A Final Goodbye

Marjorie and I were inseparable. We went everywhere together, sat together for all our meals and we playmates. We even slept in the same bed. Mama tried very hard to separate us once, insisting I have my own bed, but Marjorie screamed so loud that Papa told Mama to just leave us be.

Papa was always so kind to us. He worked so hard, I think tears and tantrums just wore him out. He loathed to see tears. But the children did not to take advantage of his loving nature, it just wouldn’t be right and he did look so tired sometimes. With work and two older brothers, there was always much happening in the family.

The boys paid Marjorie and I little mind. Little girls did not make good playmates for boisterous boys who were always dirty and getting into trouble of one sort or another. We had no interest in ball games or catching frogs and they had no interest in tea parties and playing dollies.

There were of course things we all had in common. A love of Mama’s baking. She made the most beautiful cakes and biscuits! The smell of fresh baking could bring all of the children into the kitchen from any game, regardless of how exciting. Once in a while when the weather was nice and Papa was home with the family, we would go for an adventurous day in the countryside. These were relaxed days filled with sunshine, open spaces, wild flowers, climbing tall trees and discoveries. So very different from the crowded city. We were together as a family and happy.

Despite Marjorie and I not enjoying getting our dresses dirty or playing games in the street, we did enjoy an adventure. Marjorie’s first big adventure began when she had her seventh birthday. Until then, Mama and Papa had been her teachers. Mama taught her cooking and songs while Papa told us exciting stories from history of England and especially of the of Southampton where we lived. There were stories of Viking raids, boats with dragon heads and fierce warriors battling over riches. How exciting!

But it was time for her to go to school. We both wanted me to go too but Mama was firm and Papa was immune to tears this time. There were many tantrums and threats. Marjorie may as well have tried to move mountains. When the time came, I was left alone in our room, watching from the window and feeling so miserably alone.

I waited and watched all day, tracking the sun’s progress across the sky. Mama ignored me and left me to my sullen watch.

When Marjorie rounded the end of the block after what felt like an eternity, she was skipping ahead of the boys looking content. I had expected her to come running home to me the second school was done and spend the rest of the afternoon making up for lost time.

She broke into a run a short distance from the front door, her skirts flapping around her legs. Mama and Marjorie’s voices drifted up the stairs followed by fast footsteps. The door swung open and Marjorie dashed into the room scooping me up into a warm hug whispering ‘Princess Tilly! I missed you!” before launching into stories of her school adventure. Maybe school was not so bad after all.

And so, days at school passed with a routine of parting in the morning, Marjorie excited to see her friends at school and me waiting and watching from one of the windows. I preferred the high ones, but sometimes Mama would move me somewhere else if I was getting in the way. I wished more than once for a big adventure we could go on together.

My wish came true a year after Marjorie started school.

Papa’s company needed him in their office in the United States of America. Marjorie showed me on a map in Papa’s work room at home where it was. It was so far from Southampton! Mama told us we would be travelling there on a big ship the newspaper called The Ship of Dreams. Papa talked excitedly about it being ‘State of the Art’ and other things we didn’t really understand, but his excitement was infectious. What an adventure! We had been to the docks once before to see Mama’s sister and her husband leave on a ship, but ours was to be bigger. I could not imagine anything so grand!

Moving to a new land was a little scary. Marjorie worried about making new friends while the boys wondered what games the new neighbourhood boys would play. I’m not sure what Mama and Papa fretted about, but they did what they always had when they worried. They made lots of plans. Mama wrote to her sister and organised the house deciding what would go with us and what would need to be sold. She chatted about how lucky we were to already have family there, how much easier that would make settling into our new home and how excited she was to see her nephews and nieces. Papa told us all about how New York, the city we would sail into, was called ‘The City That Never Sleeps’ and had an amazing statue that was taller than 10 of our house stacked on top of each other!

The things to go with us were packed and waiting for the morning. Our ship had come into our port 7 days ago, causing great excitement all around. Friends and family had come to visit, to say their farewells during the week and perhaps catch a glimpse of the ship they had only seen in newspapers and magazines. Papa did not disappoint our visitors. He traipsed them down to the docks to see the marvellous sight. The rest of us were not allowed to go on account of the crowds Mama thought would be there. I don’t think Mama liked big groups of people much. She did show us pictures in the newspapers though. Oh! How the people looked so tiny beside it.

