Rain came in the night. Waking from a restless sleep, Rose heard it drumming on the windows. Next morning when she knelt to stir the fire, the room was as dim as many a winter’s morn. The downpour eased as John left for work at the usual time and stopped altogether just before the children left for school. She looked out on the sodden garden and the deep puddle at the entrance to the forge. The heavy grey cloud hung overhead like a pall which the days news would do nothing to lift.

The children arrived back half an hour later. There was no school. The master had lost his sister-in-law with her two children and a little niece who’d come to stay especially for the excursion. His young assistant had been at the schoolroom to send the children home. She told them one of their classmates, little Edith Kane from Ballybrannan had lost an arm and was very poorly. They were to be sure to remember her in their prayers.

Rose listened with a sinking heart, knowing that it would be days before the bad news could come to an end. Between the newspapers and the forge, there’d be no avoiding every scrap of information that each new day would bring.

She set about her immediate task of occupying the children so she’d be free to go down to Wylie’s to see Billy and Peggy and offer to look after little Ned and Peggy’s baby while they made arrangements for the funeral.

‘Sam and I could go and give a hand at Robinson’s,’ said James helpfully.

‘What would you do?’ she replied doubtfully.

‘There’s always work,’ James assured her. ‘They might be eyeing potatoes for the next plantin’, or cleanin’ out the byre or the stables. They do that on bad days,’ he explained.

She agreed gratefully, knowing that Hannah and Sarah would be quite happy to stay indoors and read. It was always the boys who got restless on wet days when there was no school.

She had just finished baking the day’s bread and was tidying herself for going down to Annacramp, when John himself arrived back home. So few spinners had reported for work, the mill had been forced to close and would not re-open until all the funerals were over. The morning newspaper put the death toll at sixty-seven, but the number of seriously injured was high. The hospital was full, it said, and some badly injured people were being cared for at home. One Armagh doctor had 102 of his patients on the injured list. But what was emerging was that people had not only come from a radius of three or four miles around the city, but also from much further afield, as far away as Moy and Caledon and Clones.

‘When ye get as far as the mill, ye can hear the bells o’ the cathedral tolling. It’s a powerful mournful sound,’ John told her. ‘An’ I diden see a face since I left home that would know the remembrance of a smile.’

‘Will you come with me to Annacramp?’ she asked.

For a moment, he said nothing and looked out across at the forge, as if he’d just come over to speak to her and needed to get back to the job right away.

‘I will if ye ask me,’ he said honestly.

‘I won’t ask you, John,’ she said shaking her head. ‘There’s little enough I can do for Billy and Peggy. I doubt if your going would help all that much and I know it would be hard on you. There’s maybe things I’ll have to ask you to do later on.’

He nodded, his relief obvious.

‘I can get in the water and dig the spuds for the dinner,’ he said quickly. ‘Is there anything else I can do? I thought I might give Thomas a bit of a hand. It’s too wet for the garden.’

She nodded, touched by his willingness to help and his inability to face the grief he would meet at Annacramp. Like the boys, he needed to occupy himself.

‘That’s a good idea. Thomas’ll not have had much comfort last night. I’d be glad to see you out there with him,’ she said quietly. ‘Sarah’s got her book and Hannah’s going to do some of my sewing for me,’ she said, dropping her voice even lower and nodding across to the settle where the two girls were already absorbed. ‘If I’m not back by twelve, make them a piece, but I should be and I may have Ned and the baby with me.’

‘Whatever ye think best, love. I’ll do what I can.’

He sat down abruptly in a chair at the kitchen table as if the effort of talk had exhausted him. She came and touched his cheek.

‘It’ll pass, love. However long it takes, it’ll pass.’

‘Aye, your mother used to say that, diden she?’ he said looking up at her. ‘Whenever things was bad?’

‘She did. And strange enough your mother use to say it too, though in a different way. ‘All things pass, Rose, both pleasant and unpleasant. Those were her words.’

‘D’ye know, I think I mind that from those old copy books we had at school. Maybe that’s where they both got it from,’ he said, looking pleased with himself.

She saw the hint of a smile touch his lips and was grateful. Maybe it was harder for men. They couldn’t face the grief of others and they didn’t know what to do with their own.

‘Did ye tell Lady Anne ye were goin’ on the excursion?’ he said unexpectedly.

‘What made you think of that?’ she asked, startled.

‘Ach, mentioning yer mother I somehow thought of her. Did ye tell her?’

