On any given day the chat around the breakfast table would have been more about the chores around the farm, the price of things, the upcoming match at the weekend, etc. But today the sounds of the farm animals waking up seemed to be the only thing breaking the silence in the kitchen.
Brian glanced over at his mother and wondered how she could wash dishes and dry her tears at the same time. Her heart was breaking but he told himself, this is life, hundreds of thousands have gone to America before me, she’ll get over it. He desperately wanted to go over and console her, but all the talking and arguments had run their course. Today was the day.
Mullingar in the midlands had seen more than its share of forced emigration and the Whelan family had been lucky to have escaped that dreaded misfortune. Up until today, that was.
Brian’s mother brought a fresh pot of tea to the table. He couldn’t help but make one more attempt to console her. “It’s only America mam not Australia, it’s not like the old days when you left and were never seen or heard from again, sure ye might even come over to visit us for a holiday.” He winked at his brother in a way that suggested Patrick might add something to support him. But Patrick didn’t get a chance.
“Go to America? For a holiday? Are you mad? Who in their right mind would even think of such a thing? There’s something wrong with you boy, I worry about you, no one goes to America just for the fun of it, and now you’re talking about us going over there to visit you, are you out of your mind? You have a good job, money in your pocket and a lovely girl that you’re going to drag off to the other end of the world against her family’s wishes and they’re not too pleased about that at all boy.”
Brian couldn’t put up much of an argument to his mother’s logic but Patrick made an attempt to soothe the situation. “Ah sure look ma, the big steam ships are crossing the Atlantic now in record time, sure it won’t be long now before people will start coming back to Ireland for holidays, aren’t the rich Americans starting to fill those ships now for visits to France and the likes, times are changing mam, changing for the better be Jazus, sure Brian will send ya the money won’t ya Brian.” He smiled at Brian and received an approving wink for his trouble but he also received a wallop of a damp tea towel across the ear for his blasphemy. “Holiday to America? Holiday to America? You’re as bad as that ejit, and even if he did send the money, there’s better things to be spending it on than traipsing around the world like millionaires, and what do you think people would say about that? I’ll tell you what they’d say, “The Whelans have notions, they’re gone sailing across the Atlantic just for a Holiday, did you ever hear the likes of it?” That’s what they’d say, sure we’d be the laughing stock of the whole parish, the whole country in fact, Glory be to God sure they’d run buses from all over the country for people to come and stare at us. “They’re the ones who went to America just for a holiday,” they’d say. And what do you think Father McGrath would say about that madness? We’d be denounced from the pulpit for such extravagance. There’ll be no excursions to America for anyone in this house let me tell ye.” She allowed herself a smile at the very thoughts of it and dismissed their foolishness with a wave of her tea towel.
Brian glanced over at his mother and wondered how she could wash dishes and dry her tears at the same time. Her heart was breaking but he told himself, this is life, hundreds of thousands have gone to America before me, she’ll get over it. He desperately wanted to go over and console her, but all the talking and arguments had run their course. Today was the day.
Mullingar in the midlands had seen more than its share of forced emigration and the Whelan family had been lucky to have escaped that dreaded misfortune. Up until today, that was.
Brian’s mother brought a fresh pot of tea to the table. He couldn’t help but make one more attempt to console her. “It’s only America mam not Australia, it’s not like the old days when you left and were never seen or heard from again, sure ye might even come over to visit us for a holiday.” He winked at his brother in a way that suggested Patrick might add something to support him. But Patrick didn’t get a chance.
“Go to America? For a holiday? Are you mad? Who in their right mind would even think of such a thing? There’s something wrong with you boy, I worry about you, no one goes to America just for the fun of it, and now you’re talking about us going over there to visit you, are you out of your mind? You have a good job, money in your pocket and a lovely girl that you’re going to drag off to the other end of the world against her family’s wishes and they’re not too pleased about that at all boy.”
Brian couldn’t put up much of an argument to his mother’s logic but Patrick made an attempt to soothe the situation. “Ah sure look ma, the big steam ships are crossing the Atlantic now in record time, sure it won’t be long now before people will start coming back to Ireland for holidays, aren’t the rich Americans starting to fill those ships now for visits to France and the likes, times are changing mam, changing for the better be Jazus, sure Brian will send ya the money won’t ya Brian.” He smiled at Brian and received an approving wink for his trouble but he also received a wallop of a damp tea towel across the ear for his blasphemy. “Holiday to America? Holiday to America? You’re as bad as that ejit, and even if he did send the money, there’s better things to be spending it on than traipsing around the world like millionaires, and what do you think people would say about that? I’ll tell you what they’d say, “The Whelans have notions, they’re gone sailing across the Atlantic just for a Holiday, did you ever hear the likes of it?” That’s what they’d say, sure we’d be the laughing stock of the whole parish, the whole country in fact, Glory be to God sure they’d run buses from all over the country for people to come and stare at us. “They’re the ones who went to America just for a holiday,” they’d say. And what do you think Father McGrath would say about that madness? We’d be denounced from the pulpit for such extravagance. There’ll be no excursions to America for anyone in this house let me tell ye.” She allowed herself a smile at the very thoughts of it and dismissed their foolishness with a wave of her tea towel.
The family had always thought that Brian and the lovely Eileen would forget this mad notion of emigrating to America where they’d live their entire lives and never be seen again. Their children would be brought up as Americans, little foreigners who played different games, talked differently, had different needs and whims. But Brian had been right about one thing, travel to America was becoming a regular event, and he knew that sooner or later Irish people would start returning back for holidays and maybe even returning to live, having prospered in America. It wasn’t too far-fetched a notion at all despite what his mother thought. Ireland had benefited greatly in the last century from the millions of dollars sent back from that wonderful place. He told himself, “me mam will be proud of me when she sees all the money I send back, wait and see.” And while Brian was entertaining thoughts of making his mother proud, her thoughts were of her future grandchildren. She, like millions before her would have to observe their growth and progress through photos from across the Atlantic. She did have to admit that times were changing, maybe she would live to see her grandchildren. Maybe at some time in the future they would actually come to Ireland for a visit. She tried to imagine what Brian and Eileen’s children would be like. Would they be spoiled from a life of extravagance? Would they be brought up with the same values and traditions as Irish children? Or would they be critical of their humble Irish heritage? Sure they’d laugh at us. Little strangers, that’s what they’d be.
Brian’s mother may have had some consolation had Eileen been making the trip with him but she wouldn’t be joining him for a few months due to pressure from her family. It had been agreed that Brian would go to America on his own and get settled in, find a job and a place for them to live before Eileen would join him. Well, that in itself was a source of comfort as she secretly hoped that Brian would find it hard to settle without Eileen and come back home. They had actually heard of a fellow from Limrick that had come back home from America, didn’t like it at all, homesick they called it. She told herself, he could be home in a few months, maybe even in a few weeks.
Of course Brian understood his mother’s argument, nobody was being forced to emigrate anymore, and it wasn’t as though it was still the 1800’s when people were driven out by poverty, starvation and hopelessness. It was now the 1900’s, times were changing for the better, still, in his mind America was the place to be. He knew he didn’t really have to go, his mother was right, there was plenty of work to keep him at home if he really wanted to. As a roof thatcher his trade was in demand, people were going back to the thatched roofs now having tried the new fangled slate and corrugated tin roofs with money sent back from America. But these new roofs, while they did look modern and efficient, they were anything but. They just didn’t hold in the heat like the thatch would and people wanted their old roofs back.
The word emigration seemed so final, but to Brian it was an adventure, a journey driven by excitement not by poverty or a need to better oneself. Just an exciting chapter in his life. And Eileen was just as thrilled about, both of them were even more thrilled about the modern luxurious ocean going liners that were indeed making the trip in days now instead of weeks. Maybe it would be only a matter of time before people started returning to Ireland for holidays.
Brian’s mother may have had some consolation had Eileen been making the trip with him but she wouldn’t be joining him for a few months due to pressure from her family. It had been agreed that Brian would go to America on his own and get settled in, find a job and a place for them to live before Eileen would join him. Well, that in itself was a source of comfort as she secretly hoped that Brian would find it hard to settle without Eileen and come back home. They had actually heard of a fellow from Limrick that had come back home from America, didn’t like it at all, homesick they called it. She told herself, he could be home in a few months, maybe even in a few weeks.
Of course Brian understood his mother’s argument, nobody was being forced to emigrate anymore, and it wasn’t as though it was still the 1800’s when people were driven out by poverty, starvation and hopelessness. It was now the 1900’s, times were changing for the better, still, in his mind America was the place to be. He knew he didn’t really have to go, his mother was right, there was plenty of work to keep him at home if he really wanted to. As a roof thatcher his trade was in demand, people were going back to the thatched roofs now having tried the new fangled slate and corrugated tin roofs with money sent back from America. But these new roofs, while they did look modern and efficient, they were anything but. They just didn’t hold in the heat like the thatch would and people wanted their old roofs back.
The word emigration seemed so final, but to Brian it was an adventure, a journey driven by excitement not by poverty or a need to better oneself. Just an exciting chapter in his life. And Eileen was just as thrilled about, both of them were even more thrilled about the modern luxurious ocean going liners that were indeed making the trip in days now instead of weeks. Maybe it would be only a matter of time before people started returning to Ireland for holidays.
Brian’s father was just as upset as his mother but kept his emotions to himself. The twenty minute journey to Mullingar was done in silence. The forced conversations in the fifteen minute wait for the bus revolved around the weather and the blooming daffodils. Brian couldn’t wait for the bus to come and alleviate this awkwardness between him and his entire family. Eileen and her older brother had also come to see him off and the small talk between them all was painful.
