The Girl Who Came Home - a Titanic Novel by Hazel Gaynor Page B
Authors: Hazel Gaynor
Tags: Historical
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that week. She thought it would be nice to pick up something special for Katie for her birthday present, a hatpin maybe, or a nice pair of gloves, she wasn’t really sure. Perhaps I’ll ask Mrs Walker-Brown, see what she would suggest , she thought to herself. Mrs Walker-Brown was very au fait with matters of style and taste and with her daughter, Vivienne, being a well-to-do actress in the silent movies she always seemed to be aware of the latest fashions. By a strange turn of coincidence, Vivienne Walker-Brown was also sailing on board Titanic, returning with her fiancée from a European vacation.
Seated in her favourite position by the window, Catherine watched the hustle and bustle of a normal New York work day taking place on the streets below; the noise of the tramcars rising up along with the crashing hooves of the horses pulling carts laden with crates of fruit and vegetables, the honking of the horns of motor cars and the young newspaper vendors shouting the morning’s headlines from their stands. All of these sounds were familiar to Catherine now, but she remembered how strange and loud and unpleasant this had all sounded to her when she had first arrived in the city, such a contrast to the peaceful hush of their quiet, country village. Now these were pleasing sounds to her ears; they were noises which suggested excitement, industry and prosperity. She smiled to herself as she took this all in, acknowledging how far she had come in a few short years and wondering what sounds Katie was hearing at that moment; what sights she and Vivienne Walker-Brown and the thousands of other passengers would be seeing. With the Walker-Brown girl travelling on a First Class ticket and Katie travelling on a Third Class ticket – assuming it had not been exchanged for the purchase of another cow – Catherine suspected that the view the two girls had from Titanic would be a very different one; defined not by the eye, but by their social ranking.
Arriving at her destination, she stepped down onto the sidewalk, just as she had done yesterday and as she had been doing for the last three years and walked down the tree-lined avenue to the Walker-Brown residence. She admired the smartly dressed ladies who passed her by and gazed wistfully at the elegant couples, strolling casually along with their arms linked, laughing at something one or another of them said.
Catherine hadn’t married; had never been asked, and hers had sometimes felt like a lonely existence among the thousands of people who inhabited this city. But, in just a few more days all that would change. In just a few more days, her darling sister would be with her and from that point in their lives, any journeys they had to make, they would make together. To Catherine Kenny, that was all that mattered. That fact alone gave her far more comfort than that which any of the fancy furs and soft silks draped about the bodies of these Upper West Side ladies walking past could ever give her.
As she walked up the stone steps to the imposing front door of her employer, it occurred to her that although people like the Walker-Browns, and those who occupied the other lavish houses on this street, may live a life of opulence and wealth, with her beloved sister arriving on these shores in just six or seven days, she considered herself to be the fortunate owner of riches far greater than any which their money could buy.
CHAPTER 11 - County Mayo, Ireland, 11 th April 1912
Dusk was settling over the rugged landscape, casting long shadows and shrouding the mountains in a blanket of mute darkness as Mary d’Arcy and eight other women walked slowly to the Holy Well on the edge of the village. They were a sombre group, making their short pilgrimage to pray for the safe passage of the fourteen who had left their homes just a day ago. To these eight women; some of them mothers, some of them sisters and some of them grandmothers of the departed, it already seemed as though their loved ones
Seated in her favourite position by the window, Catherine watched the hustle and bustle of a normal New York work day taking place on the streets below; the noise of the tramcars rising up along with the crashing hooves of the horses pulling carts laden with crates of fruit and vegetables, the honking of the horns of motor cars and the young newspaper vendors shouting the morning’s headlines from their stands. All of these sounds were familiar to Catherine now, but she remembered how strange and loud and unpleasant this had all sounded to her when she had first arrived in the city, such a contrast to the peaceful hush of their quiet, country village. Now these were pleasing sounds to her ears; they were noises which suggested excitement, industry and prosperity. She smiled to herself as she took this all in, acknowledging how far she had come in a few short years and wondering what sounds Katie was hearing at that moment; what sights she and Vivienne Walker-Brown and the thousands of other passengers would be seeing. With the Walker-Brown girl travelling on a First Class ticket and Katie travelling on a Third Class ticket – assuming it had not been exchanged for the purchase of another cow – Catherine suspected that the view the two girls had from Titanic would be a very different one; defined not by the eye, but by their social ranking.
Arriving at her destination, she stepped down onto the sidewalk, just as she had done yesterday and as she had been doing for the last three years and walked down the tree-lined avenue to the Walker-Brown residence. She admired the smartly dressed ladies who passed her by and gazed wistfully at the elegant couples, strolling casually along with their arms linked, laughing at something one or another of them said.
Catherine hadn’t married; had never been asked, and hers had sometimes felt like a lonely existence among the thousands of people who inhabited this city. But, in just a few more days all that would change. In just a few more days, her darling sister would be with her and from that point in their lives, any journeys they had to make, they would make together. To Catherine Kenny, that was all that mattered. That fact alone gave her far more comfort than that which any of the fancy furs and soft silks draped about the bodies of these Upper West Side ladies walking past could ever give her.
As she walked up the stone steps to the imposing front door of her employer, it occurred to her that although people like the Walker-Browns, and those who occupied the other lavish houses on this street, may live a life of opulence and wealth, with her beloved sister arriving on these shores in just six or seven days, she considered herself to be the fortunate owner of riches far greater than any which their money could buy.
CHAPTER 11 - County Mayo, Ireland, 11 th April 1912
Dusk was settling over the rugged landscape, casting long shadows and shrouding the mountains in a blanket of mute darkness as Mary d’Arcy and eight other women walked slowly to the Holy Well on the edge of the village. They were a sombre group, making their short pilgrimage to pray for the safe passage of the fourteen who had left their homes just a day ago. To these eight women; some of them mothers, some of them sisters and some of them grandmothers of the departed, it already seemed as though their loved ones
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