sorry Nell, I didn’t mean to intrude on your time with Kate.”

  “Don’t mind me, son. I’ve been reading the paper you gave to your mam.”

  Kate hid a smile. Most everyone k
new Nell couldn’t read. It wasn’t unusual given her age. But the old lady had her pride.

  “Did you see the food menu? It made me mouth water, so it did. I don’t think I will get off the ship in America. With food like that, I could stay on the Titanic forever.”

  “Daniel Donnelly! Typical man thinking with your stomach.” Nell’s eyes sparkled as she admonished him. “Your brother, Sean, will be thrilled to see ye. Tell him, he owes me a letter. He must have found a younger woman to replace me.”

  Kate and Daniel exchanged a smile at Nell’s joke. The old woman was about fifty years older than Sean Donnelly. Kate had vague memories attending the American Wake for the elder Donnelly boys.

  “Who could replace you, Nell?” Daniel glanced at Kate. “I can’t think of how many American wakes, I’ve attended and now it’s our turn.”

  Silence lingered. Kate blinked rapidly to stop her tears. She couldn’t look at Nell.

  Nell cleared her throat. “Tell me more about the RMS Titanic. From what your mam says, it sounds like a posh hotel.” Nell cackled before sniffing some snuff. “Not that I would know anything about hotels. Never stepped foot in one.”

  “I’m not one for hotels either, so can’t really compare. Most ships don’t offer a dining room in steerage. The Titanic has one with wooden tables and benches. Myself and Seamus are sharing a four-berth cabin. The men have a smoking room and the women have a room for reading or whatnot. We don’t have to bring our own food.”

  “’Tis back to your stomach. Kate, take the hint. Go find young Daniel, something to eat. He can keep me company.”

  Grateful for a chance to compose herself, Kate went in search of some sandwiches. When she returned, Nell was sitting alone. Nell looked up as Kate walked toward her.

  “His mam called him. I guess she wanted some time alone with her son.”

  Kate struggled to find her voice, because of the lump in her throat. Her hand shook as she handed Nell the plate of sandwiches. Nell’s fingers grazed hers. Kate looked up to find the old lady staring at her. It was now or never.

  “I can’t believe, I’m going. I know, I should count my lucky stars and be grateful for my good fortune. But, I don’t want to leave. I want to live here with you.”

  “Aw now, Kate,” Nell’s work-worn hands grasped Kate’s arm. “You got to go, love. You have a chance at a great life. Sure, haven’t all the ones coming home from America talked about the great time they have over there? The chances to make something of themselves. What have you got to look forward to here?”

  Unbidden, her eyes glanced toward Francis Blake, the man Kate had worshipped since she was knee-high to a grasshopper. She shuddered at how close she had come to making a mistake.

  Nell misread Kate’s reaction as a longing for Francis. “Now love, you can’t have him and that’s that. The son of an English landowner is never going to settle down with a local girl. No point in crying over spilled milk.” Nell looked in Blake’s direction and spat some snuff on the floor. “He was never the man for you. Your poor father would be spinning in his grave if he even knew you were looking in that direction. After what those English did to us? Sure, isn’t it their fault you find yourself on the way to America? If they had left your poor daddy alone, you and your mam could have lived here forever.”

  Kate had never told Nell about what Francis Blake had tried to do. She’d been too afraid of what Nell might do. The woman was old, but she had connections with those fighting for Ireland’s freedom. Nell would have been horrified if she knew what had almost happened and her reactions could have landed the old woman in trouble with the law. It was best for everyone that Kate and Cathy had kept the details of that horrible day to themselves.

  Kate still believed you shouldn’t judge someone by where they came from, so she tried to shut out Nell’s voice. Nell went on her favorite rant about the English landlords and how they had destroyed Ireland. She counted to ten as Nell started on her favorite subject, the famine.

  “I remember when I was a young, one and the roads were covered in people dying from hunger. What did those English swine do to help the starving? Did they give us food? Like heck they did. They put the brave men who tried to do the right thing for their families in prison or worse. Shipped them off to god-forsaken lands in Australia. And for what? Fishing in a stream on their land or catching a rabbit for the pot. What did they expect the men to do with hungry childer begging for food? Those Blakes did nothing. With their fancy clothes and big houses. Mark my words my girl, it's better off you are in America. There, everyone is equal. It doesn’t matter whether you are Irish or not. They treat everyone the same.”

  Desperate to escape the old lady’s lecture but not wanting to cause her pain, she looked around the room and sighed with relief when she spotted her best friend and fellow-traveler.

  “Nell, there’s Cathy. I just want to ask her something about the voyage. I will be back in a few minutes.”