Brian would take the bus to Port Laois where he would board the train for Cork via Kilkenny, Waterford and a dozen or so small villages along the way. His single suitcase contained mostly clothes but taking up most of the room was his granddads old fiddle passed on to him by his father who had painstakingly wrapped it in a heavy blanket for safekeeping. “Look after that auld fiddle now boy,” his father had said.
Brian would take the bus to Port Laois where he would board the train for Cork via Kilkenny, Waterford and a dozen or so small villages along the way. His single suitcase contained mostly clothes but taking up most of the room was his granddads old fiddle passed on to him by his father who had painstakingly wrapped it in a heavy blanket for safekeeping. “Look after that auld fiddle now boy,” his father had said.
The steam train rattled and swayed as it chugged along the Waterford coastline. The farewells and parting tears had all been shed. Brian gazed out the window and smiled as he pictured what his mother would have said had she known of his disaster only hours after he had left Mullingar. He thought back on something she had said, “I have a bad feeling about this trip Brian please don’t go, something bad is going to happen.” Well she had been right, but it would be a couple of months before a letter from America would inform them of his catastrophe. Losing all his possessions off the top of the bus somewhere between Mullingar and Port Laois had been bad enough but losing the old fiddle upset him the most. He loved that old fiddle as much as he loved his granddad.
He placed his hand on his chest and felt around for the holy medal that his mother had given him. Right now he placed more of a sentimental value on it over its religious aspect. He was slightly amused to think that, the medal, a ham sandwich and the clothes on his back were the only things that he possessed in the entire world at that point in time. He would eat the sandwich but he’d die before parting with that holy medal.
He cursed his bad luck but tried to look on the bright side, at least he had a few bob in his pocket, and maybe, just maybe, the fiddle that had been wrapped in that heavy blanket and tied with twine may have actually survived the fall and quite possibly go on bringing delight and pleasure to music lovers for generations to come. He thought about his school teacher Mister Walsh who would get the class to write essays on various subjects such as, “An old boot tells its story.” Brian thought about the fiddle and the stories it could tell. He smiled as he thought what his mother would say in times of disaster. “Ah sure the story could always be worse,” she would have said. Irish mothers say that all the time, even if you fell out of a tree and broke both your legs, they’d be thanking God that you weren’t killed.
His thoughts were interrupted by the shrieks of alarm from the other passengers as they scrambled in panic to close the windows. But it would take more than a puff of black smoke from the steam engine to dampen their spirits, for it would seem from their energized chatter that they too were bound for America. He found their comments entertaining. “The Golden mountain, the Chinese call it,” one ecstatic youth said.
“I have a sister in New York, she has a job lined up for me,” another said.
“My brother will be there to meet me,” a girl said. Others added their approving comments and upbeat stories, nearly all of them remarking on the amount of money to be made in America. Money was certainly the most talked about subject, which wasn’t all that odd really when you consider that money and America have always gone hand in hand. And the lack of it, and poverty was all too widespread in Ireland. The excitement was contagious, he was amused at some of the immature comments being expressed. It was as though the old song about picking up gold in the streets of America had influenced some of them into making this life changing decision. The chatter went on. Strangers were openly showing their excitement. “My uncle owns a pub in Chicago,” a young man said. “My cousin is a foreman on the canals, they make great money,” another said. A bright eyed well dressed girl said, “My sister sent me the fare and all these clothes, she’s a nanny and a cook, when she left Ireland she couldn’t boil water.” They all laughed. Most of them were Brian’s age and he knew they would have all shared the same dreams and fantasies.
But some were so naive that he wondered how they’d survive in America. “A seagull, I just saw a seagull.” One excited lad shouted having just seen his first seagull. “The sea, there’s the sea, my God look at it.” There was a scramble to the left side of the train to get a look at the sea. “Look at them,” he thought,” they’re thrilled beyond words about being on a train, and now about seeing the sea for the first time, how are they going to react when they get to America?” The laughter rang out and the conversations went on, new friends were being made and a camaraderie building between total strangers, united in their passion for wealth and prosperity. That was all America meant to them.
While Brian’s disaster had placed a damper on his spirits he was determined not to let it ruin his plans, although, those plans had changed in a way that he could never have imagined. The address of the only contact he had in America was laying in a ditch in the suitcase somewhere in the midlands. What would he do now? His mother had been right when she had said she had a bad feeling about this whole trip. Still, no turning back now.
The train trundled along making all the sounds that Brian loved. He had been on a train once before and had become fascinated with them. Given the choice he would have preferred to have been up there with the engineer talking about steam engines and checking gauges, asking questions and watching the scenery as the train sped them on their way. The engineer would occasionally blow the whistle for excited children waving from bridges and the passing countryside, he remembered how thrilling that was for a child, that a man of such importance and extraordinary responsibility would take the time to acknowledge them. It would make a child happy for the entire day.
He stared out at the sea and had to admit, it was indeed a fascinating vision. He fully understood the exhilaration of his fellow passengers but being of a shy nature he found it hard to share in their display of excitement. In a couple of days they’d be crossing the Atlantic in a luxury far removed from those poor souls that had survived the famine ships, arriving in America weak, hungry and with absolutely no knowledge of their new country and not knowing that the reception they’d receive would be anything but welcome. But despite the mistrust, discrimination, bigotry and fear of Irish Catholics and the hovels and tenements that they were forced to settle in, many had prospered beyond their wildest dreams. Times had changed indeed, but he felt a kind of connection to those who had gone before him. In the future, whilst recalling his voyage to America and having prospered immensely he could boast about having arrived with just the clothes on his back and a holy medal that his mother had given him, but unlike those before him, at least he could speak English.
The train trundled along making all the sounds that Brian loved. He had been on a train once before and had become fascinated with them. Given the choice he would have preferred to have been up there with the engineer talking about steam engines and checking gauges, asking questions and watching the scenery as the train sped them on their way. The engineer would occasionally blow the whistle for excited children waving from bridges and the passing countryside, he remembered how thrilling that was for a child, that a man of such importance and extraordinary responsibility would take the time to acknowledge them. It would make a child happy for the entire day.
He stared out at the sea and had to admit, it was indeed a fascinating vision. He fully understood the exhilaration of his fellow passengers but being of a shy nature he found it hard to share in their display of excitement. In a couple of days they’d be crossing the Atlantic in a luxury far removed from those poor souls that had survived the famine ships, arriving in America weak, hungry and with absolutely no knowledge of their new country and not knowing that the reception they’d receive would be anything but welcome. But despite the mistrust, discrimination, bigotry and fear of Irish Catholics and the hovels and tenements that they were forced to settle in, many had prospered beyond their wildest dreams. Times had changed indeed, but he felt a kind of connection to those who had gone before him. In the future, whilst recalling his voyage to America and having prospered immensely he could boast about having arrived with just the clothes on his back and a holy medal that his mother had given him, but unlike those before him, at least he could speak English.
He thought of the heartbreak that forced-emigration must have caused, particularly about leaving elderly parents or a sweetheart behind, as was his own case. The platforms of every train station in Ireland had soaked up many a tear. And despite his reassurance to his mother, he knew that not many people ever came back from America. He looked around the carriage and wondered how many of them would remember to send money back home. Had they lived in his parish, they would have been on the receiving end of a weekly reminder from Father McGrath as he obsessively repeated the emigrant’s unconditional obligation, “Send money home,” was his relentless command. And while the priest was concerned, he was indeed proud of the fact that many of those who had emigrated had not forgotten the responsibility that they had to the family back home.
“Send letters and photos,” the priest would say, “but remember to include money, money from America is always welcome and badly needed.” Father McGrath was a good man, he would remind his parishioners that during the 1800’s when millions of dollars poured back into Ireland, the greater majority of it came from young women who toiled in dangerous mills, factories, canneries and the likes. Living in overcrowded hovels, they were vulnerable to exploitation, criminal activity and a form of abuse unheard of in their villages back home. The luckier ones got jobs as nannies and lived in luxury quarters in the midtown mansions of the affluent, eating the best of food and being supplied with clean uniforms and never having to worry about being robbed on a Friday night. The young men, on the other hand, tended to drink, gamble, and travel and behave irresponsibly; they never seemed to have enough money to send home.
“Send letters and photos,” the priest would say, “but remember to include money, money from America is always welcome and badly needed.” Father McGrath was a good man, he would remind his parishioners that during the 1800’s when millions of dollars poured back into Ireland, the greater majority of it came from young women who toiled in dangerous mills, factories, canneries and the likes. Living in overcrowded hovels, they were vulnerable to exploitation, criminal activity and a form of abuse unheard of in their villages back home. The luckier ones got jobs as nannies and lived in luxury quarters in the midtown mansions of the affluent, eating the best of food and being supplied with clean uniforms and never having to worry about being robbed on a Friday night. The young men, on the other hand, tended to drink, gamble, and travel and behave irresponsibly; they never seemed to have enough money to send home.
Brian knew that it could quite possibly be a week or two before he would pick up work, he would have to feed himself, find a safe place to live, buy new clothes and try and make some contacts. A small consolation was the fact that he had arranged to work his passage to America shoveling coal in the ship’s boiler rooms. It not only saved on the fare but he would get paid for it too and at least he wouldn’t have to endure the embarrassment of having to mingle with the other passengers in the same clothes for the entire crossing.
Travelling alone was certainly not as enjoyable as it was for those who had someone to share the experience with and he wished that his girlfriend Eileen had come with him, but in a way he kind of preferred it this way, for now he only had himself to look out for.
“The golden mountain” one of the passengers had said, Brian repeated it in his head. “I like that,” he thought.
