Remembering the Titanic (7 page)

Not that she’d had much luck “settling” Paddy down lately.

As always when she saw him, her breath caught in her throat. Even when, as now, she was furious with him, her first instinct whenever he appeared was to rush to him and throw herself into his arms. Thank the stars she’d been raised not to behave so unladylike, or it would be a fool she’d be making of herself, right there in the streets of Brooklyn.

He saw her sitting on Mary’s steps and loped across the street in that lazy, arrogant way he had.

He didn’t come to my social, Katie reminded herself firmly, refusing to stand up and greet him. He had more important things to do.

But half an hour later, wearing a fresh white middy and firmly holding Bridget’s hand, Katie was climbing into another cab and heading for Manhattan with Paddy. “I’m takin’ the afternoon off from writin’,” he’d said excitedly, “and you’re comin’ with me into the city. The wee one can come along, if you’ve a mind to bring her. She should see the big city, anyways.”

When Katie asked what they would be doing when they got to the city, Paddy shook his handsome head. “ ’Tis a surprise.”

Paddy hadn’t said a word about her ice cream social. He hadn’t apologized for not showing up, and he hadn’t even asked her how it had been. It was as if it hadn’t happened. And Katie was too stubborn to bring it up herself. Anyways, that would just start an argument, and she didn’t want to ruin the day for Bridget, who was staring out the taxicab window with huge brown eyes. Her parents had not yet taken her to the city, and she was trying to take in everything at once. She was impressed by the Brooklyn Bridge, which Katie thought ugly but preferred to the riverboats, feeling the way she did about boats now. Paddy pointed out the top of the Woolworth Building, the tallest in the world.

“How do people get to the top of it?” Bridget, nearly hanging out the taxicab’s window, asked breathlessly.

“The tallest buildings have elevators,” Katie answered, her heart pounding at the thought of the dreaded iron cages. “And all of them have stairs, just like you do at your house.”

Though Katie disliked the hustle and bustle of New York City, Bridget seemed to love it. “So many people,” she declared, “and so many cars and big buildings. How come the ground don’t cave in?”

Katie’s worry exactly.

Paddy directed the driver to their final destination. When it pulled up in front of Grand Central Station and stopped, Katie was delighted. Grand Central was a fair interesting place. Twice on a Saturday afternoon, she and Paddy had whiled away several happy hours doing nothing more than sitting on benches watching people hurry by. Paddy called it “gatherin’ writin’ material.” Imagining what kind of lives different people led, where they lived, what their occupation might be, where they were going to or coming from, was, he said, “food for writin’.”

Katie just thought it great fun.

“Oh, you’re goin’ to like this,” she told Bridget as they climbed from the cab and the driver sped away. “You’ll see more people inside here than you’ll see in a month of Sundays in Brooklyn, ’Tis a great place to see how New Yorkers dress and hear how they talk as they hurry past.”

But when they were inside, instead of leading them to a centrally located bench where they’d be sure to have a good view of passersby hurrying to and from the trains, Paddy kept walking.

“Where are you goin’?” Katie asked, her eyes on a particularly well-situated bench. If they didn’t position themselves on it quickly, someone else might take it.

He turned to face her. “I’ve a surprise for you. We’re goin’ to take a train ride. You haven’t yet, and today seemed like a good day. Bridget will love it.” Paddy took the little girl’s hand in his. “So will you, Katie. It’ll be an adventure.” Smiling, he looked deep into her eyes. “We haven’t been seein’ enough of each other, didn’t you say so yourself? A nice, quiet train ride is just the ticket.” He laughed. “Ticket? Maybe I’m gettin’ better at playin’ around with words.”

Katie frowned, uncomprehending.

“You need a ticket to get on the train,” Paddy explained. “Come on now, we’re wastin’ time.”

But when Paddy had purchased three tickets to a destination he refused to reveal, he motioned Katie toward a set of wide steps leading downward.

She stopped walking.
Down?
He was taking them
down
?
Belowground?
Her stomach twisted, and her palms grew clammy. No …
no
… she couldn’t!

Realizing she wasn’t following, Paddy stopped and turned around, as did Bridget. “Come on, then, our train leaves in six minutes.”

Katie didn’t move. “We have to go down?”

He frowned. “The trains are down there. They come in through tunnels forty feet underground. Amazin’, ain’t it? Come on, then.”

