On the third day, Mrs Shaw came into my room carrying Silver. The cat jumped from her arms and landed beside me on the bed. I was delighted to see her. I looked up at Mrs Shaw, who was smiling down at me.
‘Thank you for bringing her, Mrs Shaw.’
‘You are welcome, dear. I could see how agitated you were becoming. I thought she might help calm you down.’
She was right. Silver snuggled next to me and the steady rise and fall of her small body as she breathed soothed me. That night I slept for the first time without waking up terrified.
By the fourth day I was anxious for all my memories to come back. I forced myself to lose my fear of them. I wanted them out in the open. No matter who I turned out to be, I was ready to face it. It was then the miracle happened. My entire life came back to me, not in fragments, but in one whole piece. I remembered the farm in Donegal where I grew up. I saw my da sitting in silence by the fire, and my ma talking away to me about my future. And I saw Delia sitting on a white rock in the field, nose in a book just as I had seen her in an earlier image. Tears welled in my eyes as I realized she was my sister. I had been feeling so alone these last months that the fact I had a sister overwhelmed me. I saw my bedroom in the cottage and realized that the woman kneeling beside the bed with the candles all around it was my ma.
I sat straight up in bed. Dear God, my parents must think I’m dead. The thought sent shivers through me. I wondered if Delia was dead too. I’d not seen her since she ran after me on the boat, calling out my name. And I remembered Robert, the sweet lad who had taken me to breakfast in the first-class dining room. Was he dead as well?
The next morning, I got out of bed and went over to the window. I drew the curtains back and looked out on the front garden. It was a beautiful day and the sunlight flitted through the tree branches playing peek-a-boo. I felt light, as if a great burden had lifted from me, the same feeling I always had after I’d been to confession. I had finally remembered where I came from, and my family, and the journey to the Titanic. I even remembered the name of the man I was to work for – Aidan O’Hanlon.
I had remembered my sister Delia, but along with the memory came the fact that Ma and I had treated her like a servant. I could hardly believe I had acted like that and I was ashamed. I wondered again: was she dead or alive? I decided I would look on the survivor list. But there was likely to be more than one Delia; it was then I had to face the fact that, while I had remembered everything else, I still hadn’t remembered my own name. And without knowing our last name, how would I find out about Delia?
As I stared out the window, I saw Mrs Shaw’s car coming noisily up the driveway. She jumped out and, as usual, rushed towards the house. I realized then how fond I was of this woman. She’d been so good to me; what would have happened if she hadn’t taken pity on me?
I closed the curtains and went and lay back down. I was suddenly exhausted, my earlier happiness gone. A terrible thought came into my mind. How could I let on that my memory had come back and I knew the truth about my family and where I came from? If I told her, she would arrange to send me back home. And I realized I didn’t want that. I wanted to stay here.
DELIA
Two nights after Aidan and I sat together in the library while he drank whiskey and told me never to fall in love, the doorbell rang several times and excited voices rose in the hall. It was the company Mrs Donahue said would be arriving. I had meant to be upstairs and out of sight when the visitors arrived, but Mrs Donahue said Mr O’Hanlon wanted Lily kept up past her bedtime so he could introduce her to his guests. I suggested the child wear her favourite blue dress and I tied a matching ribbon in her long fair hair. She looked like a wee angel. When she was ready, I brought her down to the kitchen to wait.
Mrs Donahue had been in a fine tizzy most of the day, ordering Kathleen to scrub the dining room floor, dust the furniture, polish the silver and set the table for six. A young girl had been hired to help in the kitchen. By the time the visitors arrived, however, the house was a calm, cool oasis from the outside heat. Kathleen brought them drinks in the library.
‘You should see the style of them,’ she said when she came back into the kitchen. ‘There’re six of them, including himself. I counted one older married couple, a single gentleman and two single women with enough rouge and lipstick on them they could be floozies.’
Mrs Donahue banged a pot down on the counter. ‘Mind your tongue, Kathleen, ’tis not your place to be judging Mr O’Hanlon’s company. Now, get these serving dishes filled and ready to bring into the dining room when they sit down.’