Now 22 years old, Brian had grown up reading stories of the Wild West, wagon trains, cattle drives, outlaws, Indians, gun fights, prospecting for gold, surviving in the wilds, horses, guns, working on the railroads and adventure. How exciting it must have been, he could fully understand Father McGrath’s description of the wayward irresponsible youths wanting that kind of life. The desert fascinated him, “What must that be like?” he thought, “hot all the time, I could take that”. But Eileen would be coming to join him, she would certainly have thoughts of settling down in their own house in a safe, friendly community with him having a steady job. “Security in life,” He thought, “it’s not too much to ask for the one you love”. Maybe he could convince her to move out west but she had never shared his passion for all those things.
Going out west was not as drastic a move as it would have been fifty odd years earlier when wagon trains were the only way to go out west. Brian regretted that the steam trains that he loved so much was directly responsible for the demise of the wagon trains that he had fantasized about and had been glorified in all the stories he had read growing up. In his energized mind he could only see adventure in wagon train travel, but to the settlers of today the trains were a delight, the modern day traveler no longer had to purchase wagons, teams of horses or oxen that they had no idea how to drive or control, they no longer had to concern themselves with overpriced supplies, dust storms, prairie fires, floods, freezing conditions, food shortages, delays, breakdowns, sickness, accidents, wild animals, snakes, quarrels over money and worst of all, having bury loved ones out on the prairies where their graves would never be found again. In reality, wagon trains were not the big adventure that the books had described.
But the trains had their drawbacks too, many of the millions of buffalo that had roamed freely on the prairies and were a vital source of food for the native Americans, had fallen victims to the iron horse as it plowed it’s way relentlessly through herds of them. The buffalo were considered a nuisance, a hindrance to rail travel, and to the rail bosses who openly encouraged bored passengers to shoot indiscriminately into the buffalo herds, leaving hundreds of thousands of carcass to rot on the plains of America.
Travelling alone was certainly not as enjoyable as it was for those who had someone to share the experience with and he wished that his girlfriend Eileen had come with him, but in a way he kind of preferred it this way, for now he only had himself to look out for.
“The golden mountain” one of the passengers had said, Brian repeated it in his head. “I like that,” he thought.
Now 22 years old, Brian had grown up reading stories of the Wild West, wagon trains, cattle drives, outlaws, Indians, gun fights, prospecting for gold, surviving in the wilds, horses, guns, working on the railroads and adventure. How exciting it must have been, he could fully understand Father McGrath’s description of the wayward irresponsible youths wanting that kind of life. The desert fascinated him, “What must that be like?” he thought, “hot all the time, I could take that”. But Eileen would be coming to join him, she would certainly have thoughts of settling down in their own house in a safe, friendly community with him having a steady job. “Security in life,” He thought, “it’s not too much to ask for the one you love”. Maybe he could convince her to move out west but she had never shared his passion for all those things.
Going out west was not as drastic a move as it would have been fifty odd years earlier when wagon trains were the only way to go out west. Brian regretted that the steam trains that he loved so much was directly responsible for the demise of the wagon trains that he had fantasized about and had been glorified in all the stories he had read growing up. In his energized mind he could only see adventure in wagon train travel, but to the settlers of today the trains were a delight, the modern day traveler no longer had to purchase wagons, teams of horses or oxen that they had no idea how to drive or control, they no longer had to concern themselves with overpriced supplies, dust storms, prairie fires, floods, freezing conditions, food shortages, delays, breakdowns, sickness, accidents, wild animals, snakes, quarrels over money and worst of all, having bury loved ones out on the prairies where their graves would never be found again. In reality, wagon trains were not the big adventure that the books had described.
But the trains had their drawbacks too, many of the millions of buffalo that had roamed freely on the prairies and were a vital source of food for the native Americans, had fallen victims to the iron horse as it plowed it’s way relentlessly through herds of them. The buffalo were considered a nuisance, a hindrance to rail travel, and to the rail bosses who openly encouraged bored passengers to shoot indiscriminately into the buffalo herds, leaving hundreds of thousands of carcass to rot on the plains of America.
Brian’s daydream was interrupted by the engineer sounding the train whistle, announcing their arrival at yet another station…. All eyes were on the black haired beauty as she boarded the carriage carrying two suitcases. The immaculately dressed young lady by her stunning beauty had unwittingly created a distraction which Brian surmised would be a regular occurrence for one so attractive. The previously boisterous young men were mesmerized into silence, nudging one another excitedly and nodding towards the beauty in what could only be described as juvenile fascination. If she was aware of the silent commotion that she was causing she made no attempt to acknowledge it. And without making eye contact with man, woman or child she went directly to the overhead shelf to store her cases. Several young men rushed forward to help her which she graciously accepted. She then took out a book and settled in to read it. Brian found himself trying to avert his stare and observed that others weren’t as discreet with some of them actually gaping with open mouths at the stunning beauty. He would have been so embarrassed had she caught him gawking at her like all the other depraved idiots and was sorry he hadn’t brought a book to read, or even pretend to read, it would have made him look so uninterested had the beauty happened to glance at him. But he had to admit, he was just as eager to stare at her as all the other young men. He was glad he was at a window seat and could look out at the passing countryside.
Things soon settled down but her presence had had an effect on the entire carriage, even the young women had become subdued. This young beauty had singlehandedly and without a word, intimidated the entire carriage; in fact the train itself seemed to have become quieter.
Brian glanced around the carriage trying desperately not to look at her, but he found himself trying to catch her reflection in the window. “What’s that book she’s reading? It says something about America. Yes.! She’s going to America, and alone. Look at her, she’s so relaxed, classy, refined, elegant, does she know they’re all staring at her? Of course she does, that’s why she brought that book.” He corrected his thoughts. “Why am I even thinking of her? What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be like all these other idiots, I just said goodbye to my beautiful Eileen not more than four hours ago, I shouldn’t even be trying to look at this one, let alone day dreaming about her…. Still, no harm in looking. Besides I’m not the only one, and anyway she doesn’t seem to mind. Is it possible that she doesn’t know just how beautiful she is? There are women like that you know. I find it hard to believe she has no idea that her presence is causing chaos.” He tried to think of something else. He thought of his luggage falling off the bus. He thought of Eileen and the tearful goodbye earlier in the day and how they had clutched on to each other, her slender body pressed against his. She had opened her coat so that he could embrace her more intimately, as though to remind him of what he would be missing. He had reassured her that they’d soon be together for life. He tried to picture her face. He thought about having to find work immediately upon arrival, he wouldn’t have been the first to have to look for work upon arrival. His thoughts were all over the place. Millions had emigrated from Ireland, sure half of America must be Irish. He thought about his granddad’s old fiddle. “That fiddle has been in my family for generations.” He cursed again, his granddad had taught him how to play on that very fiddle. “I’ll get another one in America. How much more different can life be? I’ll get a job, find new friends, make tons of money and send for Eileen, and so what if I don’t have a change of clothes for the whole trip? I wish Eileen was here.”
Things soon settled down but her presence had had an effect on the entire carriage, even the young women had become subdued. This young beauty had singlehandedly and without a word, intimidated the entire carriage; in fact the train itself seemed to have become quieter.
Brian glanced around the carriage trying desperately not to look at her, but he found himself trying to catch her reflection in the window. “What’s that book she’s reading? It says something about America. Yes.! She’s going to America, and alone. Look at her, she’s so relaxed, classy, refined, elegant, does she know they’re all staring at her? Of course she does, that’s why she brought that book.” He corrected his thoughts. “Why am I even thinking of her? What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be like all these other idiots, I just said goodbye to my beautiful Eileen not more than four hours ago, I shouldn’t even be trying to look at this one, let alone day dreaming about her…. Still, no harm in looking. Besides I’m not the only one, and anyway she doesn’t seem to mind. Is it possible that she doesn’t know just how beautiful she is? There are women like that you know. I find it hard to believe she has no idea that her presence is causing chaos.” He tried to think of something else. He thought of his luggage falling off the bus. He thought of Eileen and the tearful goodbye earlier in the day and how they had clutched on to each other, her slender body pressed against his. She had opened her coat so that he could embrace her more intimately, as though to remind him of what he would be missing. He had reassured her that they’d soon be together for life. He tried to picture her face. He thought about having to find work immediately upon arrival, he wouldn’t have been the first to have to look for work upon arrival. His thoughts were all over the place. Millions had emigrated from Ireland, sure half of America must be Irish. He thought about his granddad’s old fiddle. “That fiddle has been in my family for generations.” He cursed again, his granddad had taught him how to play on that very fiddle. “I’ll get another one in America. How much more different can life be? I’ll get a job, find new friends, make tons of money and send for Eileen, and so what if I don’t have a change of clothes for the whole trip? I wish Eileen was here.”
Six hours later the train was pulling into Queenstown. The beauty who had mesmerized so many and had been very gracious when several young men had gotten up the courage to try and get a conversation going with her. She had been courteous in keeping the conversations short, using her book as an excuse not to engage in meaningless chit-chat that would certainly have given these love-struck young men the wrong impression. She could just as easily have snubbed them, but this was a lady, and from the snippets of conversations that were gleaned from her it was established that she was in fact travelling to America. And yes, she did have someone there waiting for her, which came as no surprise to anyone.
As before, when she had boarded the train, there was a scurry of young men trying to help her with her luggage and Brian was no exception. “Let me carry those for you, I lost my luggage so I won’t feel out of place walking around empty handed,” he said.
The girl’s reaction took him by surprise, she stopped what she was doing and stared intently at him which made him blush instantly. “What? You’re going to America without luggage? How on earth did you manage to lose your luggage? You mean you have nothing at all? You lost everything? What will you do?”
“Ah, I’ll manage alright, millions before me went with just the clothes on their backs, how do you know I’m going to America anyway?” he asked.