At first it had felt as though our grand adventure was a very long time away. However time did as it always seems to and after what felt like an age of waiting, it was suddenly the night before we were to leave.

It felt a little like Christmas Eve with much excitement and anticipation. Marjorie slept fitfully, waking regularly through the night and checking for signs of dawn. She missed the first light of the new day though, having fallen into a deep sleep early hours of the morning. Mama woke her as the sun peeked over the roofs of the sleepy city.

Papa had organised a horse drawn cab to collect us and our luggage from home at 9 o’clock. He had wanted to go later, but Mama had talked him into leaving earlier. I think maybe she was afraid we would be left behind. She fretted and fussed, checking on things she had already checked on many times before. The boys did not help. They could not hold still and their energy bubbled over into an impromptu foot face through the downstairs hall, almost running headlong into Mama who sent them out to the street under strict instructions not to go further than the corner house in our row and to stay clean. Even Papa, a normally quiet man who did not waste words or enjoy empty gestures was more talkative than usual.

When the cab arrived all of that pent-up energy had a direction. The cab driver and Papa worked together to load the heavier luggage while the two boys were set to work moving lighter things. Mama supervised the loading of luggage to make sure nothing was missed and things to stay behind were left. Marjorie and I sat on the stairs out of the way, watching the activities.

With the last of the luggage packed, the only home we had known so far echoed oddly. Mama took Marjorie’s hand while Marjorie held mine and we left home for the last time. Papa lifted us into the cab before helping Mama up the step too. With all the family settled into seats, we set off on our grand adventure.

There were lots of things to see on our way to the docks. People dressed in their best travelling clothes, other cabs like our own and even a few automobiles. Only a few people owned them in Southampton and they were quite exciting.

As our cab came closer to the docks, the boys and Marjorie tried to sit higher in their seats to catch a first glimpse of the ship. Their efforts were rewarded with the sight of the big black chimneys Papa called ‘stacks’ standing out against the blue sky over the tiled roof of the passenger building Papa called a terminal. Marjorie’s face lit up at the sight the same way it had when she returned home to tell me about her first day at school.

Our cab stopped outside the terminal and after helping everyone down the step, he showed papers to a porter who directed us to a table with a man dressed in uniform. Leaving the porter and the driver to take care of our luggage, Papa lead us through the terminal to the official man who checked our papers before sending the family to a set of stairs leading up the outside of the building’s brick wall. The boys took the long flight of stairs as a challenge and raced each other to the top. Mama looked about to call them back when Papa gently laid his hand on her arm and giving a small shake of his head. There were no other passengers on the stairs, no one for two boisterous boys to bother. On gaining the top stair, the boys stopped short and stared. We could all see why when we caught up to them.

The stairs joined to a wide covered walk way lined with big windows. Through the windows we had the best view of the ship we had had yet! Even seeing the photos did not prepare us for how large it really was. I think we all felt tiny beside it.

Papa led us across to the crewman welcoming passengers who directed us to the cabin that was to be our home for the next six days.

There was so much to see as Papa lead the way through the ship! The beautiful polished wood, soft patterned carpets, the shining glass of the chandeliers and windows that looked out onto the bay. The first sight of our cabin made Mama gasp. She grinned like a little girl opening presents on her birthday. The room was larger than Papa had led Mama to believe it was going to be. There were 4 bunk beds attached to the walls with curtains that could be pulled around for sleep. Mama and Papa were to have a bed each, the boys would share one and Marjorie and I the other. A couch with big deep cushions and a wardrobe took up the left wall and a desk covered the opposite. Between the bunk beds was a wash stand and mirror. Papa said we would be sharing a bathroom just down the hall with other passengers but his manager had been so pleased that he had agreed to move the family to another country, the company had requested a more comfortable cabin than the one most second-class passengers had. I wasn’t sure what second-class meant but Mama was so pleased with our room I don’t think it mattered.

Papa let us settle into our room before exploring the ship. Most people on the ship were walking about the decks taking in the views. Mama and Papa gave us permission to roam around as long as we didn’t go too far. The boys ran to the rail to watch the bustling activity on the docks. Marjorie and I wandered, looking in the windows lining the rooms on the deck. She held me up so we could look in the windows at the top of the stair case and were startled to see another face looking back.

