Free Shipbuilder by Marlene Dotterer Page B

Pirrie–he’s Chairman of the company––tolerates 'em in the interest of worker contentment. So Mr. Andrews tolerates 'em, too. He shows up once in a while to keep a gauge on the temper of the men. If there's going to be trouble in the yard, it usually starts there." He tilted his head, blinking owlishly at her. "Mr. Andrews would also never tell ye that ye couldn't attend the meetings if ye wanted to. But he'll be happy to know ye don't want trouble."
    Casey shrugged. "We'll never be perfect in America, but I'm more used to religious differences being under the radar. I think it's such a waste to spend time fighting with each other over it."
    Ham stopped, his look puzzled. "Under the radar? What are ye on about?"
    "Oh." Casey bit her lip. Idiot! Radar hasn't even been invented yet! "Just something a friend used to say. It means underneath the surface; can't be seen."
    He accepted the explanation, but she saw him mouthing the words "under the radar" as he led her to the next department.
    ~~~
    Sloan extended his invitation twice more over the next week, whenever Casey showed up when work was at a moderate pace. Both times, she managed an evasive "no thanks." Nervous about the temper of Belfast during this time, Casey wanted to discuss it with Sam, but his illness was worse and she didn't want to worry him. So she was left to deal with it herself, and she was pretty sure that her final solution, later in the week, was not well thought out.
    The horn for lunch had rung as Casey finished following Tom Andrews and Ham around on a ship called Adriatic , while a Board of Trade inspector conducted a review. The inspector had just left, and they ran into Sloan as they descended the gangplank.
    “Afternoon.” Sloan was courteous as he tipped his hat to Tom. “Have time to drop into our meetin’, Sir?”
    “Ach, not this time, Mike.” Tom seemed truly sorry. “Ham and I are having a working lunch, as it is.”
    Sloan nodded, apparently unconcerned, and glanced at Casey. “Be nice if you could attend, Casey. Men would like to know you better.”
    The presence of Tom Andrews made her reckless. “I’d like to know everyone better, Mr. Sloan,” she said. “But see, even though I’m Protestant, I’m an atheist, and your religious meeting just doesn’t seem like an appealing way to spend the lunch break.”
    They all stared at her. Oops, she thought in sudden despair. Can I get fired for being an atheist? Appalled at her own words, she glanced guiltily at her boss. He looked just as shocked as Ham and Sloan, but something in her expression made him grin, and he slapped Sloan on the shoulder.
    “Give him a break, Mike. You know how Americans are about religion.”
    “Well…” Sloan looked confused but Casey could tell he didn’t want Tom to see that. “I’ve heard things, Sir, but…”
    “Ah, but I’ve talked to many Americans on my trips, Mike.” Tom was reasonableness personified. “Trust me, they’re good, religious people. They just approach it differently from us.”
    Sloan nodded, still doubtful, but he tipped his hat again, this time to Casey. “If ye change your mind, lad, ye know where we meet. We’ll keep ye in our prayers.”
    He left and Tom turned to Casey. “Can you type those notes up after lunch, Casey? I’ll need to get the inspector’s comments out to all the foremen this afternoon.” He motioned to Ham. “We’ve got to hurry, Ham. Carlisle’s waiting for us.”
    The two of them left with waves to Casey, who acknowledged the waves and the meaning: nothing else would be said on the subject. But as she hurried to drop the notes off at the office, she wished she could figure out what Tom Andrews was thinking.
     

Chapter 8
     
     
    June 1906
     
    At the end of her first week, Casey found a doctor to examine Sam. She paced outside their flat, wondering why it was taking so long. Somehow, the longer the exam, the more worried she was that something was seriously wrong. How long did doctor