“I saw you filling out the forms for emigration, you wouldn’t be filling out those if you were just going to Ballydehob, and besides, you have that look about you.” She said with a smile that both insulted and charmed him at the same time.
“What look would that be? Don’t answer that, I have a feeling I know what you mean.” She smiled that charming smile again.
“How on earth did you manage to lose your possessions?” she asked again.
“That ejit of a bus driver mustn’t have tied them down properly on top of the bus, I think he deliberately hit every bump and pothole in Mullingar, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had his relatives out there picking up stuff that fell off the top of the bus, he probably does it all the time, all I know is, my suitcase wasn’t on the bus when we got to the train station in Port Laois.” The beauty laughed again.
“It’s not funny girl.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at your predicament, it’s just funny the way you described the poor bus driver, but it may not have been his fault, if you’re not observant, people getting off the bus can sometimes take other people’s possessions. You have to have your wits about you these days and especially going to America, so what are you going to do without a change of clothes you can’t go to America with just the clothes on your back?” Brian felt as though he was being chastised and got defensive.
“I wouldn’t be the first,” he barked.
“What?” She stared at him again. He got embarrassed again, this beauty was paying far too much attention to someone that she shouldn’t even be giving a second glance to.
“Clothes can be replaced but I lost more important things.”
“Were there any documents or letters in there that could lead to their recovery?”
“Only the address in America of someone that was going to put me up for a while and get me a job, but without that address I’m on my own.”
“What will you do? I mean, you have money at least?”
“I have a few pounds and I have a job on the ship, I’m working the entire trip across the Atlantic.”
“So at least you’ll have a uniform of some sort?”
“They don’t give you a uniform for shoveling coal into boilers.”
“Oh, Oh,” she said trying to think of something that wouldn’t make her look judgmental. “At least you’ll be fit as a fiddle when you get there.” She said. Brian went silent thinking about his grandfather’s fiddle on the side of the road.
“What? Did I say the wrong thing? Are you embarrassed about shoveling coal?”
“No, not at all, I was just thinking about my stuff on the side of the road.”
“I’m sorry for your bad luck but it’s not the end of the world, I’m Fiona Gorman,” she said, putting out her hand.
“Brian Whelan.” They shook hands.
“That’s a good handshake you’ve got there Fiona Gorman, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“My father instilled that into me to never give a limp handshake, or a wet fish as he called it, people judge you on that Brian Whelan.” She said, almost in a scolding kind of way. He was captivated at the mention of his name from such a beauty, he thought it very personal. “This one is certainly a charmer,” he thought. He tried to stay composed.
“He’s right, your dads a good man, what does he think about you traveling to America alone, you are traveling alone aren’t you?”
“They weren’t too happy about the whole idea, I tried to convince them that people would soon be starting to come back to Ireland on holidays, my fiancée sent me the fare, he’ll be waiting for me in New York.”
“I could have done with you at breakfast this morning, I tried to convince my parents that we’d be coming back for holidays, they still think it’s like the old days when you left for America and never came back.”
“Yes, times are changing. So, Brian Whelan, I presume you do have money for clothes, we can have a look and see what the street merchants have, I’ll help you to pick something out if you like.”
“Ah, I’ll figure something out meself, you have more important things to do, I suppose you’re glad to have someone to meet you in New York.” He said, trying to change the subject. She looked at him trying to figure out why he changed the subject.
“Oh, don’t tell me, you lost your money too, don’t get me wrong but I can loan you some money and you can pay me back in New York.” Brian was dumbfounded at her suggestion and stared at her. “Oh, you’re offended, I’m sorry, I just hate to see people in predicaments, I’m always sticking my nose in, but if I can help in any way.”
“What? No, no, I’m not offended, that’s very kind of you to offer, I have a few shillins but I’m not giving it to them street hawkers for secondhand clothes.” Fiona laughed. “What’s wrong with secondhand clothes as long as they’re washed and clean? I was raised in them, come on Brian Whelan we’ll take a look.” Brian was shocked at the thoughts of her in secondhand clothes and even more so by the fact that she had no hesitation in declaring it. She was not only a remarkable beauty but was indeed a remarkable person. “What a lucky man her fiancée is”, he thought again. Fiona mistook his silence as annoyance at her suggestion. “I’m sorry, I’m sticking my nose in again, I just thought you’d appreciate some help in picking out something, I have good taste you know,” she said and smiled again.
“Yes, I can see that but I’m sure you have better things to do, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your suggestion and all.”
“Then it’s settled come on, I have a skill in getting a few shillings off, it’s called a smile, works every time.”
“I believe you,” he said. They both laughed and headed over towards the street merchant stalls.
“So Brian, where are you staying tonight?” she said.
“On the ship, I’m supposed to report in as soon as I get here, where are you staying?”
“Up there in that hotel,” she said pointing to the Grand Hotel.
“Okay, I’ll carry your cases up for you.”
“Well, if you just carry one I’d be delighted, I don’t want people to get the impression that I’m too important to carry my own bags.” Brian laughed. “You don’t strike me as one who cares about what people think.”
“Everyone cares what people think.”
“I suppose so, anyway, I’d prefer to carry both cases that way we both won’t be walking lob-sided.” She smiled again. “That wouldn’t be very dignified.”
He picked up both cases. “What the hell is wrong with me?” He thought, “I just left my beautiful Eileen a few hours ago and I’m all over this one, the sooner I get rid of her the better, this is not good.”
They chatted as they walked towards the merchants, Brian was amazed at how easy it was to talk to her and remembered back on his first encounter with Eileen and how tongue-tied he had been. He enjoyed talking to her, she was bubbly, interesting and above all didn’t seem to be self possessed. He wondered if she was aware of the stares from workers and even men with their wives and sweethearts. “Does it bother you, all that staring? You know, men gawking at you all the time?”
“Ah, they haven’t much to gawk at, there’s better looking women than me, look there’s a little girl playing a tin whistle, I’ll give her a penny,” she said totally ignoring his remark. He smiled to himself, “maybe you’re just one of those beauties who simply don’t know the effect you have on people Fiona Gorman, there should be more people like you. You’ll certainly go far in America”. There was a tin cup on the ground for the few pennies that people would throw to the little girl. Fiona got excited. “I know that tune, it’s called the Pigeon on the gate.” Brian looked at her in amazement. “What?” she said.
“I know that tune too I’m a fiddle player,” he said. Fiona stared at him. “Well, what are the chances of that Brian Whelan? I’m a fiddle player too, are you any good?”
“Ah sure I can knock out a few auld tunes, how about you?”
“Ah sure I can knock out a few auld tunes too,” she said. They both laughed.
“I’m giving her a few pennies I think she’s great,” Fiona said as she dropped a shilling in the tin cup. The girl’s father had been standing by with three other small children and shouted. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, she’s great.” Fiona said smiling at him.
Brian’s thoughts were running wild again. “My God, she’s not only funny and gorgeous, but thoughtful and compassionate, not the least bit conceited, I hope that guy in New York appreciates this young woman.” They continued towards the street merchants. “Don’t you dare drop that case Brian Whelan my fiddle is in there, daddy made it for me, he painted it green, a green fiddle can you imagine?”
Brian thought about his granddad’s old fiddle on the road somewhere up the country, she sensed his distress. “Don’t tell me you lost your fiddle off the top of the bus?”
“You’re a mind reader, it was my most valued possession, It belonged to my grandfather.”
“Oh I’m so sorry, I’d be devastated if I lost my fiddle, you can borrow mine on the ship if you like.”
“Thanks for the offer Fiona but I doubt if I’ll be allowed up on the passenger decks, It’ll be all work, work, work the whole trip, they warned me about that, but at least I have free passage and the best of food.”
“You’ll be fit for anything when you get to America Brian Whelan, but I’ve heard of fiddlers who were too tired to even play at the weekends, don’t overdo the hard work.”
“I’m well used to it.”
“What will you work at in America?”
“Don’t know, I was a roof thatcher up until last week, I’ll have to make some contacts, I only knew one person and his address is on the side of the road with my luggage, I’d better be organized by the time Eileen comes to join me. What about you?”
“I’m going to work for my fiancée James, he’s a contractor on the subways, do you know what the subways are Brian?”
“Of course, I’m not as stupid as I look Fiona Gorman.” Fiona laughed.
“Nobody could be that stupid, right?” she said.
“I walked myself into that didn’t I?” They both laughed again.
“Well you just made your first contact, I’ll introduce you to James, he’ll give you a job.”
“What? You can’t make a decision like that.”
“James will do it if I ask him, consider it done.”
“You’re saying he’ll hire me on your orders?”
“Yes, and it’s not orders no one could order him around, what size waste are you? These should fit you, there’s a nice matching shirt, so, what do you think, do you want a job on the subways or not? There’s not much call for thatching skyscrapers.”
“Why would you do that? I mean, don’t get me wrong, that would be great but wouldn’t James be jealous if you showed up with some guy that you just met and you were asking him to get this ejit a job? I mean, I wouldn’t be too impressed if Eileen showed up with some fella that she met on the way over and expected me to get him a job, in fact I’d be jealous.”
“Ah James is not like that, you’ll love him, besides, you trust Eileen don’t you?”
“I suppose.”
“You suppose?”
“Well, do you trust James, over there in New York where there’s no shortage of women?”
“I’ll put it this way Brian Whelan, you kissed Eileen goodbye and you won’t see her for months, are you saying that you could be unfaithful to her?”
“No, not at all but there are fellas who would do so the very first chance they got.”
“There you go, you’re a gentleman, not all men are cads.”
“You’re very trusting, but I suppose you’re right.”
“You have to stop supposing Whelan, relationships and marriages are all about trust, if you don’t have trust you have nothing, and to answer your question, yes, I do trust James. Look, there’s a nice coat that should fit you.”