I sat on a kitchen chair in the corner, Lily standing stiffly beside me. ‘You must do your best, Lily,’ I said. ‘Your father will be expecting you to be on your best behaviour. Try to smile, if you can, and maybe give a little curtsy. And I’ll be right there.’
I was so concerned that Lily do well, I forgot to be anxious about myself. It was only when Kathleen told me Lily and I were wanted in the dining room, that shyness threatened to paralyse me. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and took Lily by the hand.
The guests fell quiet as we entered, and all eyes turned on Lily. I squeezed her hand to reassure her. Aidan came over to where we stood. I fancied his gaze lingered on me longer than was proper. You’re imagining things, I told myself as I nervously smoothed down my navy-blue dress, the one with the white lace collar. I nudged Lily towards him.
He took her by the hand and led her to the nearest guest. I backed away into a dim corner of the room. As the guests gushed over Lily, I took my chance to look at the two women Kathleen had described. My first thought was that they could have stepped right off the first-class deck of the Titanic. Their satin dresses rustled as they moved, and fine necklaces glittered in the light of the crystal chandelier that hung above the table. Their pale white hands were adorned with diamond rings, and their hair was coiffed in the latest style; a ‘chignon’ Kathleen would have called it. They were not much older than myself, I thought, although their sophisticated bearing made them seem older.
As I watched them smile brightly at their host, one of them letting her gloved hand linger on his wrist, I was overcome with the sense of being invisible. Invisibility was not a new state for me – back home it had often spared me from my mother’s wrath – but this was different. I felt like a nobody – a plain little bird amongst the colourful peacocks – and my heart shrank inside me.
I tore my glance away from the women to see how Lily was doing. Her father was making a circle of the table, still holding her by the hand. She nodded solemnly to each guest and stood stoically as the sallow-faced single gentleman tickled her under the chin. And when one of the coiffed women pulled her to her bosom in an awkward hug, Lily wrinkled her nose – probably at the woman’s perfume.
When he was finished with the introductions, her father brought her back to me. ‘You may take her up to bed now, Miss Sweeney,’ he said. And, turning away from me, he went back to his guests.
I was about to leave when the older gentleman turned to look directly at me. ‘Sweeney?’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t be Delia Sweeney, by any chance?’
I felt dizzy and clutched Lily’s hand so hard she wrenched it away from me. The next minute seemed like an hour. My heart thumped in my chest and I was unable to utter a word.
Aidan O’Hanlon broke the silence. ‘Answer Mr Boyle’s question, Miss Sweeney.’
The minute he said ‘Boyle’, I knew exactly who the man was, for Boyle was the name of the master of the house where I was supposed to go to work. I looked anxiously towards the door, praying for a chance to escape. But there was to be no reprieve. By now the other guests had stopped eating and were staring at me with great curiosity. I began to sweat.
Mr Boyle addressed me again. ‘Come, don’t be shy, Miss Sweeney, it’s a simple enough question.’
I was trapped. Taking a deep breath, I muttered an answer. ‘N-No, my name is Nora, sir. Nora Sweeney.’
‘Perhaps you have a sister, the
n.’
‘Ah no, sir, I-I have no sisters.’
Mrs Boyle broke in. ‘There was a Nora Sweeney listed among the missing from the Titanic.’
‘I know, ma’am, but some of those on the missing list turned out to be survivors, l-like myself.’
My heart pounded as I said the words, and the two young women gasped. They gaped at me with open mouths, but Mrs Boyle kept talking.
‘It had been arranged for a Delia Sweeney to join our household staff, but the chit never arrived. She survived the voyage on the Titanic, that much we know since her name was on the survivors’ list. Therefore, we believe she is somewhere in New York, ungrateful hussy.’
Mr Boyle patted his wife’s arm. ‘That’s enough, dear. This girl sounds English, and Sweeney is a common enough name.’
‘Still,’ said Aidan O’Hanlon, ‘it exhibits poor character in this Delia Sweeney not to fulfil her obligation to you.’
Then he shrugged his shoulders. ‘You may go now, Miss Sweeney.’
