Later that night...

As I climbed the stairs to my attic room that night, I still had the remains of a smile playin' across my face. I hadn't been able to wipe it off all day. I had long since chalked my Aunt Margaret's behavior up to her finally growin' a heart, and the more suspicious aspects of her speech that afternoon had faded from my mind. I was fully ready to embark on the journey of a lifetime!

When I had told the other girls earlier that day, they had been ecstatic.

"We're going? On Titanic? Really?!" Niamh had squealed and began leapin' up and down.

Saoirse laughed and looked at me with wonder in her eyes. "You're going to see your mum. How long has it been, now? You've been here longer than I have..."

"Thirteen years," I answered her. "Thirteen years livin' with my Aunt while my ma and brothers worked in America. Somehow, they never managed to get up the money for another fare for me to come an' join them... I was six when I came here and couldn't work, least not in a factory or somethin' to earn me a wage, so I reckon they decided that there was really no point in bringin' me… I'd only have been a burden."

My slightly sullen tone had caused Niamh's smile to slowly fade, but I shook my head at her. "Don't even think on it, lass. What matters now is that we're goin' to America!"

"On the grandest ship in the world." Saoirse winked, and Niamh engulfed me in a hug.

Now, as I climbed the creaky old stairs and pushed open the door to my little room, I could still see the look on Saoirse's face. She'd looked happy for us, yes, but there was somethin' else in her eyes.

I felt more guilty than I had all day, knowin' that I was goin' instead of her, and knowin' that she knew it too. She was my closest mate, along with Niamh, and they were all that had gotten me through the hard times. A strange sense of sadness swept over me as I put on my nightclothes in the dark. Was I actually feeling sorry about leavin'? Or just sorry that I was leavin' my friends behind? Niamh, after all, would be returnin' with my Aunt back to England. I'd have to bid her goodbye, as well.

I laid down on my bed and pulled the heavy quilt up over my body. After turnin' on the oil lamp on my bedside table, I reached for the top book in a stack of them which laid next to the lamp: Snow White. At nineteen, I was a bit old for faerie stories, but just as Shakespeare captivated Niamh's mind, old faerie stories of mystical lands and magical happenings captivated mine.

I fell asleep that night whilst readin'. "You, my queen, are fair; it is true. But the young queen is a thousand times fairer than you..."

"Evie... Evie! Wake up... Evie..."

"Wha!" I sat bolt upright in my bed, sendin' the book that had fallen onto my chest flyin' towards my feet. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness; the lamp had long since gone out. To my surprise, when I was able to see, I saw Niamh sitting on the edge of my bed, her blonde hair falling down her shoulders in loose curls, clutching her robe tight against her.

"Sorry, Evie..." She apologized, lookin' at me with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to scare ya..."

"Is the house on fire 'er somethin'?" I asked, reachin' down to collect me book and set it lightly in its rightful place at me bedside table.

"No, no, nothing like that. I jus' wanted to talk, is all."

"Oh," I sighed, rubbin' the sleep out of my eyes. I glanced around the room and saw no trace of light comin' from the round window facing east, indicatin' that dawn had not yet broken.

"It's still night, Evie," Niamh assured me. "I just wanted to talk to you about the crossing to America..."

When she hesitated, I urged her to go on. She seemed ashamed, or afraid of continuin' with her thoughts.

"Go on, Niamh. Are ye nervous or somethin'?"

"Hardly," she chuckled, avertin' her eyes from me. "I... I just... wanted to tell ya somethin', since I'm goin', n' so're you..."

"Well, go on then. Tell me somethin'."

She took a deep breath, and then looked at me with those two big blue eyes again, before whisperin', "I... Well, see, I was thinkin'..."

"Fer Christ's sake, Niamh," I said, rubbin' my eyes. "Tell me already, lass. It's the middle o' the night..."

She finally blurted. "I don't expect I'll be comin' back."

In my hazy, tired frame of mind, it took a moment for those words to reach my brain. I screwed up my face, and asked, "What're you on about?"

"I mean not to return to South Hampton, Evie. Not to England at all."

We sat in silence as the weight of her words settled in.

"Yer plannin' to stay in America?"

"That's what I said." She nodded surely, but her eyes told me otherwise. She was lookin' for somethin' from me. Approval.

I blinked, and looked down at the quilt on my bed. So this is the reason she was so happy today. She's not comin' back to work fer Aunt Margaret.

"D'ya think it's a good idea, Evie?" she asked me, breakin' the silence that had befallen us.

"Well," I began to say, choosing my words carefully. "I reckon so... How much have ye thought this over, really? It's not gonna be easy, startin' over in a new place. From the letters my Ma's sent me over the years, it's bloody hard, Niamh."

"But she's stayed there. There must be a reason..."

"There was nothin' to go back to, dear." I gently reminded her. "After my Da died, Ma and us kids, we were left with nothin'. That's when my brother Desmond got up the idea of goin' to America, the Land of Opportunity he called it."

"It is. It will be..."

I bit my lip, and slowly shook my head. "They never sent for me. There has to be a reason. Ma said once in her letters that 'There's no luck fer the O'Malley's, not here in America nor in Ireland.' Money was scarce..."

I looked up to see Niamh lookin' terribly defeated. Frownin', I patted her hand gently.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm just tellin' ya so ye can make a good decision, that's all." I looked down and thought hard for a moment. "Niamh, I say if ye believe you can make it on yer own, ye should do it. It ain't gonna be easy, but... yer not an O'Malley. Maybe you'll have better luck."

"Luck o' the Irish, eah?" she gave me a small, unsure smile.

I grinned back at her. "That's the spirit!"

Her smile grew, and she nodded empathetically. "We will... Ye think I can do it, Evie?"

I took a deep breath, before noddin'. "Yes, mate. I think ye can. They say anything's possible in America, after all."

"In the land of opportunity," she reminded me with a smile.

"Aye. Think 'a that! The two of us, startin' over anew in America of all places. It'll be grand, it really will."

She quickly leant over and hugged me; I never knew a person could smile so wide. "I'm glad ya think that, Evie girl, I really am. I know I can learn to stand on my own two feet, and be free from being someone's servant, someone's housemaid. Oh, I'm so excited!"

"Well doesn't that just beat all!" I laughed, huggin' her back tightly before we broke apart. She stood, the grin still spread across her face, and headed for the door.

She stopped with her hand on the knob and looked back at me. "Think of it, Evie. In just a few days, we'll be free as birds."

I grinned and nodded at her, and watched as she left the room and headed back downstairs. "Free as birds... and with my family. Aye, that'll be good." I muttered to myself before I laid back down, snuggled in the warmth of my comfy bed and closed my eyes again.