The White Empress (19 page)

Cat was not sorry to leave Liverpool, the place looked as desolate as she felt. She’d left an allotment of a few shillings
for Eamon, to be drawn by Maisey and only Maisey. She hadn’t seen David during her leave, but he had telephoned and Marie
had told him of the death in the family. A large bouquet had arrived the following day with a card bearing the simple message,
‘With my deepest sympathy, David’.

Some of her depression was dispelled when she found she would be working on B deck and the full opulence of the ship was enfolded
before her eyes. The Salle Jacques Cartier dining room occupied the full width of the ship on D deck and had been designed,
as had the two smaller, private dining salons, by Frank Brangwyn, who had also designed the cold buffet which rose in tiers
from the floor to the ceiling of the enormous room.

On the lounge deck was the Empress Ballroom with its huge domed ceiling on which was painted a mural of a representation of
the sky on the night the ship was
launched. The Mayfair Lounge had been designed by Sir Charles Allom and the walls were panelled in polished woods of varying
hues, all blending and merging, adding a depth of warmth to the Palladian Lounge. At the forward end was a large tapestry
panel that covered the entire wall, depicting the hunting exploits of the Emperor Maximillian. In the Cathay Lounge, which
was also the smoking room, Chinese lacquer vases and motifs and rattan furniture lent it an Oriental theme.

At the head of the wide, deeply carpeted, main staircase was an enormous painting by Maurice Griffenhagen, RA of
Champlain Bringing his Wife to Quebec
. The Olympian Pool, the largest swimming pool on any Liner, was at the after end of F deck. Water poured into the pool from
a large turtle carved from Portland stone and the pool itself was inlaid with blue mosaic and illuminated from below. Alongside
were Turkish baths and massage rooms. On B deck there were squash and tennis courts. There were numerous other bars and lounges,
including the Knickerbocker Bar, a cocktail lounge in very modern taste.

The first-class passengers had the choice of six deluxe suites which included a vestibule, sitting room, double bedroom, bathroom
and small dressing room, all furnished in pastels and prints. And there were the spacious two berth cabins or fourteen special
state rooms. Such unimagined opulence took Cat’s breath away. The lustre of polished woods, the soft plush and velvet upholstery,
the crystal chandeliers, the long balconies with their exquisite fretwork, the sweeping staircases, the gilt-framed mirrors,
the ornately framed pictures. It
was
a floating palace. She also learned the origin of the word ‘posh’. It was made up from the first letter of each word of the
phrase ‘port out, starboard home’.

In one of the state cabins, she smoothed the satin coverlet with gentle reverence. Its delicate shade of turquoise-blue matched
the rest of the furnishings and toned with the pale, cream-coloured carpet. The rosewood furniture gleamed. So this was how
the fabulously wealthy lived and travelled! Helping themselves from the range of exotic culinary delicacies arranged with
cunning artistry on the cold buffet; being served dinner on fine china; wine in crystal glasses, coffee from solid silver
services. Fresh flowers on the crisp white tablecloths, seated in velvet upholstered chairs with carved gilt frames. Indeed
it was another world. A world she had never, even in her wildest flights of imagination, ever envisaged. She glanced around.
Soon the wardrobes would be bursting with expensive gowns from exclusive shops. The dressing table would be covered in bottles
of French perfume and cosmetics. Flowers would fill the room. She could almost smell the perfumes, hear the sounds, the tinkling
laughter, taste the wines. Oh, one day she would travel like this. In sheer, abandoned luxury. She gave the coverlet a last
pat and came back to reality. Not yet. Not for a long time yet. There was still work to be done.

She found Anne’s comments on the nature of the rich and famous to be mainly true. There were few sharp rebukes, no constant
complaints, no petty requests. The ladies she attended, bringing fresh towels, changing the flowers, laying out their clothes,
serving them breakfast
and afternoon tea, were pleasant but not patronising and she therefore found her work less physically and nervously demanding.

They made the crossing in record time for the
Empress of Britain
was the biggest and fastest ship of her day. Within a matter of days Anne was dragging her up on deck for her first view
of New York. If her first sight of Canada had enthralled her, then her first sight of New York amazed and overawed her. There
was no need for Anne to point out the Statue of Liberty or Ellis Island, where so many of her own countrymen had landed, destitute,
and had risen to wealth. The grey winter twilight was a backcloth for the myriad of lights on the horizon, reaching into the
sky itself as Anne pointed out the Empire State Building and the skyscrapers of the Rockefeller Centre, like diamond-studded
candles rising into the sky. As they drew closer the panorama widened. The spark of excitement Cat had first felt had turned
into a blaze.