‘Yes, I’m sure I did. It’s a while since I wrote, but I’m sure I did.’

‘She’ll be desperate upset if she reads about what happened in the newspaper.’

‘I never thought of that. D’you think it would be in the Dublin papers?’

‘Och yes, and the English ones too. Sure all the newspaper offices has the telegraph.’

‘I could write her a note,’ she said distractedly, already wondering about her sister in Donegal and her brother in Scotland.

‘I think you should, love. Write it when you come back and I’ll go into the Post Office in Armagh. She’ll have it in the mornin’.’

Rose’s visit to Annacramp was not as hard as she’d expected. The farm house was full and little Ned had half a dozen women and girls fussing over him. Billy had gone up to the churchyard to show the gravediggers where the unmarked family grave was to be opened. Peggy was dry-eyed and steady.

‘I knew yesterday that Mary was gone,’ she said quietly, when they walked out into the damp lane behind the house to have a moment alone together. ‘You were very honest, Rose, an’ I’m grateful. If I hadn’t known to expect the worst, I couldn’t have coped as well when Billy came back.’

She turned to face her.

‘He and the Gibson’s had just found one of the Gibson girls when Thomas came up to him. He said last night he thought Thomas was going to collapse, he was that distraught, when he had to tell him he’d found Mary. That was before one of the nurses found wee Ned.’

‘Was he really in a briar bush?’

‘He was. Right in the middle. And not a scratch on his face, though his arms and legs are covered,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He’s not four yet, Rose, do you think he’ll remember?’

‘He might remember indeed, but if he has all the comfort he’s having now, it may take away the hurt,’ she said, thinking of Sarah and the length of her memory. ‘But it’s harder to do that for Billy,’ she said, looking at her friend with concern.

‘He surprised me last night, Rose. I thought he would be absolutely helpless, if he lost Mary, but when he came back with wee Ned and told me about her and the boys, he said “We’re both in the same boat now, Peggy. We’ll have to do what we can for these two wee’uns, Kevin’s son and Mary’s son.” Oh, he cried. Sure we both did. We cried till our eyes were sore, but then he said to me. “Go to your bed, Peggy. We’ll need our strength for the morra.” An’ he’s away up to the churchyard, quite composed. Three o’clock tomorrow, Rose.’

She nodded, not trusting herself to say the simple words that she and John would be there. Billy might be acting bravely for his part, but she was not sure how she herself would feel seeing the one large and two small coffins going into a wide grave and one of them her dearest friend.

‘Is Davey all right?’ she asked suddenly, as she remembered his face at the carriage window when he came past locking the doors.

‘Yes, thank God. He was in the Guard’s van of the 10.35, but the driver managed to get the train stopped. Oh, it didn’t prevent the accident, but there were sixteen people stepped out safely and they were the first to help. Davey says there were a couple of very fashionable ladies with big hats and feathers in one of the coaches. They just took off their finery and left it in a pile and went up the track to help. There was a doctor and a minister too, he says. He came down this mornin’ before he went to work. He’s very bright, full of talk,’ she said, shaking her head dubiously. ‘But he’s not injured in any physical way.’

‘Did he tell you he was the one locked the doors?’ Rose asked quietly.

‘No, he never mentioned that. Was all the doors locked?’

‘Most of them,’ she said, nodding.

‘We heard last night the Constabulary had arrested the men from the G. N. R, the driver and the supervisor and two others. They wouldn’t come after Davey, would they?’ she asked, suddenly alarmed.

Rose shook her head firmly.

‘No, Peggy. Davey was only acting on orders. It wasn’t his fault. But it may suddenly come to him that it was. That’s why I’m telling you.’

‘Thank you, Rose. You’ve been such a good friend to me,’ she said, tears springing to her eyes. ‘An’ I used to think it was just because I was Mary’s sister.’

‘Not a bit of it, Peggy. Not a bit of it,’ she said, slipping her arm round her waist as they turned back to the house, gathering themselves for whatever awaited them.

‘Sit down an’ rest yerself,’ said John, as he followed her back into the house. ‘You’re lookin’ desperit pale. Sit there and Hannah an’ me’ll make us a bite,’ he said, putting the kettle down.

Hannah wrapped up her sewing and began fetching cups and plates from the dresser.

‘Is Ned all right?’ Sarah asked sharply.

‘Yes, he’s fine, Sarah. He’s got some scratches.’