“He wants £1 for it.”
“Okay, I’ll buy it for you and I’m not being bossy, it’s a nice warm coat New York will still be cold this time of year.”
“You are being bossy, but I kind of like it, I’ll buy the coat meself.”
“Good, so it’s settled then, you’ll be working on the subways, it’s the way things are done in America Brian, it’s all about contacts.”
They walked up towards the hotel chatting away like old friends. “Thanks again for your help, I’m not used to people fussing over me and I would never have thought of buying clothes that matched.”
“I know, you’d be like my dad, pink shirt a yellow waistcoat and brown pants,”
“What’s wrong with….never mind….. It was nice of you to give that little girl a shilling, she would have been happy with a penny.” He said. She just smiled and changed the subject. “I’m glad you let me help you pick out the clothes, I cringe at the thoughts of you coming down the gangplank in New York looking like a leprechaun.” They both laughed. Brian was intrigued at the thoughts of her waiting to scrutinize his attire in New York. He almost said, “Ah you’ll have forgotten me by the time we get to New York,” but he thought it would sound like he was fishing for compliments. Still the thoughts of her waiting for him to come up from the belly of the ship intrigued him. She’ll have me forgotten by tomorrow, he thought.
“I’m sure you’re anxious to get to your hotel and have a nice meal and relax.” “Sounds like you want to get rid of me but I’m buying you a meal to thank you for carrying my bags.”
“Ah you’re all right, you don’t have to buy me a meal, I’m supposed to report for duty on the ship as soon as I arrive, I hope they don’t put me to work straight away.”
“Then you’ll need all your strength, I’m buying you dinner, the ship can wait.”
“You’ll have no money left by the time you get to New York.”
“I can always play a few tunes on the fiddle for my supper, I hope James will be there to meet me, I haven’t seen him in almost a year, if he forgets then I really will be playing the fiddle for my supper.”
The small talk continued right up to the hotel. He studied her as she checked in, looking like royalty in her white dress, brocade blouse and matching hat. Being with her gave him a confidence that he lacked. “I can’t believe she ever wore second hand clothes, but if she did, she’s now a refined young lady with taste, charm and elegance.”
Ten minutes later Brian was setting her bags down on the floor of her room. She ran to the window. “Look at the size of that ship, they have dining rooms and all kinds of modern conveniences, it’s a far cry from what those poor people went over on during the famine.” She gazed at the ship for a minute without talking. “What hardships they had to endure, and many of them without a word of English, they had to bring their own food you know, the ship’s crew were a rough lot, they didn’t have much compassion for the poor half starved souls escaping poverty, and many of those old ships didn’t make it.-- Come on let’s go to the dining room.”
Fiona’s enthusiasm was contagious. He liked the fact that she was relaxed and positive about everything. They headed towards the dining room, he thought, “I’d be more comfortable eating fish and chips out of a paper bag on the waterfront.” He smiled as he observed many of the patrons interrupt their meals and conversations to stare at this beauty as she showed no signs of acknowledging their attention. They chatted again over the meal. “So, what was so intriguing about that book you were reading on the train, you barely took your nose out of it?” Brian said.
“Oh, what an incredible book, it was written by a woman who lost her husband on the wagon trail, he had tried to cross a swollen river with his loaded wagon and got swept away, she watched in horror with her children from the river bank as their wagon with horses and all their supplies and worldly possessions were washed away. Her husband, not wanting to risk his whole family had intended to come back for them with one of the horses and ferry them all across a couple at a time.”
“My God, how did they survive?”
“She had to rely on the generosity of others on the wagon train to get them to California, but she survived, and having heard many stories such as hers she started to write about them. I’m almost finished the book, I’ll give it to you if you like.”
“I’d love to read it, had I been born fifty years earlier I would definitely have been on one of those wagon trains.”
“Me too, they didn’t have it easy, they were tough people back then, I don’t know if I’d have been a burden or an asset. She said.
“You’d have been an asset, I can tell, you’re forceful.”
“Oh God, you think I’m forceful?”
“Not forceful in a negative way I suppose dynamic would have been a better choice of words.” Fiona laughed.
“My God I don’t think I was ever described as dynamic.” He changed the subject. “I can’t quite picture you playing a fiddle, you look more like a violinist, classically trained.” He said.
“No, I’m just a common fiddler, although the instrument is the same, it’s just that it’s called a violin when you’re classically trained, are you going to tell your family that you lost the fiddle? Maybe they don’t need to know; sometimes it’s best to keep something like that to yourself.”
“I was going to tell them but I suppose you’re right, what good would it do telling them? I’ll just get another fiddle.”
“Good, we might get to play together sometime.”
“Were you aware of the commotion you caused on the train?” She laughed again. “There wasn’t a commotion Whelan, just boys doing what boys do.”
“So you were aware of them? I mean, what I’m trying to get at is, how you could not have been aware of the stares and nudges and the fascination you caused.”
“You want me to acknowledge that I caused a commotion?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you waltzed on there and turned everybody’s world upside down and never batted an eyelid.” Fiona laughed.
“And did I turn your world upside down Brian Whelan?”
“No I was intrigued with the seagulls, I never saw a seagull before can you believe that?” They both laughed out loud. The dining room patrons would have been forgiven for thinking that this couple was in love.
They chatted away and lingered on long after the meal until the dining room staff started giving subtle hints for them to leave. Brian was further impressed when Fiona apologized to them, “Sorry, you should have booted us out hours ago,” She said. He walked her to her room and put his hand out. “Goodnight Fiona Gorman, thanks for the meal and for picking out my clothes, I hope I’ll see you in New York, are you sure James won’t mind? I don’t want him to be mad at you.”
“Not at all, you’ll love him.”
“Okay, have a good night’s sleep then.”
“I will, the ship doesn’t leave until the afternoon, so I’ll get a great night’s sleep, I’ll be thinking of you shoveling coal while I’m drifting off to sleep,” she said.
“Thanks a lot.”
***
Brian’s mind was in turmoil as he walked down to the ship. The last few hours had affected him to the point where he was both elated and confused at the same time. He had just shared his dreams, passions and ambitions with someone who had the exact same desires and goals. Their laughter and conversation had been relaxed, sincere and completely effortless. But reality was starting to set in, “Ah, I’m driving myself crazy again,” He thought, “I’ll put her out of my mind. If she gets me a job in New York, fine but I doubt if she’ll be even remember me.”
As before, when she had boarded the train, there was a scurry of young men trying to help her with her luggage and Brian was no exception. “Let me carry those for you, I lost my luggage so I won’t feel out of place walking around empty handed,” he said.
The girl’s reaction took him by surprise, she stopped what she was doing and stared intently at him which made him blush instantly. “What? You’re going to America without luggage? How on earth did you manage to lose your luggage? You mean you have nothing at all? You lost everything? What will you do?”
“Ah, I’ll manage alright, millions before me went with just the clothes on their backs, how do you know I’m going to America anyway?” he asked.
“I saw you filling out the forms for emigration, you wouldn’t be filling out those if you were just going to Ballydehob, and besides, you have that look about you.” She said with a smile that both insulted and charmed him at the same time.
“What look would that be? Don’t answer that, I have a feeling I know what you mean.” She smiled that charming smile again.
“How on earth did you manage to lose your possessions?” she asked again.
“That ejit of a bus driver mustn’t have tied them down properly on top of the bus, I think he deliberately hit every bump and pothole in Mullingar, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had his relatives out there picking up stuff that fell off the top of the bus, he probably does it all the time, all I know is, my suitcase wasn’t on the bus when we got to the train station in Port Laois.” The beauty laughed again.
“It’s not funny girl.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at your predicament, it’s just funny the way you described the poor bus driver, but it may not have been his fault, if you’re not observant, people getting off the bus can sometimes take other people’s possessions. You have to have your wits about you these days and especially going to America, so what are you going to do without a change of clothes you can’t go to America with just the clothes on your back?” Brian felt as though he was being chastised and got defensive.
“I wouldn’t be the first,” he barked.
“What?” She stared at him again. He got embarrassed again, this beauty was paying far too much attention to someone that she shouldn’t even be giving a second glance to.
“Clothes can be replaced but I lost more important things.”
“Were there any documents or letters in there that could lead to their recovery?”
“Only the address in America of someone that was going to put me up for a while and get me a job, but without that address I’m on my own.”
“What will you do? I mean, you have money at least?”
“I have a few pounds and I have a job on the ship, I’m working the entire trip across the Atlantic.”
“So at least you’ll have a uniform of some sort?”
“They don’t give you a uniform for shoveling coal into boilers.”
“Oh, Oh,” she said trying to think of something that wouldn’t make her look judgmental. “At least you’ll be fit as a fiddle when you get there.” She said. Brian went silent thinking about his grandfather’s fiddle on the side of the road.
“What? Did I say the wrong thing? Are you embarrassed about shoveling coal?”
“No, not at all, I was just thinking about my stuff on the side of the road.”
“I’m sorry for your bad luck but it’s not the end of the world, I’m Fiona Gorman,” she said, putting out her hand.
“Brian Whelan.” They shook hands.
“That’s a good handshake you’ve got there Fiona Gorman, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“My father instilled that into me to never give a limp handshake, or a wet fish as he called it, people judge you on that Brian Whelan.” She said, almost in a scolding kind of way. He was captivated at the mention of his name from such a beauty, he thought it very personal. “This one is certainly a charmer,” he thought. He tried to stay composed.
“He’s right, your dads a good man, what does he think about you traveling to America alone, you are traveling alone aren’t you?”
