For now, Casey spent more time at Ardara or at Maxwell Court with her sister-in-law, Jessie. Jamie was happy with this arrangement and followed his cousins around learning to hunt snarks. It was his favorite game and Casey didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.
She went to church a bit more often at first, admitting to Tom and Sam that it was a blatant attempt to get back into everyone’s good graces, but gradually, she went back to her regular schedule. Too many of the people at church were the same ones who had voted her out of the Society, and she wasn’t able to feel free about chatting with them.
As October moved through its days, Casey counted each one with trepidation, hoping the baby would wait to be born until after the Olympic’s launch. That would happen on the twentieth, and until then there were meetings and reports and lists and details that kept Tom at the yard until ten or eleven nearly every night. They joked that he would just come home one night and find another child in the nursery. But Casey did hope he would be able to be home for a while when the baby was born.
Normally, she and Sam would both have attended the launching, but her advanced pregnancy would keep her home. Although in their time, the Titanic was the most famous of the ships, the Olympic had really been the jewel of the trio. She was the first Olympic-class ship built, the first to sail, and the only one to serve for many years. Tom described her frequently. It was clear he was smitten with her. Her design had a leaner and more elegant appearance than older liners. He thought she was amazingly beautiful, even at this point, when she was just a shell.
“I know you’ve seen pictures of her complete,” he told them one Sunday afternoon as they rested in the garden. “But I have only our plans of what she’ll be like when she’s finished. We’re working on the fittings. The staircases will be grand, with detailed carvings. We’ll have wrought iron detailing in places, a glass dome, and artwork throughout. I can’t wait to have her finished.” He hugged Casey gently. “I hope you get to see her before her maiden voyage. I’ll take you on a private tour.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up at the thought and she teasingly leaned toward him. “If I get you alone on one of those ships, she may not be a maiden when she leaves.”
His hug tightened briefly as he laughed. “I can arrange that quite easily. I shall look forward to that tour, indeed.”
Launching Day dawned bright, cool and baby-less. Tom was at the yard by 5:00 a.m., seeing to the last-minute details for the 11:45 launching. Spectators began arriving by eight. There was no point in any department trying to get actual work done, although many people tried. Tom had not been happy about it, but the managing directors had decided not to pay workers for attending the launch of a ship unless they actually had duties to perform. All other employees were expected to continue working, but that was difficult with the public wandering in and out. They had to keep people safely away from work zones, one more detail to add to the other thousand things to deal with.
Tom had given Sam a ticket that placed him on one of the stands near the ship. He’d have a good view, and Tom hoped he enjoyed the spectacle. He knew that, for Sam and Casey, these ships represented something terrifying, and he really wanted to show them how wonderful they could be.
Indeed, Sam looked awed and happy as he stood with the crowd and watched as they knocked away the last of the boards, and released the hydraulic hold on the ship. Olympic floated backwards, silent and majestic. She settled in the water as the crowd erupted in cheers and applause, and out on the hills someone set off fireworks. Tom let his breath out in relief. She was on her way. There would be a celebratory lunch while a crew brought Olympic into the slip that would be her home for the next seven months for her fitting out. Then he had some time off.
Just in time to be a father again.
Theresa Diane Andrews was born bright and early on 23 October 1910, with the apparent goal of making her father smile. Casey said she looked like the grandmother she was named for, and it was certainly clear to everyone that she looked like her mother. Even Jamie was smitten with her, although he tried hard to remember she was supposed to be a pest. He had that on good authority from his cousins, but they had not warned him how much fun it would be to hear his sister laugh, something she did early and often.
Fitting out for the Olympic continued, and there were often sudden moments of wonder throughout the yard, as men paused to observe the beauty and craftsmanship that went into her. The ships they built were among the most beautiful in the world, as Lord Pirrie expected their liners to rival the grandest hotels. But they were doing more than ever with these ships, and it made them proud. Nearly every person in Belfast had something to do with building the ships, or had a close relative who did. Shipbuilder Magazine wrote about them in every issue. Harland & Wolff was on top of the world.
Chapter 33
January 1911
When Terry was about two months old, Casey began to chafe against her isolation. With the greenhouse, she always had plenty to do at Dunallon, and she had no intention of trying to get back into the Horticultural Society. But she and Penny had been used to frequent outings around Belfast, to the markets for just window shopping, or over to Susan Cummings’ house to let the children play together. Susan still welcomed her, but now William had to drive them over and pick them up. Casey wanted to walk again.
Tom gave it some thought when she asked him about it. “It’s been several months and you’ve two small children to care for, now. Sloan is ever suspicious of you, but I know he’s had nothing to complain about for a long time.”
He was quiet for a few minutes, staring into the library fire. Casey shifted next to him, restless. “Am I supposed to spend my entire life restricted like this?” she asked him. “It’s like house arrest, but without the judge and jury.”
He took her hand, shaking his head. “No. Uncle Will told Sloan that your mistakes were mostly due to being American. He told him that you have a hard time understanding the disagreements between the factions, and that you just misjudged what could be done. I don’t believe Sloan is convinced, but I think you have enough leeway to get back out there, take your walks, shop, visit friends. Just please, stay away from Catholic churches?” He smiled to take the sting from his words and she put herself in his arms, hugging him gently.
“I will never take the children anywhere it might be dangerous. And I’m never going out alone, again.”
So she and Penny began a daily routine of a late morning walk, Terry in her pram and Jamie traipsing along with them. Sometimes they walked to town for shopping, sometimes they walked through the university or the Botanic Garden, although Casey avoided the Palm House. She had stared at it for several minutes their first day out, as Jamie begged to see it.
She turned to Penny. “I can’t,” she said, swallowing hard. “I want to go, but I can’t.”
Penny placed a comforting hand on Casey’s arm. “It’s all right, Mistress. You’ll get back there someday, I’m sure of it.”
Casey nodded, her lips in a thin, tight line. “Yes. Someday. I’ll insist on it.”
Casey had noticed a beautiful red tablecloth in the window at Robinson’s, so on their next walk, she and Penny went shopping. They bundled Jamie in his coat and wrapped Terry snuggly in her soft wool cap and sweater, lovingly knitted by her grandmother. They would shop, walk around a bit, and if the children were peaceful, have lunch before coming home.