access for passengers in the adjoining room.
Eilis put one of her suitcases on the rack provided, placing the other against the wall. She wondered if she should change her clothes or what she should do between now and the evening meal that would be served to third-class passengers once the boat had set sail. Rose had packed two books for her, but she saw that the light was too weak for her to read. She lay down on the bed and put her hands behind her head, glad that the first part of the journey was over and there was still a week left without anything to do before she arrived. If only the rest of it could be as easy as this!
One thing that Jack had said remained with her because it was unlike him to be so vehement about anything. His saying that at the beginning he would have done anything to go home was strange. He had said nothing about this in his letters. It struck her that he might have told no one, not even his brothers, how he felt, and she thought how lonely that might have been for him. Maybe, she thought, all three of her brothers went through the same things and helped each other, sensing the feeling of homesickness when it arose in one of the others. If it happened to her, she realized, she would be alone, so she hoped that she would be ready for whatever was going to happen to her, however she was going to feel, when she arrived in Brooklyn.
Suddenly, the door opened and a woman came in, pulling a large trunk behind her. She ignored Eilis, who stood up immediately and asked her if she needed help. The woman dragged the trunk into the tiny berth and tried to close the door behind her but there was not enough space.
“This is hell,” she said in an English accent as she now attempted to stand the trunk on its side. Having succeeded, she stood in the space between the bunk beds and the wall beside Eilis. There was barely room for the two of them. Eilis saw that the upturned trunk was almost blocking the door.
“You’re on the top bunk. Number one means bottom bunk and that’s on my ticket,” the woman said. “So move. My name is Georgina.”
Eilis did not check her own ticket but instead introduced herself.
“This is the smallest room,” Georgina said, “you couldn’t keep a cat in here, let alone swing one.”
Eilis had to stop herself from laughing, and she wished Rose were close by so she could tell her that she was on the verge of asking Georgina if she were going all the way to New York or if she planned to get off somewhere on the journey.
“I need a fag but they won’t let us smoke down here,” Georgina said.
Eilis began to climb up the little ladder to the top bunk.
“Never again,” Georgina said. “Never again.”
Eilis could not resist. “Never again such a big trunk or never again going to America?”
“Never again in third class. Never again the trunk. Never again going home to Liverpool. Just never again. Does that answer your question?”
“But you like the bottom bunk?” Eilis asked.
“Yes, I do. Now, you’re Irish so come and have a cigarette with me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t smoke.”
“Just my luck. No bad habits.”
Georgina slowly made her way out of the room by edging around the trunk.
Later, when the engine of the ship, which seemed remarkably close to their berth, began to fire up and a large hooting whistle started to blow at regular intervals, Georgina returned to the room to fetch her coat and, having brushed her hair in the bathroom, invited Eilis to come on deck with her and see the lights of Liverpool as they departed.
“We could meet someone we like,” she said, “who could invite us to the first-class lounge.”
Eilis found her coat and scarf and followed her, inching with difficulty past the trunk. She could not understand how Georgina had managed to get it down the stairs. It was only when they were standing on deck in the dwindling evening light that she was able to get a good look at the woman with whom she was sharing the berth. Georgina, she thought, was anything between thirty and forty, although she could have been more. Her hair was a bright blond, and her hairstyle was like a film star’s. She moved with confidence, and when she lit