“They weren’t too happy about the whole idea, I tried to convince them that people would soon be starting to come back to Ireland on holidays, my fiancée sent me the fare, he’ll be waiting for me in New York.”
“I could have done with you at breakfast this morning, I tried to convince my parents that we’d be coming back for holidays, they still think it’s like the old days when you left for America and never came back.”
“Yes, times are changing. So, Brian Whelan, I presume you do have money for clothes, we can have a look and see what the street merchants have, I’ll help you to pick something out if you like.”
“Ah, I’ll figure something out meself, you have more important things to do, I suppose you’re glad to have someone to meet you in New York.” He said, trying to change the subject. She looked at him trying to figure out why he changed the subject.
“Oh, don’t tell me, you lost your money too, don’t get me wrong but I can loan you some money and you can pay me back in New York.” Brian was dumbfounded at her suggestion and stared at her. “Oh, you’re offended, I’m sorry, I just hate to see people in predicaments, I’m always sticking my nose in, but if I can help in any way.”
“What? No, no, I’m not offended, that’s very kind of you to offer, I have a few shillins but I’m not giving it to them street hawkers for secondhand clothes.” Fiona laughed. “What’s wrong with secondhand clothes as long as they’re washed and clean? I was raised in them, come on Brian Whelan we’ll take a look.” Brian was shocked at the thoughts of her in secondhand clothes and even more so by the fact that she had no hesitation in declaring it. She was not only a remarkable beauty but was indeed a remarkable person. “What a lucky man her fiancée is”, he thought again. Fiona mistook his silence as annoyance at her suggestion. “I’m sorry, I’m sticking my nose in again, I just thought you’d appreciate some help in picking out something, I have good taste you know,” she said and smiled again.
“Yes, I can see that but I’m sure you have better things to do, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your suggestion and all.”
“Then it’s settled come on, I have a skill in getting a few shillings off, it’s called a smile, works every time.”
“I believe you,” he said. They both laughed and headed over towards the street merchant stalls.
“So Brian, where are you staying tonight?” she said.
“On the ship, I’m supposed to report in as soon as I get here, where are you staying?”
“Up there in that hotel,” she said pointing to the Grand Hotel.
“Okay, I’ll carry your cases up for you.”
“Well, if you just carry one I’d be delighted, I don’t want people to get the impression that I’m too important to carry my own bags.” Brian laughed. “You don’t strike me as one who cares about what people think.”
“Everyone cares what people think.”
“I suppose so, anyway, I’d prefer to carry both cases that way we both won’t be walking lob-sided.” She smiled again. “That wouldn’t be very dignified.”
He picked up both cases. “What the hell is wrong with me?” He thought, “I just left my beautiful Eileen a few hours ago and I’m all over this one, the sooner I get rid of her the better, this is not good.”
They chatted as they walked towards the merchants, Brian was amazed at how easy it was to talk to her and remembered back on his first encounter with Eileen and how tongue-tied he had been. He enjoyed talking to her, she was bubbly, interesting and above all didn’t seem to be self possessed. He wondered if she was aware of the stares from workers and even men with their wives and sweethearts. “Does it bother you, all that staring? You know, men gawking at you all the time?”
“Ah, they haven’t much to gawk at, there’s better looking women than me, look there’s a little girl playing a tin whistle, I’ll give her a penny,” she said totally ignoring his remark. He smiled to himself, “maybe you’re just one of those beauties who simply don’t know the effect you have on people Fiona Gorman, there should be more people like you. You’ll certainly go far in America”. There was a tin cup on the ground for the few pennies that people would throw to the little girl. Fiona got excited. “I know that tune, it’s called the Pigeon on the gate.” Brian looked at her in amazement. “What?” she said.
“I know that tune too I’m a fiddle player,” he said. Fiona stared at him. “Well, what are the chances of that Brian Whelan? I’m a fiddle player too, are you any good?”
“Ah sure I can knock out a few auld tunes, how about you?”
“Ah sure I can knock out a few auld tunes too,” she said. They both laughed.
“I’m giving her a few pennies I think she’s great,” Fiona said as she dropped a shilling in the tin cup. The girl’s father had been standing by with three other small children and shouted. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, she’s great.” Fiona said smiling at him.
Brian’s thoughts were running wild again. “My God, she’s not only funny and gorgeous, but thoughtful and compassionate, not the least bit conceited, I hope that guy in New York appreciates this young woman.” They continued towards the street merchants. “Don’t you dare drop that case Brian Whelan my fiddle is in there, daddy made it for me, he painted it green, a green fiddle can you imagine?”
Brian thought about his granddad’s old fiddle on the road somewhere up the country, she sensed his distress. “Don’t tell me you lost your fiddle off the top of the bus?”
“You’re a mind reader, it was my most valued possession, It belonged to my grandfather.”
“Oh I’m so sorry, I’d be devastated if I lost my fiddle, you can borrow mine on the ship if you like.”
“Thanks for the offer Fiona but I doubt if I’ll be allowed up on the passenger decks, It’ll be all work, work, work the whole trip, they warned me about that, but at least I have free passage and the best of food.”
“You’ll be fit for anything when you get to America Brian Whelan, but I’ve heard of fiddlers who were too tired to even play at the weekends, don’t overdo the hard work.”
“I’m well used to it.”
“What will you work at in America?”
“Don’t know, I was a roof thatcher up until last week, I’ll have to make some contacts, I only knew one person and his address is on the side of the road with my luggage, I’d better be organized by the time Eileen comes to join me. What about you?”
“I’m going to work for my fiancée James, he’s a contractor on the subways, do you know what the subways are Brian?”
“Of course, I’m not as stupid as I look Fiona Gorman.” Fiona laughed.
“Nobody could be that stupid, right?” she said.
“I walked myself into that didn’t I?” They both laughed again.
“Well you just made your first contact, I’ll introduce you to James, he’ll give you a job.”
“What? You can’t make a decision like that.”
“James will do it if I ask him, consider it done.”
“You’re saying he’ll hire me on your orders?”
“Yes, and it’s not orders no one could order him around, what size waste are you? These should fit you, there’s a nice matching shirt, so, what do you think, do you want a job on the subways or not? There’s not much call for thatching skyscrapers.”
“Why would you do that? I mean, don’t get me wrong, that would be great but wouldn’t James be jealous if you showed up with some guy that you just met and you were asking him to get this ejit a job? I mean, I wouldn’t be too impressed if Eileen showed up with some fella that she met on the way over and expected me to get him a job, in fact I’d be jealous.”
“Ah James is not like that, you’ll love him, besides, you trust Eileen don’t you?”
“I suppose.”
“You suppose?”
“Well, do you trust James, over there in New York where there’s no shortage of women?”
“I’ll put it this way Brian Whelan, you kissed Eileen goodbye and you won’t see her for months, are you saying that you could be unfaithful to her?”
“No, not at all but there are fellas who would do so the very first chance they got.”
“There you go, you’re a gentleman, not all men are cads.”
“You’re very trusting, but I suppose you’re right.”
“You have to stop supposing Whelan, relationships and marriages are all about trust, if you don’t have trust you have nothing, and to answer your question, yes, I do trust James. Look, there’s a nice coat that should fit you.”
“He wants £1 for it.”
“Okay, I’ll buy it for you and I’m not being bossy, it’s a nice warm coat New York will still be cold this time of year.”
“You are being bossy, but I kind of like it, I’ll buy the coat meself.”
“Good, so it’s settled then, you’ll be working on the subways, it’s the way things are done in America Brian, it’s all about contacts.”
They walked up towards the hotel chatting away like old friends. “Thanks again for your help, I’m not used to people fussing over me and I would never have thought of buying clothes that matched.”
“I know, you’d be like my dad, pink shirt a yellow waistcoat and brown pants,”
“What’s wrong with….never mind….. It was nice of you to give that little girl a shilling, she would have been happy with a penny.” He said. She just smiled and changed the subject. “I’m glad you let me help you pick out the clothes, I cringe at the thoughts of you coming down the gangplank in New York looking like a leprechaun.” They both laughed. Brian was intrigued at the thoughts of her waiting to scrutinize his attire in New York. He almost said, “Ah you’ll have forgotten me by the time we get to New York,” but he thought it would sound like he was fishing for compliments. Still the thoughts of her waiting for him to come up from the belly of the ship intrigued him. She’ll have me forgotten by tomorrow, he thought.
“I’m sure you’re anxious to get to your hotel and have a nice meal and relax.” “Sounds like you want to get rid of me but I’m buying you a meal to thank you for carrying my bags.”
“Ah you’re all right, you don’t have to buy me a meal, I’m supposed to report for duty on the ship as soon as I arrive, I hope they don’t put me to work straight away.”
“Then you’ll need all your strength, I’m buying you dinner, the ship can wait.”
“You’ll have no money left by the time you get to New York.”
“I can always play a few tunes on the fiddle for my supper, I hope James will be there to meet me, I haven’t seen him in almost a year, if he forgets then I really will be playing the fiddle for my supper.”
The small talk continued right up to the hotel. He studied her as she checked in, looking like royalty in her white dress, brocade blouse and matching hat. Being with her gave him a confidence that he lacked. “I can’t believe she ever wore second hand clothes, but if she did, she’s now a refined young lady with taste, charm and elegance.”
Ten minutes later Brian was setting her bags down on the floor of her room. She ran to the window. “Look at the size of that ship, they have dining rooms and all kinds of modern conveniences, it’s a far cry from what those poor people went over on during the famine.” She gazed at the ship for a minute without talking. “What hardships they had to endure, and many of them without a word of English, they had to bring their own food you know, the ship’s crew were a rough lot, they didn’t have much compassion for the poor half starved souls escaping poverty, and many of those old ships didn’t make it.-- Come on let’s go to the dining room.”
