They made a last stop, at Queenstown in the south of Ireland, and took on more passengers, almost all third class. Billy stood at the handrail, looking at the town and the road beyond, thinking how strange it was that if he walked due north from here he’d be home in a week. Within a few hours they were heading out to sea once more, this time on the long Atlantic part of the voyage. The good weather held, although there was more cloud cover now and the temperature seemed to drop by the hour. ‘It’s always colder on the open sea,’ said Mr McElroy when Billy asked him about it. ‘Except for Iceland there’s no land to stop the freezing winds blowing straight from the Arctic. Don’t worry Billy, you’ll soon get used to it.’ Billy wasn’t so sure, although he did have a thick woollen pea-coat as part of his uniform, the best coat he’d ever had in his life. The bellboys were issued with gloves too, although they were white and more for show than warmth. Still, things were good, Billy often thought as they sailed on through calm seas, the ocean flat, almost glassy.