We stared at each other for a heartbeat before Marjorie gave the other little girl a big smile. The newcomer smiled back shyly.

Her name was Nora and her family were from the country side outside of Dublin in Ireland. She said their room was in third-class down a few sets of stairs and while exploring she had found her way to the stairs we sat on. Her Mama had told her to be back before the ship left the docks because the doors would be shut preventing more exploring. The girls chatted happily, Marjorie listening intently to Nora’s stories of growing up in the Irish countryside with farm animals. In turn Nora gushed over me and stories of city living.

Papa interrupted the chatter, gently reminding Nora she would need to be on her way back to her family. Before turning away, Nora promised she would try to return the next day. Papa quietly suggested sometime after lunch. Nora beamed at him and scampered away.

Our family gathered at the rail to wave goodbye our homeland and the crowds of people on the dock as the ship slowly pulled out into the waters of the bay.

***

Papa’s company had some important people travelling on the ship too. Papa had been invited to lunch with them on our first full day out on the ocean and we had all been invited to join them.

The room was big and bright with beautiful furniture and decorations. It was so marvellously grand compared to the one we ate in normally. The adults talked during the meal about all sorts of things children find boring. The wide eyes of the children roamed around the room and whispered conversations were held about things seen. The cart laden with sweets did not escape notice. The older man who sat next to Marjorie and I at the table did not join the adult conversation often seeming to prefer to occasionally encourage the whispered conversations amongst the children.

When the sweets were served, a stern look from Mama had the children politely declining any offered treats. We watched, resigned to waiting for the little treat we would get after our evening meal. We had all been taught that staring was impolite, but it proved very difficult not to stare as the friendly gentleman chose a selection of delicious looking biscuits. I don’t think I had ever seen the boy’s eyes open so wide as while watching the number of sweets the gentleman piled onto his plate.

With the distraction of the sweets cart gone, the adults returned to their conversations with our friend joining in this time. While nodding along to a story being told, he picked biscuits off the plate in front of him. Rather than eating them though, he was doing something odd. He piled half of them into a napkin and wrapped them up into a neat little parcel setting it aside before doing the same with all bar two of the remaining sweets. He then ate those two with his cup of tea.

Mama ushered us towards the door after the meal was done, politely thanking Papa’s supervisor for the lovely invitation to lunch with him. While Mama and Papa were busy taking leave, our lunch companion turned to speak to the children. He lent down speaking in a low tone, first to the boys, passing them one of his wrapped parcels which the boys took gleefully before hiding it from Mama’s sight. Next, he turned and smiled at Marjorie handing her the second parcel. Marjorie smiled broadly back as he placed a finger against his lips and made a quiet shooshing sound. She nodded and tucked the package between us. Papa looked Mama’s arm in his and beckoned us to follow.

Once back on our deck, Papa suggested taking a walk and gave us instructions to stay within the boundaries of the open deck before he and Mama walked on to take in the cool fresh air. The boys immediately found some out of the way deck chairs while Marjorie and I headed to the stairs where we had met Nora.

Nora was waiting, excitedly beckoning us to a door almost hidden from notice on the landing. Beyond was a small room with cushions and blankets stacked neatly on shelves, two round windows in the wall allowed the afternoon light in. The two girls set to work spreading out a blanket and cushions to sit on. Marjorie sat me between herself and Nora before unwrapping the napkin filled with treats to share. Nora stoked my hair and offered me a biscuit politely before taking one herself. The afternoon passed with animated chatter and giggles before we heard a familiar voice on the stairs calling us.

The blanket and cushions were neatly put back before the girls made promises to try and come back again each day at the same time. Papa smiled as Nora waved good-bye and disappeared back down the stairs.

For the next 3 days Papa suggested walks after lunch and allowed the children to wander, as long as they promised not to leave the area.

Marjorie and I loved hearing all of Nora’s stories of home and family. Sitting together in our little room in the afternoon sun was like being in our own little world. What a perfect adventure we were having!

Our bed time routine was not very different from home. We all kissed Papa goodnight, said our prayers with Mama before she tucked us in and kissed each child on the forehead before drawing the curtains across. The sounds at night were different on the ship than the city streets we were used to. No horses on the street or the birds that roosted in the eaves of the houses. Instead, there was the breath of the family, voices in the corridors, the waves of the ocean, doors opening and closing. None of them felt out of place and were all muted like listening through a thick blanket. All were oddly calming sounds.