  Kate ran rather than walked over to her friend.

  “Are you all right, Kate? You look a bit flushed,” Cathy said. She knew how Kate felt about Francis Blake and probably assumed she was flustered due to his presence. “Daddy had to invite Blake, although I don’t think anyone believed he would come.”

  “It’s not Blake. I don’t care about that idiot. He knows to stay away from me. It’s this.” Kate waved her hands around.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Cathy, I got to get out of here. It’s giving me the chills. It’s like someone died.”

  Cathy burst out laughing, something that didn’t sit well with Kate. She pouted as Cathy kept on laughing.

  “It is a wake. Sure, when will we ever see this lot again?” Cathy remarked before saying sternly, “Kate, take that look off your face and act your age. These people need to mark our going. Can’t you see it’s killing them to say goodbye to their loved ones knowing they probably will never see them again? Look at Mrs. Donnelly. The poor woman has lost nine children in all, three dead, two in jail in England and six in America. Now her favorite, Daniel, is off to America. The woman’s heart is broken.”

  Chapter 3

  K ate closed her eyes, taking a deep painful breath as guilt overwhelmed her. What Cathy said was true, the men and women of their village were showing them respect by giving them a living wake.

  “I’m an ungrateful brat, aren’t I?” Kate sat on the grass, her face in her hands.

  “You’re not. You’re upset.”

  “I am. All these people used the few pennies they had and some they didn’t to put together this feast. I’ve moaned to Nell when the old woman has been like a mother and grandmother combined.”

  “Nell loves you.”

  “I know. Look at how I repaid her. She probably regrets taking me in.”

  “Kate Maloney, that’s enough. Nell loves the bones of you, you are the granddaughter she never had. It isn’t just because the British soldiers killed your daddy at the same time as Nell’s sons. Guilt hasn’t made her feed and shelter you. She loves you.”

  Kate couldn’t speak.

  “Nell kept you at school when the rest of us were all out working to help our families. The best thing you can do, is get a great job and send her home some money. Not sit around sulking.”

  Kate clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms.

  “Kate, I’m not trying to upset you. You said Nell was terrified of going into the workhouse when she gets older. You can help her, if you go to America. Get a good job and earn lots of money. When Nell is too old to live alone, you can pay someone to give her a roof over her head.”

  Kate brushed the tears from her eyes. Cathy was right. Nell had spoken of her dread of ending up in the workhouse. Kate could make sure Nell had shelter. She stood and pulled Cathy to her feet. She hugged Cathy surprising her friend.

  “What was that in aid of?” Cathy said crossly, obviously embarrassed by the public show of affection.

  “I am so happy you’re coming with me. I cou
ld never say goodbye to you,” Kate replied. “You’re right as usual. I’m being selfish and not thinking of Nell and the rest of the people I love. Forgive me.”

  She didn’t wait for Cathy’s answer but went back to where Nell was sitting and threw her arms around the old lady.

  “I’m sorry for being such a wet blanket earlier. I am going to miss you, Granny Nell.”

  She felt Nell shudder with emotion. She hugged her closer, knowing it was unlikely they would see each other again.

  “I will miss you too, Alannah.”

  Nell’s use of the Gaelic term for loved one, almost broke Kate’s resolve. Kate straightened her shoulders, she had to be brave. Nell continued speaking.

  “You will have to write me lots of letters. Father Curry will read them to me. Promise me you will.”

  “I promise, Nell. I will send you the best shawl ever. Keep you warm in the winter months.”

  “That would be nice, Kate love.” Nell dabbed her eyes with the corner of a rather dirty looking hanky. “Now go on and dance. Let me see you smiling and having the craic. That’s how I want to remember you, girl.”

  Kate didn’t need to be told twice. She danced with just about every man in the village including Father Curry who waltzed her around the room. He stank of whiskey.

  “Look after Nell for me, won’t you, father?”

  “I will indeed, Kate. Sure, the woman will still be alive when I am six feet under.”

  “I don’t know about that, father. Nell likes to pretend she is younger than she is. She never complains but I’ve seen how much effort it takes for her to get out of bed. Her hands shake with age.”

  “Don’t fret, Kate. I’ll call on Nell often. As will Martha. Martha will need something to distract her.”

  “Thank you, father.”

  “Kate, you will remember your faith, won’t you?” Father Curry looked serious for a moment, pushing a mop of graying hair back from his sweat-covered face. “America is a good place but there are plenty of distractions for a young girl like yourself.”

  “I will, father.”

  “I know you think I am just an old priest, but I know the ways of the world and the temptations available. So, stay away from the drink and keep your virtue.”