by Diane Hoh
She touched her throat again.
“Oh, I know, but Mary says you’ll sing again. Not for a while, though. Maybe you could help me get goin’ on the book till then? When you’re feeling’ better, I mean. And then when you’re singin’ again, I promise I’ll come. “ ’Twas pigheaded of me not to. If you want me to, that is.”
I WANT AND I WANT IRELAND SOMEDAY
Paddy nodded. “I been thinkin’ on that. I guess I’d like to see my ma and da again. And granda. I should be tellin’ them how brave Bri was. They’d like knowin’ that.”
YOU MEAN IT
“Yes, I mean it. Some day. If the book sells and there’s money enough. I mean it.”
PROMISE
“I promise.” Paddy bent to kiss Katie’s aching throat.
She reached down and gently tugged on his hair to lift his head up. Then she began tapping the blocks again. SING PROMISE
Paddy laughed. “Are you daft? You’re the singer, not me.”
PLEASE SING IT
He was so glad she was alive, that she hadn’t died, not only on the Titanic, but again in Agnes Murphy’s roominghouse. The months without her had been miserable and he had not expected them to end. He had thought to go on forever without her. The thought had brought a constant ache to his chest. Now, he would do anything to prove that he never intended to let her go again. He would even sing, if that was what it took.
“You’ll be regrettin’ this,” he said, “as will everyone else in this ward.” But then he sat back in the chair, still holding Katie’s hands, and he lifted his head and began to sing in a clear Irish tenor, “I’ll take you home again, Kathleen…”
Katie closed her eyes. But she was smiling.
Epilogue
THEY HAD COME TOGETHER once again, two years after the tragedy, to gather at the Seamen’s Church Institute in New York City. In some faces the pain had eased a bit, in others it was still as fresh and raw as it had ever been.
Holding tightly to Paddy’s hand, Katie gazed up at the Memorial Lighthouse and thought of Brian. She had meant what she said to Paddy. Brian was not in the ocean, he couldn’t be. She was just as certain that in the warm, safe refuge he had found, he was pleased that his brother was here now, with her, that they were still together and always would be. He would understand how Paddy still struggled with his book, but be proud that he hadn’t given up, that he kept trying. Paddy would finish the book one day, and they would both thank Edmund Tyree for his patience, and Belle for all her help.
She hadn’t given up hope of one day getting her voice back. The doctors Paddy took her to were encouraging. He teased her, saying he liked her hoarse, dry whispering. But she sorely missed the singing. Flo had been so kind, bringing flowers and magazines to Lottie’s house, sometimes small toys for Bridget, who was healthy and active again. Flo had never once said, “Didn’t I tell you the smoke would ruin your voice?” She was a good woman.
Paddy hadn’t forgotten his promise to take her back to Ireland. He mentioned it every once in a while. When he was in a really good mood, he even sang the song for her again. They would need money for the trip, and more important, the courage to board a ship again.
Once there, they might stay, they might not. Did it really matter? They were alive when she, at least, might not have been, and they were together. It wasn’t the place that mattered. It was, Katie had decided, who was with you, wherever you were, that mattered.
Elizabeth felt a measure of peace for the first time since she’d begun attending the memorial services honoring her father and so many others lost on the Titanic. Last year at this time, her dreams had seemed to disappear along with the ship itself. Now, at last, she was beginning to fulfill them. She loved college. It was everything she had hoped it would be. Max was painting well … she’d seen some of his new work, wonderfully detailed New York scenes that she felt certain would draw positive attention. Her mother, while never ceasing to complain that she saw too little of her daughter, was at least civil to Max now. That was progress.
They still had a long way to go. But they had managed to survive a monumental disaster at sea and, almost more difficult, they had survived two years of grief and adjustment. Elizabeth wasn’t sure how, exactly. There had been many times when she had doubted they would manage. But they had.
Max said occasionally, “We’ve been through the worst. It can only get better from here on in.”