That changed on the fifth night after we left Southampton. Instead of the gentle rocking we become used to, a shaking and horrible loud sound woke us. Mama told us to stay in our beds while Papa put on his robe and stepped through the door to find out what was happening. The normally quiet night time voices got louder, sounding worried. Somewhere we could hear crying and a man’s stern voice could be heard above the other voices.

Mama shushed the boys when they asked questions and sat watching the door, waiting anxiously for Papa to return. It felt like forever listening to the voices around us before he returned. His usual calm was gone and worry covered his face. Papa’s calm was our calm too. With it gone we all felt worry and fear settle in.

Papa quietly spoke to Mama before she quickly set out warm clothes and everyone changed out of bedclothes. Two small bags and Mama’s hand bag were quickly packed with pieces of paper and other things important to adults. The boys wanted to take their games too, but were made to leave them behind. Marjorie held me close to her side as we watched the boys cry over their toys. Mama looped two of the bags over her shoulder, took one of the boys and Marjorie by the hand, while Papa took the other bag in one hand and the other brother in his free one.

The hallways were full of people all jostling and pushing, many crying and panicked voices all around. I couldn’t really see what was happening or where we were going, but Marjorie held me close and tight even though I could hear her whimper from time to time. She must have been so afraid. We reached the stairs with our secret room and there were more people than in the hallways. Men and women dressed in what Mama would have called ‘fine’ fabrics pushed each other, shouting so their voices made no sense.

One man fell over and knocked into Mama. Her hold on Marjorie’s hand did not fail, but she fell sideways and Marjorie was pulled from her feet, hitting the ground hard, her breath whooshing out of her.

And she let me go.

In the confusion I got pushed all the way to the wall where no one paid me any mind. I saw Papa take Mama’s arm and pull her upright again. She scooped Marjorie into her arms, tears running down my dear Marjorie’s stunned face. I wanted to call out to her, but I couldn’t. I watched helpless as Papa picked up his bag again and ushered the family out of the press of people through a space that had opened up in the crowd. I was terrified. Other than when Marjorie was at school, I’d never really been away from her.

Marjorie did not come back for me, neither had anyone else. Maybe they hadn’t realised I was missing? I sat against the wall for a long while watching more people come through from the stairs. Some people’s clothes were wet. The people running up the stairs seemed to not see me. Until a small girl noticed me on my own. Nora dodged around people’s legs. She scooped me up and hugged me tight whispering ‘Tilly!’. I was so happy to see her. She looked so scared but her face lit up when she held me. She looked like she was alone too.

It was then the world felt like it tilted. Nora must have noticed too because she looked scared again. The place Nora had found me was beside our secret room. She opened the door quickly and closed it behind us. The room was dark lit only by a little light coming through the round windows, but it was familiar.

Nora gathered a blanket and cushions and wrapped us up together. She chatted nonstop to me. I think it comforted her. It comforted me. In our secret room the scary sounds of crying, shouting, strange metal sounds and things breaking came from far away. Nora held me closer as the world tilted more.

She continued to hold me even after the cold, dark water covered us both. She held me even after she stopped breathing.

***

Luke stretched his arms over his head and his legs under the table so only his butt and shoulders touched the chair, his body in a straight line. He groaned and slouched back into the seat. He sighed, looking at his assignment again. It was due in two days and he couldn’t really afford to procrastinate any more.

He still found himself clicking on his favourite social media app instead of the library catalogue he was supposed to be searching. He stopped and stared at the video advertising banner.

“Mum! Muuuuuuuum!” he called over his shoulder loudly.

His mum came running around the edge of the doorway wiping flour from her hands with a red and white chequered tea towel.

“What? What’s happened?” she wiped her hair back from her forehead leaving a trail of flour on her skin.

“You have to see this!” Luke said excitedly pointing at the screen. “Doesn’t that one look exactly like the one from Gramma’s photos?”

“My goodness’, Tilly breathed out the words continuing to wipe her hands on the towel. ‘You know, I think it might be!”

Luke thought he would have to do some convincing, but found out all he really needed to do was mention the Titanic display he has seen advertised to his Great Grandmother Marjorie and she did all the talking.