‘Why did Auntie Mary throw him into a bush?’

‘Because she couldn’t jump out like we did. Their doors were locked.’

‘Why were they locked?’

‘In case children might fall out?’

‘Did Auntie Mary know they were going to crash?’

‘Yes, she did.’

‘Why didn’t she throw Jacob and William out as well?

‘They were too big to throw through the window?’

‘Why …’

‘Sarah, your Ma is tired out. That’s enough of questions,’ said John firmly, as he cut slices of wheaten bread and put them on a plate. ‘Now come to the table and have some bread and jam. Will I butter it for you?’

‘I can butter my own bread,’ she said abruptly.

‘Thank you,’ prompted Rose automatically.

The ‘thank you’ was dutifull but sulky.

‘I think maybe we’ll all have a little rest after our lunch,’ she added, looking from Hannah to Sarah.

‘I don’t need a rest,’ said Sarah, crossly.

‘But I do, Sarah. I’d like you both to keep me company.’

To her surprise she fell asleep as soon as she lay down on the bed, though she’d only intended a pretence until Sarah was asleep. It was always a bad sign when she kept asking questions and was irritable. She was still over-tired after yesterday’s walk, never mind all that she’d seen and heard. Unlike Hannah who was happy to sit and sew and became totally absorbed in what she was doing, Sarah’s active mind never seemed to stop. She was always telling stories, asking questions, thinking things out and puzzling her head to make sense of whatever came within her experience.

Rose slipped quietly off the bed. She was fast asleep, clutching Ganny, Hannah asleep beside her. She moved quietly out into the kitchen. John had cleared up the remains of their meal. Everything was tidy, except for a small scatter of crumbs on the floor. She wondered why it was that men never seemed to notice such things.

She went to the window and saw that it had been raining again. The hollow at the door of the forge, swept dry when she came back from Annacramp, had a small, new puddle. John and Thomas were bending over a reaper, testing the raising and lowering mechanism. Suddenly lonely, she walked out to speak to them.

‘Ach Rose, how are ye?’ said Thomas kindly. ‘I hear you were down at Annacramp. I must go down m’self the night,’ he said, looking no easier at the prospect than John looked earlier in the day.

She told him what she could to reassure him and was pleased when she saw relief dawn as she quoted Billy’s words to Peggy.

‘Sure maybe the pair o’ them’ll make a family of it in time,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I’ve seen it afore. Sure haven’t they both been hurt an’ will understan’ one another.’

She nodded, surprised that Thomas had spoken with such insight, though the same thought had come to her when she walked with Peggy in the lane.

‘Well, what news this morning?’ she said, looking from one to another. ‘I didn’t ask John in front of the girls,’ she said, glancing up at Thomas, who was leaning against the seat of the reaper.

‘All bad, so far,’ said Thomas. ‘Five more has died overnight. An’ there’s two wee lassies among the dead you’ll know. Minnie and Elizabeth Rountree. They’ll be burying them tomorrow as well. An’ wee Mina Reilly. Do you know her? Works in the stationers in Scotch Street.’

‘Yes, I buy writing paper there,’ she replied, nodding sadly. ‘Minnie and Elizabeth are apprentices at the dressmakers in Thomas Street. I used to meet them walking home if I went in on their half day. We always talked fashion and dresses though we all had to make our own,’ she said shaking her head.

They stood silent for a moment, John crouched down, plucking a stray piece of grass from between the teeth of the newly reset reaper, Thomas staring at the lever mechanism. A soft footstep behind them made them all turn round sharply. George Robinson, in large Wellington boots came striding towards them, carrying a crowbar. He tipped his cap to Rose and nodded to both men.

‘Jimmy forgot this one this mornin’ when he brought the rest back, Thomas,’ he said, leaning the heavy bar against the reaper. D’ye’s know John Hughes?’ he went on without a pause.

‘Aye, of course we do. Sure he delivers for Turners. Don’t tell me he was on the train?’ said Thomas, looking at George in disbelief.

‘No, he woren’t. He said he was far too old for such capers, but he let the three children go with some neighbour, for half the street was goin’. When he heard the news, he away out with the cart to look for them an’ give a hand. It seems he took one look at the train and the carriages an’ dropped down dead. An’ the worst of it is the three childer were away up at the front beyond where they divid the train an’ they were all safe and sound.’

‘That’s another one,’ said John sadly. ‘That’s seventy-three now.’