Perhaps he was right.
“Those we loved and lost…” a speaker’s voice broke into her thoughts.
No one spoke then as the ball in the Titanic Memorial Lighthouse mounted on the rooftop of the Seamen’s Church Institute in New York City dropped once again, in memory of fifteen hundred people lost at sea.
A Biography of Diane Hoh
Diane Hoh (b. 1937) is a bestselling author of young-adult fiction. Born in Warren, Pennsylvania, Hoh grew up with eight siblings and parents who encouraged her love of reading from an early age. After high school, she spent a year at St. Bonaventure University before marrying and raising three children. She and her family moved often, finally settling in Austin, Texas.
Hoh sold two stories to Young Miss magazine, but did not attempt anything longer until her children were fully grown. She began her first novel, Loving That O’Connor Boy (1985), after seeing an ad in a publishing trade magazine requesting submissions for a line of young-adult fiction. Although the manuscript was initially rejected, Hoh kept writing, and she soon completed her second full-length novel, Brian’s Girl (1985). One year later, her publisher reversed course, buying both novels and launching Hoh’s career as a young-adult author.
After contributing novels to two popular series, Cheerleaders and the Girls of Canby Hall, Hoh found great success writing thrillers, beginning with Funhouse (1990), a Point Horror novel that became a national bestseller. Following its success, Hoh created the Nightmare Hall series, whose twenty-nine novels chronicle a university plagued by dark secrets. After concluding Nightmare Hall with 1995’s The Voice in the Mirror, Hoh wrote Virus (1996), which introduced the seven-volume Med Center series, which charts the challenges and mysteries of a hospital in Massachusetts.
In 1998, Hoh had a runaway hit with Titanic: The Long Night, a story of two couples—one rich, one poor—and their escape from the doomed ocean liner. That same year, Hoh released Remembering the Titanic, which picked up the story one year later. Together, the two were among Hoh’s most popular titles. She continues to live and write in Austin.
An eleven-year-old Hoh with her best friend, Margy Smith. Hoh’s favorite book that year was Lad: A Dog by Albert Payson Terhune.
A card from Hoh’s mother written upon the publication of her daughter’s first book. Says Hoh, “This meant everything to me. My mother was a passionate reader, as was my dad.”
Hoh and her mother in Ireland in 1985. Hoh recalls, “I kissed the Blarney Stone, which she said was redundant because I already had the ‘gift of gab.’ Later, I would use some of what we saw there in Titanic: The Long Night as Paddy, Brian, and Katie deported from Ireland.”
An unused publicity photo of Hoh.
Hoh with her daughter Jenny in Portland, Oregon, in 2008. Says Hoh, “While there, I received a call from a young filmmaker in Los Angeles who wanted to make The Train into a film. They ran out of money before the project got off the ground. Such is life.”
Hoh in 1991, addressing a class at the junior high she had attended in Warren, Pennsylvania.
A 1995 photo taken in Austin, Texas, with Hoh’s grandchildren. Says Hoh, “Although my deadlines for Nightmare Hall were tight, I made time for my grandchildren: Mike, Alex, and Rachel. I'm so glad they live here.”
A current photo of Hoh at home in Austin, Texas.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmit
ted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 1998 by Diane Hoh
cover design by Andrea Uva
978-1-4532-4819-5
This edition published in 2012 by Open Road Integrated Media
180 Varick Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
EBOOKS BY DIANE HOH
FROM OPEN ROAD MEDIA
Available wherever ebooks are sold
FIND OUT MORE AT WWW.OPENROADMEDIA.COM
follow us: @openroadmedia and Facebook.com/OpenRoadMedia
Videos, Archival Documents, and New Releases
Sign up for the Open Road Media newsletter and get news delivered straight to your inbox.
FOLLOW US:
@openroadmedia and
Facebook.com/OpenRoadMedia
SIGN UP NOW at
www.openroadmedia.com/newsletters