Katie gasped. Forty feet underground? Tunnels? She broke out in a cold sweat. She took a step backward, nearly bumping into a couple hurrying toward the stairs. “You didn’t say it was underground.”

Paddy sighed impatiently. “It ain’t underground the whole way. Not like the subway. I know you’d hate that. The trains only come in and out underground, that’s all. Just a few minutes, and then you’re up top, honest.”

Katie tried. Paddy had taken this time for her, and she wanted to have a good time. And Bridget seemed excited about the prospect of a train ride.

So she went down one step … two … three … people hurried past her, far more anxious than she to descend … four … now the darkness below was visible, staring up at her as if to say, Go ahead, then, come on down so I can swallow you up. Hurry, so I can close in on you like the walls of a coffin.

Katie stopped on the fifth step down. Her legs felt like jelly, and her hands were shaking. “I’m not going down there, Paddy. I can’t.” What was the
matter
with him? Had he forgotten the torturous time she’d spent in the subterranean passageways of
Titanic
, trying to find a way up top? He knew all about it. Wasn’t he the one, then, who had found her? He’d
seen
the state she was in. He knew better than anyone how impossible it was for her to be closed in now. And since he wasn’t an ignorant lout, he had to know how much worse it would be for her to be enclosed in something that was
belowground
. The thought of a tunnel, dark and narrow, made her physically ill. “I can’t go down there. Take me home, Paddy. Take Bridget and me home.”

He was at her side then, looking genuinely puzzled. “Katie, it’s just a train ride. People take them all the time.” He waved his hands to encompass the stream of would-be passengers hurrying past them on the stairs. “The trains are perfectly safe.”

She backed up another step. She was trembling. “No, they’re not. That’s not true. I’m reading in the
Herald
almost every day about train accidents.” That was true enough. “And people say they’re bumpy and noisy and…” But none of that had anything to do with it. If the train hadn’t been underground, if it hadn’t entered through a tunnel, she would have tried it, just for the adventure of it. She hated being afraid of things, and never had been before. Never. But she wasn’t going down into that black tunnel. Not now. Not ever.

“We’re not going to have an accident.” Paddy’s tone was patient enough, but he was tapping the three tickets against one hand impatiently. “Do you think I’d be takin’ you and little Bridget here on a train if I wasn’t thinkin’ it was safe, then? Wouldn’t that make me some kind of callous brute? I was just thinkin’, this is the best way for you to get over your fear of bein’ belowground. Can’t be like that forever, you know.”

So he
hadn’t
forgotten her terror. Somehow that made it worse. Why should Paddy Kelleher be deciding how she was supposed to get over something? What did he know about such things?

He softened his voice in that way he had when he wanted something and he thought the other person was being unreasonable in not granting it. “Katie-girl, we’re in the big city now. This ain’t Ballyford, where the only way to get around is by jaunting cart or lorry. Isn’t it grand, then, that they got trains right here in the city?”

Katie lost her temper. “ ’Tis cruel of you to be remindin’ me this ain’t Ballyford, when you know full well that’s where I’d rather be! And I’m
not
goin’ down into any black underground tunnel, Patrick Kelleher. You take us home right now, or I’ll get us there meself!” Though she had no idea how. She’d brought no money with her. Hadn’t thought she’d need any, since Edmund always saw to it that Paddy had plenty in his pockets. If she had to, she’d find a telephone somewheres and call Flo. Flo would get her and Bridget home, even if she had to drive them there herself.

Paddy knew Katie well enough to sense when it would be easier to move the Brooklyn Bridge than to change her mind. He gave up, and they turned and went back up the steps and outside.

No one suggested that they sit on a bench and people watch.

The fresh air felt wonderful to Katie.

But the cab ride home was a silent one. A confused Bridget stared solemnly out the window, Paddy sat as far away from Katie as possible, and Katie herself fought angry tears. She wanted to tell Paddy how she felt, how hurt she was that he had tried to push her into “gettin’ over” her terror. Wasn’t that easy, was it? She couldn’t help the way her stomach started to hurt and her chest ached and she couldn’t breathe and she broke out in a cold sweat when she found herself in a small, enclosed space, especially one underground. Didn’t do it on purpose, did she, then? If she could stop it, she would.

She wanted to tell Paddy how she felt, how hurt she was that he hadn’t come to the social. She wanted him to know how upset she was that he’d expected her to descend those stone steps into the darkness of a narrow tunnel. But she didn’t want to talk about those things in front of Bridget or the taxicab driver.