‘Yer none the worse, Rose?’ George asked, awkwardly, looking down at her. ‘What about the wee ones?’

‘I’m all right thank you, George. And the children are as right as any of us are. I’m a bit concerned about Sarah, but sure she’s alive and not hurt. I hope the boys aren’t in your way?’ she said apologetically.

‘Not a bit, not a bit. They’re always ready to tackle things. T’ tell you the truth they’re company for my boys, for they’re all through themselves, them an’ their wives. Sure they’re like childer themselves today they’re that upset. Maggie said to tell you the boys are welcome any day till the school starts, she’s glad of them for a bit of distraction. She says she can’t face any of the funerals, so she’ll be at home, if you want to send the wee girls over to her when you go.’

Rose smiled her thanks, touched by the sudden thoughtfulness of a woman not normally very aware of the concerns of others.

‘I’m very grateful, George. We must go to the Wylies and the Rountrees and …’

‘Rose, have ye forgot that letter ye were to write?’ John said quietly.

Rose gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

‘I keep forgetting things,’ she said.

‘Sure we’re all distracted,’ said Thomas, ‘but if ye want to catch the post, John wou’d need to be on his way soon.’

Hastily, she sat down at the table and wrote three short notes, to Lady Anne, her sister Mary and her brother in Scotland. It still seemed so strange they might have heard of what had happened already and them so far away, but she knew John was right. The world had changed since the coming of the telegraph, and even the post from America now only took eight or nine days.

‘I’m sorry to give you the walk, love,’ she said as she handed him the envelopes.

‘Ach it’s no bother. I’m better kept busy. Is there anything ye need from town?’

‘No, we’re all right for groceries, I went in on Tuesday, so I could buy a few wee treats for Wednesday,’ she said wryly.

‘I’ll not be long. I’ll maybe get the evenin’ paper,’ he said casually as he looked up at the threatening sky and put the letters under his jacket.

John was soaked when he got back a couple of hours later. He had an ashen look about him as he opened the door that brought the old anxiety leaping into Rose’s chest.

‘The rain caught me just past the pump,’ he said, peeling off his saturated jacket. ‘I coud a’ stood in, but I knew it was near supper time. An’ a wanted to get home,’ he said, his voice strong, his liveliness somewhat forced.

She relaxed as she saw him dry his hair on the towel Hannah brought him.

‘Wou’d I need to change the trousers?’ he said, tentatively. ‘There’s no cold in that rain, but it was right heavy.’

Rose nodded, relieved that he sounded so much better than he looked. She saw him slip the folded newspaper from under his jacket into the embrasure of the window as he passed into the bedroom. She went on peeling potatoes and watched him as he came back into the kitchen, sat down by the fire and asked the girls did they have a good sleep.

‘I had a dream,’ said Sarah, whose dreams were famous for their complexity and the zest with which she told them.

John just nodded. She wasn’t surprised that he didn’t encourage her to tell her dream just at the moment.

‘What about you, Hannah?’

‘I’ve nearly finished my first whole dress,’ she said, her face beaming. ‘Ma’s says I can cut out the next one by myself,’ she went on proudly.

‘Ach that’s great, just great,’ he said with as much enthusiasm as he could manage.

He was about to say more when the door opened and the boys arrived, gasping for breath, each holding a potato sack over their heads.

‘Did you get caught too?’ he asked, as Rose inspected them.

‘No,’ said James. ‘We were waitin’ for it to stop, but it showed no signs of it, so George got us the sacks. We knew it was near teatime,’ he said, ‘and Ma’d be lookin’ for us.’

‘I was indeed,’ she said. ‘Did you have a busy day?’

‘Aye. Young George was mendin’ a harness an’ we helped him,’ said Sam, enthusiastically. ‘An’ he explained the way it all worked. An’ then we explained to him about engines and vacuum brakes. He’d no idea there was only one brake at the front and one on the guard’s van an’ that once the vacuum was broke, there was only the guard’s brake left.’

Rose cast a quick glance at Sarah, saw she was listening and looked across at John.

‘What kinda harness does George use?’ he asked, picking up her hint. ‘There’s a new lighter harness these days a lot of farmers have. Some say it’s not so good. What does young George think?’

Rose put the potatoes to boil, began chopping vegetables and wondered how she could manage to get through the remaining hours of this endless day. Despite her rest, she felt exhausted, every task a huge effort, even peeling potatoes. It felt as if she were cutting out a new pattern for the first time.