After I put Lily to bed and read her a story, I returned to my own room and sat down in a chair, my spirits low and on the verge of tears. I thought I’d left the ‘imposter’ role behind me when I left Ireland. But it had followed me to New York – and this time it was my own doing. Tonight, I’d almost been caught out. I had hoped to disappear in New York, but the appearance of the Boyles in this very house told me that would be impossible. New York, even though it was home to millions of people, was as small as Kilcross when it came to the gentry. Was my past to follow me wherever I went?
I recalled the look on Aidan O’Hanlon’s face after the Boyles had finished quizzing me. His eyes had bored through me. I cringed at the thought that he might be suspicious. And from what he’d said about how he disapproved of those who didn’t fulfil their obligations, if he found out the truth, he would more than disapprove of me – he would dismiss me.
I got up to wash my face. Pull yourself together, I said to the face in the mirror. You made your bed and you must lie in it.
For the next few weeks after meeting the Boyles, I was skittish as a cat. Every time the doorbell rang, I raced upstairs in case it was the Boyles returning to challenge me on my story. I refused to go outside, blaming a summer cold, in case I should encounter them on the street. But as the days passed, the memory of that evening began to fade and, eventually, I was able to push it to the back of my mind.
I had also made excuses to Dom, even though I was afraid my actions would drive him away. I needn’t have worried. He called for me every Saturday night until I finally agreed to step out again. The truth was I had begun to look forward to his visits. We had fallen into an easy friendship; enjoying our time together. We had both survived a terrible ordeal, and that had forged a stronger bond than almost anything else could.
‘Kathleen’s been spitting mad at me ever since that first night you took me home,’ I said as we began to walk.
He shrugged. ‘Ah, sure Kathleen’s a lot like your Nora. She thinks every man should be in love with her.’
‘And are you?’ I teased.
He turned to face me. ‘Are you fecking joking me? Sure what would I ever see in Kathleen? She’s got a bob on herself, and for no good reason. You’re a good-looking girl Delia. No wonder she’s jealous of you.’
I stopped in my tracks. Had Dom just said I was good-looking? Never in my lifetime had such a thought ever crossed my mind. I had always lived in Nora’s shadow.
‘Ah now, who’s joking who?’
‘’Tis true, Delia. I suppose you never thought you’d be able to compete with Nora. But she’s gone now. ’Tis time you saw yourself for what you’re worth.’
He had turned to face me, and I could see by his earnest gaze that he meant every word he said. Suddenly uncomfortable, I hurried to change the subject. I linked my arm through his.
‘Come on now,’ I laughed, ‘or you’ll have to fight off the crowd of lads lined up to dance with me.’
One Saturday night I came into the house humming Irish tunes. The dancing had been especially lively, and the melodies still lingered in my head. As I closed the front door, Mrs Donahue came hurrying down the front hall, her finger to her lips.
‘Be quiet now, Nora,’ she whispered, nodding towards the library. ‘Mr O’Hanlon has company.’
The memories of the dinner party and the Boyles came flooding back and panic engulfed me. I stopped humming and made for the stairs. But Mrs Donahue grabbed my elbow. ‘Come with me,’ she said as she led me to the kitchen. She bustled about, taking two glasses down from a cupboard and pouring whiskey into a decanter. She put everything on a tray and thrust it at me.
‘Here, take these into them.’
I stared at her.
‘Well go on,’ she said.
‘But who’s in there?’
Mrs Donahue rolled her eyes. ‘’Tis Mr O’Hanlon’s father-in-law,’ she said, ‘poor Mary’s da. He’s the Right Honourable James Sullivan.’ She sniffed as she pronounced the name. ‘There’s always ructions when the two of them get together. Now go on in. They’ll stop the shouting when they see ye – they pay no heed to me at all. And, besides, I’ve to be getting on with the dishes.’
‘Where’s Kathleen?’ I said, hoping for a reprieve.
‘Still out gallivanting with some boyo. Now, go!’