Paddy would probably drop them off in Brooklyn and speed away without so much as a good-bye, and she’d never get the chance to say what she felt. He was probably thinking that here he’d taken time away from his busy life in the city to spend an afternoon with her, and she’d gone and ruined it. Probably blaming her. He wouldn’t take an afternoon off again any time soon, not for her.

When they pulled up in front of the roominghouse, Paddy got out to silently hold the door open for Katie and Bridget. Spotting Mary sitting on their steps, looking healthy and refreshed, Bridget cried out and ran to her.

“I’m sorry I ruined the fine afternoon you’d planned,” Katie said quietly, looking up into Paddy’s face with pained eyes. “But I’m not ready to be ridin’ along underground in a dark tunnel. I’d think you’d know that.”

His eyes avoiding hers, he shrugged. “Could be I was wrong,” he said reluctantly, surprising her. Being wrong was not something Paddy Kelleher admitted readily. “Askin’ too much of you, could be.” He looked down at her then, concern on his handsome face. “You was shakin’ somethin’ fierce, Katie. Just like down there in the
Titanic
when I came across you and the wee ones. I didn’t know it was still that bad.” Then, even though it was broad daylight, even though Mrs. Toomey and Mrs. Costello were sitting on their front porches, and Mary and Bridget and Mrs. Murphy on theirs, and even though there were children playing stickball in the street, Paddy took Katie into his arms and kissed her for all the world to see. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” he murmured into her ear. “I wasn’t thinkin’ clear, and that’s the truth. And I’m sorry I missed your singin’ Sunday night, too. Doesn’t seem like I’m much good to you these days. Don’t know why you put up with me. Was I as bright as me brother was, you’d be a sight better off.”

Surprised, Katie pulled away from him. He had never talked like that before. Hadn’t even mentioned Brian in months. It was one thing for
her
to think that Paddy Kelleher wasn’t much use to her these days, what with him so busy in the city and all. But it sounded odd to hear him giving voice to the very same thought. It wasn’t like him, not like him at all. Confused, she said softly, “I love you just the way you are, Paddy. Why would I be wishin’ you was somebody else?”

Mary and Bridget had clapped loudly when Paddy kissed Katie. Aware of eyes still upon them, Katie added, “Come on inside then. We can talk about Bri if you want, or about us if that’s what you’re wantin’. I do want to tell you all about Flo and the places she’s goin’ to have me sing. We
need
to talk, Paddy.”

At first she thought he might say yes. He seemed to hesitate, even take a step forward. But when she said “Bri,” his eyes clouded, and he shook his head. “Can’t just now,” he said. “Got to get back. There’s some ‘do’ tonight I’m supposed to go to. But I’ll telephone you later, if I get home in time.” He kissed her on the cheek, then stepped around her to enter the cab.

Mary and Bridget were smiling as the cab pulled away. Katie wasn’t. Because Paddy had taken the afternoon off for a train trip, but they hadn’t
taken
that train trip. So why was it he couldn’t have used all that time left over for a talk with her, when she was needing it so sorely?

Because he didn’t want to, came the disheartening answer.

And on the heels of that came an even more disturbing thought. He still thought she’d have been better off with Brian? After all this time, after everything they’d been through together? How could he be thinking that?

What was
wrong
with Paddy?

“I
HAVE NEVER BEEN
so mortified in my life! My own daughter, falling asleep in the middle of a performance, for all the world to see. Elizabeth, how
could
you! Mrs. Schermin was staring at you. I’m sure she must think I’ve raised you with no appreciation for the arts whatever.”

“I don’t care what she thinks. The opera was boring. If we’d gone to see the Castles the way I wanted, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep. It would have been more fun. I wasn’t tired, I was bored.”

Nola sniffed in disdain. “Vernon and Irene Castle are vulgar. Their dancing is vulgar, I don’t care how popular they are. Perhaps I
did
raise you with no appreciation for the arts.”

Elizabeth leaned back against the car seat. “I don’t want to argue, Mother. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. Maybe next time you should go with your friends and I’ll stay home with a good book.” Or go visit Max and his friends in Greenwich Village. She hadn’t seen any of them in a while. She missed the lively discussions. And she missed Max fiercely. She so seldom saw him these days. He was busy, and her mother certainly kept
her
busy.