The Titanic

Margaret Finnigan sat on one of the many wooden chairs that had been brought from every room on the ship. Her long brown hair was streaked through with grey, the only give away of her true age. Otherwise she seemed far younger than her true 58 years old. Her large watery blue eyes were red rimmed and raw, from all the tears that had leaked over in the past few hours. Let alone the shock of what had happened.

People sat all around her, all dressed much the same as she was, wet or drying clothes, a white life jacket and a towel wrapped tightly around them as they fought desperatly to regain some of the heat they had lost while waiting in the boats. Some spoke in hushed tones to the people next to them, others soothed crying children. Many had lost fathers, husbands, brothers. Most everyone here had lost someone. "I just wanted to visit my boy Seamus," she whispered to the woman sitting next to her. "He left three years ago, he went to New York to become a writer. He sends me letters every week." she sniffed, holding back the next set of tears that threatened to burst forth. "And then, one week he said that he was getting his first book published, and he sent me this ticket. So I could come over and live with him. So he could take care of me." She paused briefly, closing her eyes, she was so tired. Nobody in the large room had slept in the last 14 hours, they were all waiting anxiously to hear about relatives.

She opened her eyes again. "So I packed my bags, it didn't take me long. I dont really have many things, never did. I dont believe in haveing too many things. I brought some clothes, a few things to remind me of home." she sobbed loudly. "It's all gone now, everything I own. My son wont know if I'm alive or dead."

"I'm sure he isn't too worried," the woman next to her said, not looking in her direction, but instead at a small group of people on the far side of the deck.

"I hope not," the woman said again and closed her eyes, drifting into an uneasy sleep.

*****

There was a thud, a smash, and then a long drawn out scream as ice dragged over metal. She woke with a start as the boat moved past the ice berg. She was one of the many who did. From her small, third class cabin she stumbled from the bed, instantly awake despite the sleep that had only moments ago been in her eyes. Poking her head out the door she saw many others, their heads stuck groggily around doorframes, some running up the corridor in their pyjamas and dressing gowns. Grabbing hers she followed, wrapping it tightly around her to keep in what little heat she did posess.

Reaching the deck with the many others they saw ice, everywhere. Large lumps of it laying on the deck. Some of the younger men lifted up chunks, and threw them from one to another as a game. More and more people were beginning to appear above deck, and despite the bitter cold few left. After about twenty minutes of silence, two crewmen came along, told them to go back to bed. "Everything is fine" they said. "Just get back to bed and out of the cold."

So they had, they had gone back to bed. And most had put the incident out of their minds and soon drifted back to their comfortable dreams. Margaret had, she had drifted off to dreams of her new life with her son in New York. He had mentioned a girl in one of his most recent. Margaret hoped she would be nice. Not a ditzy New York type, but a nice girl with Irish blood in her. She felt she had only been back in her bed for a few minutes when she heard a sharp knock on the door. Sitting groggily up she reached out and walked to the door. She pulled it open, "What sort of hour do you think this is?" she asked sharply, "I am an old woman, and need my sleep."

A young crewman stood at her door, "Sorry ma'am," he said, "But I've been instructed to give you this," he handed her a large white life jacket. "You're to put it on ma'am and put on all your warm clothes and report to the main deck."

Before she could ask what was happening the man moved on, rapping on the next door and giving out the same instructions. She hurried inside and pulled on her clothes and the life jacket. Blasted things, they wrere so bulky, and hard to move it. And then made her way to the deck.

If she had thought it crowded the first day as they left Queenstown, she had been sorely wrong. The decks were packed with what seemed to be every person on the ship. Women dragged children back and forth across the deck, trying to find out what was happening. Margaret heard someone shout in the distance, "We're sinking. Dear god." People all around her ran to and fro. She could hear a string quartet playing somewhere on the deck, she could see people lugging cases of their belongings. Soon the deck would fill and the terror felt now would intensify....

****

Margaret woke with a start, someone next to her had shaken her. "What, what's happening?" she mumbled as she woke.

Nobody responded. They just carried on around her, doing what needed to be done. "What's happening?" she asked again, louder this time. Again nobody responded. She stood up and walked slowly around, trying to attract the attention of someone near her. Nobody answered.

****

Four days later.

"Mr Finnigan?" a tall man stood in the door of the small flat. Seamus Finnigan stood dressed in just his pyjamas. He had been waiting anxiously for three days to hear news of what had happened on the Titanic.

"Yes?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm afraid it's bad news. Your mother, she was aboard the ship when it sank, she made it to a lifeboat, but died soon after reaching the Carpathia. We suspect a heart attack." the man paused. "I'm sorry for your loss."