She shoved me out of the kitchen. In the hallway I could hear the raised voices from the library. I wished Kathleen was here. She would have thought Aidan O’Hanlon and his father-in-law fighting was great craic and would have jumped at the chance to witness it. As for me, I hated confrontation, but I had no choice but to go in. I tapped on the library door, but the men kept shouting.
‘You’re a fool and you always were!’ It was the father-in-law’s voice, revealing a faint Irish brogue. ‘I knew you’d come crawling back to New York when you’d had enough of Texas. Damn ridiculous idea, going to look for oil! And dragging my poor Mary with you. Texas is what killed her, and you know that.’
A fist thumped on a table and Aidan’s voice rose, ‘Leave Mary out of this, you bastard, or—’
James Sullivan laughed. ‘Or what? There’s nothing you can do to me, my boy! I own this house. I bought it for Mary, and I can throw you out any time I please. And I’d do so if it wasn’t for the child.’
‘And I’d be happy to go!’
‘Go on then, you ungrateful spalpeen. Back to the Texas dirt where you belong. But you’ll not be taking Lily with you. I’ll fight you tooth and nail to keep her, mark my words.’
‘Lily is my daughter and, as soon as she is ready, I’m taking her back to Texas and you’ll never set eyes on either of us again.’ Aidan’s voice was so cold it sent chills through me.
Silence fell. I knocked on the door again, this time more loudly.
‘What is it?’ Aidan snapped.
I opened the door and went in. He stood in front of the fireplace, his face red. I hesitated. ‘M-Mrs Donahue asked me to bring in your drinks. W-Where shall I put them?’
‘Anywhere. Just pour them and leave!’
I could see his temples pulsating with anger. Quickly, I set the tray down on the nearest table and poured the drinks, my shaking hands causing some of the whiskey to spill.
‘Another servant?’ James Sullivan’s voice boomed from behind me. ‘I would have thought you had enough staff. And this one doesn’t seem very bright!’
I stiffened. All I wanted to do was escape. I picked up the first drink and brought it over to him. He took it without comment, but held me with such a piercing stare that, instead of feeling invisible, I felt exposed and naked. He had a big, powerful frame and his face had the florid look of a man who drank too much, but his blue eyes were keen. The odour of power radiated from him.
‘I must admit she’s good-looking though!’
Aidan’s eyes blazed. ‘Miss Sweeney is none of your business!’
At last I was able to back away from Sullivan’s scrutiny. Redfaced, I picked up the secon
d glass and handed it to Aidan. My hand grazed his and I felt as if I’d had an electric shock. Whether he felt it or not, I didn’t know. Then again, I thought, it might have just been my ragged nerves. The room had grown silent except for the heavy breathing of both men. A sudden storm had come up and fierce wind and rain rattled the windows. I took the opportunity to back out of the room.
‘Them two will be the death of me.’ Mrs Donahue sat at the kitchen table. ‘When they’re together there’s not a civil word spoken.’
I lifted the teapot and poured us both a cup. As I sipped, I looked around the kitchen with its gleaming pots and spotless white counters. It was much larger and grander than our kitchen in Donegal and it might have been a bit sterile had it not been for Mrs Donahue’s warm spirit which seemed to fill the place. I looked back at her and thought how fond I had become of this woman. Over the past months she had been a kind, reassuring presence in my life and I was suddenly very grateful to her. I reached over and patted her arm.
‘Thank you,’ I whispered.
If she heard me, she didn’t let on. She was obviously still upset with the men arguing in the library.
‘It goes back a long time,’ she said, as if I had not spoken. ‘James Sullivan never wanted Mary to marry Mr Aidan. He had in mind for her a banker or solicitor, not some restless feller with big dreams but not a penny to his name.’
‘But he’s always at business meetings,’ I said. ‘He must have some money.’
‘His da cut him off, but I’d say his ma left him some. He invested it all in the oil. I think now he’s out trying to raise more money so he can go back to Texas.’
I was intrigued. ‘And what did Mary think of all this?’
Mrs Donahue smiled, a faraway look in her eyes.
‘Mary could be as stubborn as her da when pressed. She told him she loved Mr Aidan and would go with him to the ends of the earth.’
The Titanic Sisters Page 12