“Don’t be silly, Tilly! The display is in our own city! And Luke is a strapping young man, he can push my chair!” After her daughter had passed away, Tilly and Luke had been regularly visiting Marjorie, better known as Gramma or sometimes Marg. She was a strong personality. Ever since Luke was young, Gramma had been telling him stories about her time on the Titanic, showing him photos of the ill-fated ship and her childhood in Southampton.

So, when he saw the ads for a display of Titanic relics and immersive video tour of the wreck a recent research group had put together, he did not share his mother’s concern that taking Marg to see it would be traumatic.

With Luke pushing her wheelchair they had wandered through the glass cases filled with fine bone chins plates, drinking glasses, wine bottles, menus and other things with the name of the Titanic or the White Star Line crest on them. Marg had stopped them at photos of the ship or people and regaled them with details not included in the narrative underneath them.

The immersive video experience was what Luke was really looking forward to walking through. The room had screens on the walls and ceiling with lights playing over the floor that were meant to give viewers the feeling like they were exploring the wreck as it was 88 years after it sank.

“Oh!”, Tilly let out a gasp as they walked through the doorway.

Marg looked around awed.

“My goodness”, she whispered.

Luke was already looking for the image he had seen online.

The effect was stunning. A sound track of the sound of water played softly and the videos gave the illusion the air it’s self was rippling like water. Titanic looked like a ghost ship, stalactites hanging off the rails and parts of the ship collapsing in places. After a few minutes of walking in silence, they arrived at the video Luke had been looking for.

A dolls face sat on the ocean floor gazing serenely back at them and Luke stopped in front of the screen.

“She looks like your doll, Gramma,’ Luke broke the silence, “the one you have photos of.”

“Yes. Yes, she does. The same shaped nose.” Marg’s voice trailed off. Luke put his hand on her shoulder. Something in her voice sounded mournful. He had never heard anything like it in her voice before, even when talking about his grandmother.

“I lost her,” she said quietly, “I dropped her during the rush to get off the ship as it sank.” Luke could feel the shuddering breath she took.

“I.....” a deep breath and she tried again. “I was devastated. I was eight when we left Southampton and Princess Tilly had been my constant companion for years” Marg looked at her granddaughter and smiled. “You are named after your mother. Tilly was her middle name. I never told her, but she was named after my lost doll.”

Tilly knelt beside Marg’s chair and smiled.

“I think it may have been a shock for her to learn she was named after a doll, but she would have seen the funny side of it.”

From the angle he stood, Luke could see tears start down his Great Grandmother’s cheeks.

“Gramma, I’m so sorry, I never meant to upset you.” He squeezed her shoulder and she placed her hand over his.

“Oh, darling boy! You misunderstand. These are happy tears.” She took a deep shuddering breath.

“You see, I lost more than my beloved doll that day. I lost a friend. Nora. I looked for her on all of the lists of survivors every chance I got. I looked and looked. I had a couple people check the electronic records when they were made available hoping to see her name. After a while I stopped searching for a survivor. I checked the list of lost passengers. She wasn’t there either. It’s like she never existed. And that made me even more sad. There will never be a memorial for my friend. Nowhere to leave flowers for a young life cut short.” Marg paused, wiping away a tear. She reached out to touch the screen.

“You see that little imperfection on her ear? It’s a chip in the porcelain. My brothers were playing ball in the house and accidentally knocked her from my hands the day Papa gave her to me.”

Luke stared. He hadn’t noticed it before.

“Oh,” Tilly put her hand over her mouth, “Gramma! That’s your doll.”

Marg nodded. "My Princess Tilly."

“That story is so sad! Why did you say they were happy tears?” Luke looked at her in confusion.

“Because now I know Nora was not alone,” she looked up at Luke with a smile. “She had Princess Tilly. Oh, I know she may not have had my precious doll with her, but with nowhere to lay flowers, losing Tilly to the sea feels like leaving a tribute. They were together and that brings me comfort.”

Marg took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and smiled at her companions.

“Thank you, Luke, this was wonderful. I’m ready to go home now.”

***

In honour of the approximately 1160 souls who perished at sea with the Titanic in the early hours of the 15th of April 1912, never to be laid to rest.

May you have found peace.