‘I’m . . . I’m just . . . speechless!’ she stammered.

The tooting of the Staten Island Ferry heralded their approach and was taken up by the tugs and other shipping and again the
great White Empress gracefully received the salutations of her peers as she entered the Hudson River, to be guided into Pier
No. 7 where the longshoremen were waiting for her.

Anne turned away, complaining of the cold for it was a sight she had seen before, but Cat remained, gazing at the spectacle
of twinkling lights that stretched before her. She felt as though she were dreaming, that in reality she was two people. One
half of her was the wide-eyed waif,
the other the confident young woman. ‘You’ve come a long way, Cat Cleary,’ she whispered aloud. ‘Whoever would have believed
that you, a Dublin slummy, could ever have come so far? To see such a sight. To be part of such a welcome. To be part of such
a ship.’ She smiled to herself as she turned to follow Anne below.

There wasn’t much time ashore but David duly escorted her around some of the sights. Times Square and Broadway. Central Park.
Fifth Avenue and Madison Avenue where she drooled over the stores. She found New York a bustling, abrasive, exhilarating city
and was disappointed when they returned to the ship for the last time.

She had found herself trusting David more and more, for he was fun to be with, he made her laugh and forget the more serious
thoughts that troubled her. Yet he was thoughtful, buying her the odd trinket, the single flower, presented with such theatrical
flourish that she found she could only laugh and not suspect any ulterior motives. In fact they spent so little time together
that there wouldn’t have been much time for anything else, she mused.

‘We’ll have more time to explore when we get back, we’ll be lying up for a week before the next onslaught, then we’ll really
be able to “go on the town”,’ he had promised.

She tickled his cheek with the bunch of violets he had bought her. ‘I’ll probably be too exhausted to do little more than
sleep.’

‘Well then, I’ll have to make sure we both put our time ashore in the Caribbean to good use.’

She laughed. ‘Can there be anywhere as exciting as New York?’

‘A million and one places and we’ll see them all, I promise!’

‘All at once?’

‘No, you sweet, silly fool! Next year we’re going on a world cruise and then “the world will be your oyster, M’am!”’ He swept
her an exaggerated bow which made her laugh again.

‘Oh, be serious, David! I’ve only just got used to the idea of visiting places like Cuba, Jamaica, Haiti! It’s like taking
a trip straight out of an atlas, except that instead of pictures I’ll be able to see them, hear the sounds, smell the exotic
perfumes . . .’

‘Some of the perfumes are far from exotic, I can assure you!’

‘Oh, don’t be such a killjoy!’

He pulled her close and kissed her. ‘I’ve seen them all before, Cat, but it will be fun exploring them all again with you.’

She didn’t pull away from him. ‘Do you really mean that?’

‘Of course I do! You are a joy! You see everything through eyes that are not jaded or sceptical. Your bubbling enthusiasm
is catching, you’re . . . You’re so sweet!’

‘I’ve never been called that before!’ she laughed. ‘When I first met you you said I was independent. Did I give you a false
impression?’

‘You did. I never expected that beneath the cool, elegant and rather superior woman, there was a charming, sweet, bubbly girl!’

‘So you think I’ve changed?’

‘No. I think you were always like that. Miss Prim and Proper was just a façade to hide behind, but what you were trying to
hide I don’t know!’

Her smile faded, remembering her childhood and her desperate and determined obsession to overcome those handicaps. ‘Perhaps
you’re right, David, but I still have my ambitions. I’m still a very determined person!’

‘And so am I,’ he murmured before he kissed her goodnight.

As they were not sailing far enough south to cross the Equator she was saved the usual horseplay that accompanied ‘crossing
the line’, although Anne warned her that she wouldn’t escape forever and after listening to the tales of the drenchings and
duckings of the other stewardesses, Cat was greatly relieved.

