That night I fell into a deep sleep. My dreams were filled with gushing, freezing water and drowning people trying to pull me under. Their faces were skeletons and they moaned and clutched at me with bony fingers. I woke up terrified and drenched with sweat. It took me a while to realize where I was, and when I did my fear overwhelmed me. I prayed to God to spare me on this journey and let me arrive safely in Ireland.

I ate only lunch in the dining room, taking my breakfasts and dinners in my cabin. After lunch I took a walk around the deck for some air and a bit of exercise. When young men smiled at me, I looked away and pretended I hadn’t seen them. They probably thought I was a stuck-up bitch, but I didn’t care.

One afternoon I went down to the third-class deck. I couldn’t tell you why I went, but something seemed to be pulling me down there. As I walked through the near-empty General Room, I fancied I heard the music and laughter of the young ones and saw myself in the middle of them, dancing and flirting. They were ghosts now. I heard their screams again as they jumped off the deck into the dark water. The Ship of Hope had turned into the Ship of Despair. I spun around and fled back up the stairs.

* * *

When we finally docked at Queenstown, I was first in line to get off the ship. I couldn’t wait to set my feet on solid ground. When I did I made the sign of the cross and vowed there and then never to set foot on a ship again. I picked up my bag and made my way to the station to begin the train journey to Donegal. I settled on a bench to wait. As I sat shivering in the February cold, I was struck by how quiet the station was. The faint smell of manure and turf wafted around me, bringing old memories with it. Even the people looked different—Irish faces and Irish accents. I was home. The crowds grew as more passengers arrived. When the train steamed into the station there was a mad dash for the third-class compartments.

On the spur of the moment I bought a first-class ticket using some of the money Ben had given me. I knew rightly it was a rash thing to do, but I didn’t do it to show off. Instead, I did it in honor of Mrs. Shaw, the woman who’d been so good to me. In a first-class carriage I’d have the peace to think back over all that she’d taught me and feel for one last time the comfort of her love.