Fiona’s enthusiasm was contagious. He liked the fact that she was relaxed and positive about everything. They headed towards the dining room, he thought, “I’d be more comfortable eating fish and chips out of a paper bag on the waterfront.” He smiled as he observed many of the patrons interrupt their meals and conversations to stare at this beauty as she showed no signs of acknowledging their attention. They chatted again over the meal. “So, what was so intriguing about that book you were reading on the train, you barely took your nose out of it?” Brian said.
“Oh, what an incredible book, it was written by a woman who lost her husband on the wagon trail, he had tried to cross a swollen river with his loaded wagon and got swept away, she watched in horror with her children from the river bank as their wagon with horses and all their supplies and worldly possessions were washed away. Her husband, not wanting to risk his whole family had intended to come back for them with one of the horses and ferry them all across a couple at a time.”
“My God, how did they survive?”
“She had to rely on the generosity of others on the wagon train to get them to California, but she survived, and having heard many stories such as hers she started to write about them. I’m almost finished the book, I’ll give it to you if you like.”
“I’d love to read it, had I been born fifty years earlier I would definitely have been on one of those wagon trains.”
“Me too, they didn’t have it easy, they were tough people back then, I don’t know if I’d have been a burden or an asset. She said.
“You’d have been an asset, I can tell, you’re forceful.”
“Oh God, you think I’m forceful?”
“Not forceful in a negative way I suppose dynamic would have been a better choice of words.” Fiona laughed.
“My God I don’t think I was ever described as dynamic.” He changed the subject. “I can’t quite picture you playing a fiddle, you look more like a violinist, classically trained.” He said.
“No, I’m just a common fiddler, although the instrument is the same, it’s just that it’s called a violin when you’re classically trained, are you going to tell your family that you lost the fiddle? Maybe they don’t need to know; sometimes it’s best to keep something like that to yourself.”
“I was going to tell them but I suppose you’re right, what good would it do telling them? I’ll just get another fiddle.”
“Good, we might get to play together sometime.”
“Were you aware of the commotion you caused on the train?” She laughed again. “There wasn’t a commotion Whelan, just boys doing what boys do.”
“So you were aware of them? I mean, what I’m trying to get at is, how you could not have been aware of the stares and nudges and the fascination you caused.”
“You want me to acknowledge that I caused a commotion?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you waltzed on there and turned everybody’s world upside down and never batted an eyelid.” Fiona laughed.
“And did I turn your world upside down Brian Whelan?”
“No I was intrigued with the seagulls, I never saw a seagull before can you believe that?” They both laughed out loud. The dining room patrons would have been forgiven for thinking that this couple was in love.
They chatted away and lingered on long after the meal until the dining room staff started giving subtle hints for them to leave. Brian was further impressed when Fiona apologized to them, “Sorry, you should have booted us out hours ago,” She said. He walked her to her room and put his hand out. “Goodnight Fiona Gorman, thanks for the meal and for picking out my clothes, I hope I’ll see you in New York, are you sure James won’t mind? I don’t want him to be mad at you.”
“Not at all, you’ll love him.”
“Okay, have a good night’s sleep then.”
“I will, the ship doesn’t leave until the afternoon, so I’ll get a great night’s sleep, I’ll be thinking of you shoveling coal while I’m drifting off to sleep,” she said.
“Thanks a lot.”
***
Brian’s mind was in turmoil as he walked down to the ship. The last few hours had affected him to the point where he was both elated and confused at the same time. He had just shared his dreams, passions and ambitions with someone who had the exact same desires and goals. Their laughter and conversation had been relaxed, sincere and completely effortless. But reality was starting to set in, “Ah, I’m driving myself crazy again,” He thought, “I’ll put her out of my mind. If she gets me a job in New York, fine but I doubt if she’ll be even remember me.”
“George, this is Brian Whelan, he looks like he’s not afraid to work, get him settled in he’ll be working with your crew on the crossing.” Brian shook hands with George. “Let me see your hands,” George said. Brian held out both hands for him to scrutinize. “Good, it looks like you’ve done a day’s work or two, they’ll be tougher when we get to New York, come on I’ll give you a tour of the work area. It’s noisy down there so I’ll explain in more detail when we come back up. If you’re a good worker they may offer you a full time job, the money is good but it’s hot as hell down there.” George laughed as he opened the big metal door. They held on to both railings as they descended the steep stairway leading to the boiler room.
“You see those shovels? They go 24 hours a day, you’ll take your shovel from a worker going off shift, you’ll work it for eight hours and hand it to the man replacing you, have you been on a ship before?”
“No, first time.”
“Well, you’ll eat like a king, sleep like a log and if you’re not up to the work we’ll throw you overboard.” Brian made an attempt at laughter but he was trying not to appear mesmerized with all the noise and heat. But his gaping eyes and open mouth were a dead giveaway to the other workers who happened to glance at him. He walked behind George in an almost hypnotic state trying desperately to absorb the instructions that George shouted above the noise while at the same time trying to appear casual, as thought he did this all the time. Whatever vision he had previously entertained about a boiler room instantly evaporated. This was a bustling city in the belly of a ship. The roof was about thirty feet high, with chains and pulley blocks swinging loads dangerously close to the men who seemed oblivious to their danger and continued feeding coal into two rows of furnaces which in turn roared deafeningly as they heated the massive boilers to create steam. Brian had seen furnaces before on steam trains and was aware of the power a single boiler could produce. But this was insane, each boiler must have had ten furnaces feeding it, and all being fueled from a mountain of coal being shoveled by an army of men being barked at by aggressive foremen. George must have seen the look of awe on Brian’s face. “You’ll get used to it.” He said. Brian nodded back with a forced smile, he wasn’t nervous, he was frightened, the noise, the shouting the confusion, the heat, the danger. “I’ll be glad when this is over,” he thought. This was a complete contrast to the outside of the ship that stood majestically in the dock, music coming from the ballrooms laughter from the passengers already on there from other countries. “What must it be like up there?” He thought as he tried to picture the photos in the glossy brochures. His thoughts were interrupted by George. “This ship will burn 800 tons of coal a day once she gets up to speed, we have 170 men shoveling round the clock, there are 150 furnaces fueling ten boilers, it’s hot, dangerous and noisy, keep your wits about you and you’ll survive.”
A few days later Brian had almost forgotten the black haired beauty several decks above him. He had heard talks of the mighty music sessions being held in steerage class but even if he was allowed up there he would have been too tired to enjoy them.
George approached Brian, shouting to get his attention. “Brian, give me that shovel,” he shouted as he grabbed the shovel from Brian.
“I’m going to cover for you for ten minutes, you hear me? Be back here in ten minutes. Go, there’s a beautiful young woman at gate 16 asking about you, the gate is locked so you’ll have to talk to her through the bars, GO, you have nine minutes left.”
Brian tried to wipe as much sweat from his body as he ran down the walkway almost twisting his ankle on stray lumps of coal, his heart pounding in his chest.
Her smile was even more enchanting than he had remembered. “Look at you,” she said, “there’ll be nothing left of you by the time you get to New York, they said I have ten minutes or you’ll be in trouble, I just wanted to say hello, are you okay?”
Brian didn’t answer, he just stared at her through the bars, mesmerized at the thoughts of her coming down into the belly of the ship to see him. “Cat got your tongue?” she said.
“What? I mean where? How did you, I mean, I didn’t expect…”
“Stop stuttering and stammering ya ejit, how are they treating you? Is the work as hard as you thought?”
“Yeah it’s hard but nothing I can’t handle, they’re a good bunch of lads, what’s it like up there? Did you get to play your fiddle? I hear there are mighty sessions.”
“It’s great, I was looking out for you, I thought they might let you out for a few hours.”
“Not a chance,” he said as he tried to stick his head through the bars. “I’m in jail, what’s it like up there? Is it anything like you expected?”
“It’s incredible, I befriended a steward he’s going to smuggle me up to first class for a few hours, it’s a whole different world up there.” Brian felt a twinge of jealousy but quickly checked himself. I have nothing to be jealous about, he thought.
“It’s noisy down here, are they feeding you well? Where do you sleep? Only a couple more days and you’ll be out, you look like you’re well able for the work?” She said.
“It was a bit overwhelming at first but you don’t have time to think about it, they feed us well and we have no trouble getting to sleep, I can’t believe they let you down here.”
“I charmed my steward friend into letting me, I hope I don’t get you in trouble.”
“No but your charm certainly works, you even have my foreman shoveling coal for me.” The both laughed.
“See! I told you, not many men can resist this smile, it does have its advantages sometimes.”
“Well I’m glad it worked, I’m delighted to see you, thanks for coming down, did you meet any of the lads from the train? I’m sure they have you pestered.”
“Nothing I can’t handle, there’s plenty of girls up there for them, here I brought you something, it’s the book I was reading, I know you’ll love it.” She pushed the book through the bars, their hands touched and some coal rubbed off on her hand. Brian got embarrassed. “Sorry, I just got sweaty coal on your hand.” He said. Fiona just smiled and ignored the coal.
“I couldn’t wait to give you the book, especially as it has all the things about the west that we talked about.”
“I can’t wait to start reading it, thank you, thank you so much, I’ll give it back to you.”
“It’s okay, just give it to one of the other lads.”
There was a brief silence as both of them stared at each other through the bars. “Alright, I’d better get back to work or my foreman will be mad at me, I won’t shake hands, I already got coal on you, I’ll see you in New York then.” He said.