After the meal, John read the children the story in the weekly magazine and she was able to look discreetly at the paper he’d brought. There were long lists of the dead but fortunately there were no new names since the morning. What was strange, however, was that the list was much shorter than the numbers everyone in Armagh knew about. But what did upset her was the way the paper indicated that many of the seriously injured were unlikely to live. As if the poor relatives haven’t enough heartache without the newspapers adding to it, she thought as she turned the pages quietly.

Some eye-witness observers were saying there’d been twelve hundred or more on the train and that the engine was a poor choice, even for the nine hundred that had been expected. It also seemed there were numbers of people travelling illegally, eight soldiers and two civilians in the front brake van and fifteen people in the luggage compartment and rear guard’s van.

There was also speculation as to what would happen to the officials who had been arrested by the constabulary the previous afternoon, growing concern the hospital wasn’t big enough to cope with even the seriously injured and a report that a party of Red Cross nurses had arrived from Dublin to assist Dr Palmer and his staff.

There were also enormous lists of family notices for funerals on Friday and Saturday.

Rose refolded the paper carefully. It made very unhappy reading, but it brought no new shocks. That was about as much good news as they could hope for till the next week had passed.

Rose sent the boys to bed as early as she could, expecting that she and John would not be far behind. They sat gazing into the fire, the quiet and the warmth a comfort on the bleak, grey evening.

‘Have you looked at the paper?’ she said as she got up and made them their usual late cup of tea.

‘Aye, I had a look in Armagh. I stood in out of the rain in McCann’s doorway,’ he said, a catch in his voice that made her turn quickly, the tea caddy in her hand.

‘Ye wouden know Armagh, Rose,’ he said cautiously. ‘Ivery house has the blinds drawn. Ivery shop is shut with a notice on the door as to who they’ve lost. Sure, I saw three coffins comin’ down Banbrook Hill while I was standin’ at McCann’s and the whole street out behind them walkin’ up to the new cathedral. An’ at the same time one comin’ along Railway Street headin’ for St Marks. Sure, it woud a broke yer heart to see it.’

‘John, I’m sorry,’ she said sadly. ‘The letters could have waited. I shouldn’t have let you go into town.’

‘Ach, no. It wasn’t the letters. To tell you the truth, I wanted to go up to the hospital and ask for news.’

‘Did you, love?’ she asked quietly, wondering what it was he hadn’t told her.

‘Aye. That wee lassie, Elizabeth Kane. Sure she’s as like our Sarah as if they were sisters. The wee dark, bright eyes of her,’ he said, looking into the fire. ‘I was at school with her father an’ we were great pals at one time. I hadn’t seen him for months. But I saw him yesterday. An’ I couden get him out o’ me mind, standin’ there with a nurse that was binding up the shoulder where her wee arm shoulda been.’

‘And did you get any news?’

‘Aye. She’s no worse. There’s still hope,’ he said quickly. ‘It was one of those Red Cross nurses I spoke to,’ he explained. ‘They take it in turns to come and talk to the people waiting outside. There’s a whole crowd of them for they’ve no room to let them in, there’s that many. And she said she’d tell us a wee story to give us heart,’ he said, with a flicker of a smile on his face.

‘She says they have a wee child that’s doing well, but they were concerned it had something wrong with its hand. It was all screwed up,’ he said, tightening his own hand into a fist. ‘They tried and tried to get her to open her hand, but finally she tells one of them she has three pennies in her hand. “It’s for excursion,” says she, ‘an’ I mustn’t let it go.’ And the wee thing had them held in her hand since yesterday mornin.’ But the nurse says she’ll be all right, thank God,’ he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

She gave him his tea and they sat together on the settle drinking it.

‘I think today has been worse for me than yesterday,’ she said honestly, ‘but you’ve had two bad days. And it’ll not get better for a while.’

‘No, it won’t, but we’re maybe through the worst,’ he said, taking her free hand. ‘We’ll maybe have to remember the copy book.’

‘What copy book?’ she asked, completely baffled.

‘The one our mother’s used to quote, about time passing. I’m that tired, I can’t mind it now.’

‘All things pass, both pleasant and unpleasant,’ she said, her voice thin with exhaustion.

‘Aye, that’s it. All things pass,’ he said. ‘Even this,’ he added, putting down his empty mug and drawing her to her feet. ‘Come on now, you should be in your bed,’ he said gently, his arm close round her, as if he were coaxing a weary child.