The weather grew steadily warmer as they sailed south, leaving behind the dismal skies, the rain and the wind, and, whenever
time permitted, she went up on deck to savour the warmth of the sun. The night sky had changed, too. It was now of sapphire
velvet, studded with stars that seemed bigger and brighter than those further north. The breeze was warm and perfumed, sighing
as it rippled through her hair. The sea was changing colour. A vivid aquamarine by day, a deep purple at night. The ripples
from the bow wave like the undulations of a satin gown.

She was enjoying her work now and the pace seemed slower. There was no constant ringing of bells in her ears, for the demands
made on her by her passengers
were small, compared to her first trip. Their first port of call was Havana, Cuba, and when work was finished they were allowed
four hours ashore, which, as Anne commented drily, was just enough time to have a drink and buy the traditional cigars for
your dad. As Cat had not the slightest intention of buying anything for her father and had a slight headache, it was with
some reluctance that she was persuaded to go ashore.

‘What’s the matter with you? You’ve got to come, make the most of it, see everything! I thought you were bursting with excitement?’

‘I am, but—’

‘Oh, I see! You’d sooner Mr Barratt take you ashore?’

Cat shrugged. ‘He can’t get the time off.’ Anne had accurately hit upon her lack of interest. She had been disappointed, then
depressed when she had received the message. Their first port and she had wanted to see it with him. These days she seemed
to want to share all her new experiences with him. He was so unlike any man she’d known before. He was handsome, intelligent
and oh so charming. He made her feel she was someone very special and no one had ever made her feel like that.

‘So you’re going to sit here and mope? Get your bag, you’re coming with us!’

She had enjoyed it more than she had expected. The company of the other girls lifted her spirits and the city was bustling
and very Spanish. They had a long, cool drink in a café within a courtyard where the tinkling of water splashing from a stone
fountain had a soothing effect, a vivid contrast from the bustling street outside. There were flowers everywhere: bouganvillea,
trailing
wisteria, begonias, jasmine and Spanish moss hanging in misty shreds from the trees. The breeze rustled the fronds of the
palms and palmettos. She accompanied the others on a rather frenetic shopping spree, governed by the time. In the narrow streets
and alleys of the older part of the town she had bought a lace evening shawl, so fine it looked and felt like gossamer. It
had cost one hundred pesos, but the others assured her that had she bought it in one of the elegant shops the price would
have been treble. They catered for the tourists.

‘Where am I going to wear it?’ she wailed in mock despair.

‘Oh, I’m sure our Mr Barratt will find time to take you somewhere very chic!’ Anne teased.

She wore it on the first night ashore on Haiti. David was taking her to the Hotel Excelsior for dinner. He had hired a horse-drawn
cab, explaining that it was better to see and smell the sights and sounds of Haiti than from an enclosed taxi cab, whose owners
were notorious for their erratic driving.

She had glimpsed the white pavilions of the presidential palace as they had sailed past La Gonave Island, but was looking
forward to seeing them at close quarters. As they turned from the Rue Roux into Grande Rue, they entered the main stream of
traffic. Everything from limousines to donkey-carts passed them but she noticed, too, that there were many beggars and cripples
thronging the wide concourse.

They passed the Café Savoy-Vincent and at last pulled up outside the colonial, two-storeyed, white portals of the Hotel Excelsior.
David paid the driver and escorted
her along the pathway flanked by a riot of perfumed shrubs and flowers. The reception hall was magnificent, the floor of cool
green and white marble, the furniture copies of French Louis XIV. Flowers filled huge marble urns and palms were grouped together
in corners, providing secluded niches. The dining room was in true Creole style and David assured her that it was finer than
many he had seen in France. A Haitian orchestra sat on a raised dais flanked by palms and flowers. A handsome mulatto waiter
ushered them to their table.

The meal was unlike anything she had ever tasted: crayfish in wine sauce, turtle eggs, seafood in parcels of light, puff pastry;
mangos, breadfruit, papayas, all washed down with a heady wine, followed by a cocktail of white rum and fresh fruit juices.
When they had finished and the dishes had been removed and the coffee set before them, Cat’s mind went back to the Salle Jacques
Cartier dining room on the Empress. Now she felt like her passengers, surrounded by such luxury, cossetted, tempted with exotic
meals and wines. She fingered the solid silver coffee spoon. She wanted to stretch like a pampered cat, it was such sheer
bliss. She could quickly become accustomed to a life like this. Instead she sipped her coffee from the bone china cup.