We present an extract from A Maid on Fifth Avenue, the new book from acclaimed author Sinead Crowley - she talks to Miriam O'Callaghan above.
A Maid on Fifth Avenue is a dual time line mystery, telling the story of Annie, who emigrates from West Kerry to Manhattan in the 1920s and Emer, who returns home from LA a hundred years later.
In this extract Annie, who has never travelled further than Dingle in her life, is about to set sail...
John James talked all the way to Tralee, which at least kept Annie from fretting about the journey ahead of her but when he left her at the train station, dropping her suitcase beside her before driving away, talking to the horse now for entertainment, she stared after him as if her best friend in the world had just been snatched away. The train journey went in a blur, the unaccustomed speed of the engine leaving her too afraid even to look out the window and when she finally fell into an uneasy sleep she woke in Cobh with a cricked neck, a headache and overwhelming fear of being late for the boat. Neighbours had instructed her on the best place to hail a cab for the quayside and she followed their instructions so methodically it was not until she paid the driver and was finally looking up at the giant ship that the magnitude of what she was doing rushed over her and she sank down on her case before her legs could give way. What in God's name was she doing in Cobh, when she could barely remember it wasn’t called Queenstown any more? Who was she to think she could sail alone across the ocean? She, Annie Thornton, who had never been further from Dingle in her life?
And then a hand fell on her shoulder and Annie looked up to see an angel looming over her.
"Are you taking root there or what? Hurry now, or we won’t get a place at the railings."
Not an angel then, but a young woman with a strong west of Ireland accent and more self-possession than Annie had ever encountered in one person. Even in her travelling cloak and with soot streaked on one smooth cheek the woman was strikingly beautiful with strands of red hair escaping from a moss green hat sitting atop pale skin and sparkling green eyes. She reached out again and offered Annie her hand.
"Are you travelling alone too? Well, if we go together then neither of us will be alone, now will we?"
Unsure of how to answer, but with nothing better on offer Annie allowed the young woman to lead her over to the gangplank and up and onto the ship. Handwritten signs indicated the way to the cabins but the woman, who Annie could see now was only around her own age strode off in the opposite direction, leading her up a set of stairs and then out on deck.
The two women stood still for a moment, watching their fellow passengers swarm on board, the scene reminding Annie of how Seánie Lynch would move his cattle from the lower field to the upper after a heavy shower of rain. In fact she thought, if an official from the ship had appeared behind the crowd to poke the slower ones with a sharp stick she would not have been particularly surprised. Every sort of person emigrated to America, it appeared, whole families, the women carrying babies and men leading dazed looking children, as well as members of the gentry in long travelling cloaks who had porters to wheel their mountains of luggage on board behind them. There were other solo passengers too, of course, most of the women sobbing, the men aiming for studied nonchalance but Annie could see, even at this distance, how tightly their cases were grasped in their red scrubbed hands. Although Annie had lived beside the sea all of her life, she had never been on a boat larger than her uncle’s curach and the view of the quayside from here was so foreign, and the gentle movement of the huge vessel so alien she felt excitement bubble up inside her to counter the earlier apprehension. The ship’s horn sounded and the girl beside her took a white handkerchief from her pocket and began to wave. She looked across at Annie and winked.
"Come on! We’re on our way!
Despite her excitement Annie found fresh tears welling up in her eyes.
"I’ve no-one to wave at."
But the girl just shrugged and waved even harder.
"And what matter? Neither have I, but sure waving is half the fun. We’re going to America girl, and that lot back there are going nowhere!"
Her exuberance was so contagious that Annie found herself raising her arm and fluttering it shyly, but the other woman reached across and tugged on her sleeve.
"Come on, put a bit of effort into it. Like this, look!"
She threw back her head, and yelled.
"Bye! Bye – take care now – I love you!"
And the image of the young woman directing her affection towards a seagull flying overhead was so ridiculous that Annie couldn’t help but laugh, and then she too was screaming and waving and before she knew it she felt a jolt, and then a gliding motion and they had set sail.
A Maid on Fifth Avenue is published by