Fiona looked disappointed. “You don’t want me to come down to see you again? I mean, I don’t want to be a nuisance.” Brian just stared at her for a few seconds. “A nuisance? Are you mad? I can’t get you out of my mind, I’m madly in love with you, totally, completely head over heels in love with you, you’ve turned my pathetic world upside down, we’ve talked for hours, we have so much in common, we share the same feelings, emotions and interests, I can’t live my life without you and just when I was coming to terms with not seeing you again here you are, you’ve gone out of your way and broken the rules to come and see me. I love you Fiona Gorman.”
Well, he didn’t actually say those things, I just made that up, but it was what he was wanted to say. Instead he just said, “A nuisance? You’d never be a nuisance Fiona Gorman.”
She reached in and grabbed his bandanna pulling him towards the bars and kissed him. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, just enough to send a shudder down his body. Then she was gone. Brian was still clinging on to the bars in an attempt to steady himself as the blood drained from his head, he felt like he was going to faint. He regained his self-control and started to run back towards his work station, his mind in complete chaos. God almighty, she came down to see me, is she crazy? Is she bored? Who cares? She came down to see me. He grabbed the shovel from George. “Give me that shovel George, I have some serious energy to burn off,” He said. George walked off laughing.
Despite his torturous shift, he couldn’t get to sleep. She’s up there playing her green fiddle and driving everyone crazy, Oh God I wish I could be there, damn it, I wish she hadn’t come down to see me, she’s driving me insane, how can a woman create so much madness in a man? It’s just infatuation right?
***
Brian Whelan never knew how he ended up in the sea. But he did, fighting for his life in the freezing Atlantic Ocean. There were screams of panic coming from the ship, there were lifeboats, the sea was deathly calm. Yet in the midst of all the panic there was music being carried across the still tranquil water. They say a drowning man will clutch at a straw to save his life, and Brian was drowning. They also say that when you’re dying, your whole life flashes before your eyes. But for Brian it was the beauty who had flashed into his life and turned his world upside down. He could see the ship, tilting, taking on millions of gallons of water. What the blazes had happened? Was Fiona on one of the lifeboats? He tried to call out, the debris that he clung to in a vain attempt to save his life was not enough to keep him afloat, he would take that green fiddle to his watery grave. His last thought as he sank below the surface was something that Fiona had said in the hotel dining room the night before the sailing.
“Don’t be silly Brian,” she had said, “the Titanic is the greatest ship ever built, it’s unsinkable.”
“You see those shovels? They go 24 hours a day, you’ll take your shovel from a worker going off shift, you’ll work it for eight hours and hand it to the man replacing you, have you been on a ship before?”
“No, first time.”
“Well, you’ll eat like a king, sleep like a log and if you’re not up to the work we’ll throw you overboard.” Brian made an attempt at laughter but he was trying not to appear mesmerized with all the noise and heat. But his gaping eyes and open mouth were a dead giveaway to the other workers who happened to glance at him. He walked behind George in an almost hypnotic state trying desperately to absorb the instructions that George shouted above the noise while at the same time trying to appear casual, as thought he did this all the time. Whatever vision he had previously entertained about a boiler room instantly evaporated. This was a bustling city in the belly of a ship. The roof was about thirty feet high, with chains and pulley blocks swinging loads dangerously close to the men who seemed oblivious to their danger and continued feeding coal into two rows of furnaces which in turn roared deafeningly as they heated the massive boilers to create steam. Brian had seen furnaces before on steam trains and was aware of the power a single boiler could produce. But this was insane, each boiler must have had ten furnaces feeding it, and all being fueled from a mountain of coal being shoveled by an army of men being barked at by aggressive foremen. George must have seen the look of awe on Brian’s face. “You’ll get used to it.” He said. Brian nodded back with a forced smile, he wasn’t nervous, he was frightened, the noise, the shouting the confusion, the heat, the danger. “I’ll be glad when this is over,” he thought. This was a complete contrast to the outside of the ship that stood majestically in the dock, music coming from the ballrooms laughter from the passengers already on there from other countries. “What must it be like up there?” He thought as he tried to picture the photos in the glossy brochures. His thoughts were interrupted by George. “This ship will burn 800 tons of coal a day once she gets up to speed, we have 170 men shoveling round the clock, there are 150 furnaces fueling ten boilers, it’s hot, dangerous and noisy, keep your wits about you and you’ll survive.”
A few days later Brian had almost forgotten the black haired beauty several decks above him. He had heard talks of the mighty music sessions being held in steerage class but even if he was allowed up there he would have been too tired to enjoy them.
George approached Brian, shouting to get his attention. “Brian, give me that shovel,” he shouted as he grabbed the shovel from Brian.
“I’m going to cover for you for ten minutes, you hear me? Be back here in ten minutes. Go, there’s a beautiful young woman at gate 16 asking about you, the gate is locked so you’ll have to talk to her through the bars, GO, you have nine minutes left.”
Brian tried to wipe as much sweat from his body as he ran down the walkway almost twisting his ankle on stray lumps of coal, his heart pounding in his chest.
Her smile was even more enchanting than he had remembered. “Look at you,” she said, “there’ll be nothing left of you by the time you get to New York, they said I have ten minutes or you’ll be in trouble, I just wanted to say hello, are you okay?”
Brian didn’t answer, he just stared at her through the bars, mesmerized at the thoughts of her coming down into the belly of the ship to see him. “Cat got your tongue?” she said.
“What? I mean where? How did you, I mean, I didn’t expect…”
“Stop stuttering and stammering ya ejit, how are they treating you? Is the work as hard as you thought?”
“Yeah it’s hard but nothing I can’t handle, they’re a good bunch of lads, what’s it like up there? Did you get to play your fiddle? I hear there are mighty sessions.”
“It’s great, I was looking out for you, I thought they might let you out for a few hours.”
“Not a chance,” he said as he tried to stick his head through the bars. “I’m in jail, what’s it like up there? Is it anything like you expected?”
“It’s incredible, I befriended a steward he’s going to smuggle me up to first class for a few hours, it’s a whole different world up there.” Brian felt a twinge of jealousy but quickly checked himself. I have nothing to be jealous about, he thought.
“It’s noisy down here, are they feeding you well? Where do you sleep? Only a couple more days and you’ll be out, you look like you’re well able for the work?” She said.
“It was a bit overwhelming at first but you don’t have time to think about it, they feed us well and we have no trouble getting to sleep, I can’t believe they let you down here.”
“I charmed my steward friend into letting me, I hope I don’t get you in trouble.”
“No but your charm certainly works, you even have my foreman shoveling coal for me.” The both laughed.
“See! I told you, not many men can resist this smile, it does have its advantages sometimes.”
“Well I’m glad it worked, I’m delighted to see you, thanks for coming down, did you meet any of the lads from the train? I’m sure they have you pestered.”
“Nothing I can’t handle, there’s plenty of girls up there for them, here I brought you something, it’s the book I was reading, I know you’ll love it.” She pushed the book through the bars, their hands touched and some coal rubbed off on her hand. Brian got embarrassed. “Sorry, I just got sweaty coal on your hand.” He said. Fiona just smiled and ignored the coal.
“I couldn’t wait to give you the book, especially as it has all the things about the west that we talked about.”
“I can’t wait to start reading it, thank you, thank you so much, I’ll give it back to you.”
“It’s okay, just give it to one of the other lads.”
There was a brief silence as both of them stared at each other through the bars. “Alright, I’d better get back to work or my foreman will be mad at me, I won’t shake hands, I already got coal on you, I’ll see you in New York then.” He said.
Fiona looked disappointed. “You don’t want me to come down to see you again? I mean, I don’t want to be a nuisance.” Brian just stared at her for a few seconds. “A nuisance? Are you mad? I can’t get you out of my mind, I’m madly in love with you, totally, completely head over heels in love with you, you’ve turned my pathetic world upside down, we’ve talked for hours, we have so much in common, we share the same feelings, emotions and interests, I can’t live my life without you and just when I was coming to terms with not seeing you again here you are, you’ve gone out of your way and broken the rules to come and see me. I love you Fiona Gorman.”
Well, he didn’t actually say those things, I just made that up, but it was what he was wanted to say. Instead he just said, “A nuisance? You’d never be a nuisance Fiona Gorman.”
She reached in and grabbed his bandanna pulling him towards the bars and kissed him. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, just enough to send a shudder down his body. Then she was gone. Brian was still clinging on to the bars in an attempt to steady himself as the blood drained from his head, he felt like he was going to faint. He regained his self-control and started to run back towards his work station, his mind in complete chaos. God almighty, she came down to see me, is she crazy? Is she bored? Who cares? She came down to see me. He grabbed the shovel from George. “Give me that shovel George, I have some serious energy to burn off,” He said. George walked off laughing.
Despite his torturous shift, he couldn’t get to sleep. She’s up there playing her green fiddle and driving everyone crazy, Oh God I wish I could be there, damn it, I wish she hadn’t come down to see me, she’s driving me insane, how can a woman create so much madness in a man? It’s just infatuation right?
***
Brian Whelan never knew how he ended up in the sea. But he did, fighting for his life in the freezing Atlantic Ocean. There were screams of panic coming from the ship, there were lifeboats, the sea was deathly calm. Yet in the midst of all the panic there was music being carried across the still tranquil water. They say a drowning man will clutch at a straw to save his life, and Brian was drowning. They also say that when you’re dying, your whole life flashes before your eyes. But for Brian it was the beauty who had flashed into his life and turned his world upside down. He could see the ship, tilting, taking on millions of gallons of water. What the blazes had happened? Was Fiona on one of the lifeboats? He tried to call out, the debris that he clung to in a vain attempt to save his life was not enough to keep him afloat, he would take that green fiddle to his watery grave. His last thought as he sank below the surface was something that Fiona had said in the hotel dining room the night before the sailing.
“Don’t be silly Brian,” she had said, “the Titanic is the greatest ship ever built, it’s unsinkable.”