The Island Girls: A heartbreaking historical novel Page 5

  ‘Emer, wait up!’

  She jumped to hear her name, and spun on her heel. It was Henry.

  ‘You forgot your book,’ he said, holding out the library copy of Twilight.

  ‘Oh, thanks,’ she mumbled, not looking at his face, embarrassed for him to see her choice of reading matter.

  ‘Let me know if it’s any good.’ She could hear the tease in his voice, and looked up. He had eyes the colour of autumn, brown flecked with amber and green. He looked taller, too, outside the library. Although his dark head was streaked with a few grey hairs, and he was clearly a bit older than her, there was a boyishness to his open smile.

  ‘I was just looking for something light,’ she said.

  ‘I wouldn’t say vampires are very light,’ Henry said, grinning. ‘But I’ve seen this book everywhere. Peggy was just saying the teenage girls are obsessed with it on the island.’

  Emer winced to think of Peggy comparing her reading taste with Henry to that of a teenage girl. ‘Oh well, that sounds a bit rubbish,’ she said, stuffing the book into her bag.

  They stood for a moment in awkward silence. She waited for him to get into his pick-up, feeling it was rude just to walk away.

  ‘Hey, would you like to go for a coffee sometime?’ Henry suggested.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she faltered, surprised by his forwardness.

  ‘We could go for one now,’ he pushed, giving her a warm smile.

  Emer felt panic rise in her chest. This man Henry was very nice, and a coffee was just a coffee, but it felt a little like a date and she wasn’t ready for a date right now with anyone.

  ‘Oh, thank you, but I can’t,’ she said hastily. ‘Like I said in the library, I have to get back to Susannah.’

  ‘I thought you were just making that up to get away from Peggy,’ he said. ‘Another time then.’ He made for the pick-up and his white husky dog, who was almost clambering out of the open window, so keen was he to see his master returning. ‘Good luck with Susannah,’ Henry said as he got in the pick-up.

  After buying some groceries in the market shop, Emer walked fast back to Susannah’s house, feeling guilty she’d been so long. By the time she got back she felt warmed up and better for the first time in ages. Despite still feeling so bad about Lars, Henry’s invitation had lifted her spirits. She had no intention of going for a coffee with him, but the fact he’d invited her was flattering. Both he and Peggy had been interested in who she was, and that she was helping Susannah. They didn’t view her as a nuisance. She was going to make things up to Orla by taking the greatest care of Susannah Olsen. Her sister, and her mam, would be proud of her. It was one small way to stay connected to those she had loved the most.

  Susannah

  April 1954

  Susannah marched up the hill ahead of Kate, who was, as usual, dawdling on her way to school.

  ‘Come on, we’re going to be late,’ Susannah called back. But Kate seemed to be going even slower.

  They had a big math test today, and Susannah was anxious to get to school early so she had time to go over the book again. Math was her weakest subject, but she knew it was crucial she did well if she was to have any chance of getting off this island and going to college. It was a big dream, but Susannah was determined to aim high. She believed it was what her father would have wanted.

  She stood at the top of the hill by the church, her hands on her hips.

  ‘Hurry up!’ she scolded.

  Kate broke out into a reluctant run to join her. ‘Aw, Susie, we’re going to be there before everyone else.’

  ‘That’s the point,’ Susannah said crossly.

  ‘Why are you always so serious?’ Kate complained. ‘You never come out in the yard at recess. You don’t know about anything that’s going on with anyone else in school.’

  ‘I don’t care to know what’s going on,’ Susannah said.

  ‘Sometimes I have to stop the boys calling you names,’ Kate said, looking at her slyly.

  ‘Like what?’ Susannah asked, surprised. She hadn’t even thought any of the boys noticed her in school. They were all so loud and stupid.

  ‘Matthew Young said you’re like a schoolteacher already; an old woman, he called you,’ Kate told her. ‘I said you were three times as clever as him and he’s only jealous of you.’

  Susannah linked Kate’s arm, touched by her sister’s defence.

  ‘Thanks, Katie.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Kate said. ‘But you should come out and talk with me and the girls, because you know you do act like an old woman sometimes.’

  ‘But you know I want to go to college, Kate,’ Susannah said. ‘I have to stay in and study as much as I can.’

  Her sister was quiet for a moment. They could hear the patter of rain on the leaves above them as the sky clouded over.

  ‘Come on, it’s starting to rain, let’s run the rest of the way,’ Susannah said, tugging on Kate’s arm, but her sister held back.

  ‘Why are you so fixed on getting off the island, Susie?’ Kate said. ‘Don’t you love me and Mom enough to stay?’

  ‘You know that’s not why, Katie,’ Susannah said, exasperated. She had given up trying to get her mother to understand, but she had hoped Kate would. The rain began to fall in earnest. ‘Come on,’ she said, tugging her again. ‘We’re going to get wet.’

  The two girls broke out into a run for the last stretch to the school gates.

  The math test went better than Susannah had hoped. Rather than stay in the classroom and read as she usually did at recess, Susannah decided to go out and look for Kate. Try to be a bit more social. They were in different years, but even in the dinner hour they didn’t hang out together. Susannah wasn’t fond of Kate’s two best friends in school – Annie Young, the sister of Matthew and Silas, who was as dim as her two brothers, and Rachel Weaver, the daughter of the owner of the island hotel, a spoilt Daddy’s girl who was always boasting about how rich her father was.

  As she walked out of the building, she noticed all the kids were standing in a circle on the other side of the yard, and some of the girls were crying. She saw Kate’s blonde hair among the throng.

  ‘Hey what’s going on?’ she asked Kate as she pushed in next to her.

  ‘Oh, look at the poor thing,’ Kate said, pointing to a seagull which was thrashing around in the yard. ‘It just dropped out of the sky right in front of us.’

  ‘Its wing is broke,’ Annie said, stating the obvious.

  ‘Oh, I can’t stand to look,’ Rachel said, burying her head in her hands.

  ‘But how did it happen?’ Susannah asked. For a seagull to drop out of the sky with a broken wing was completely illogical.

  None of the girls answered her. Instead, Annie’s two brothers came busting into the crowd.

  ‘Don’t worry, girls,’ Silas said to them. ‘We’ll put the poor thing out of its misery.’

  Matthew knelt down by the bird, while Silas handed him a stone. Matthew raised his arm, and with one swift movement slammed the stone down onto the poor bird’s head. All the girls screamed in unison; even some of the other boys looked white. Matthew kept repeating the action until the bird was clearly long dead. Susannah felt her stomach lurch. That was just too quick. Couldn’t they have tried to fix the bird first?

  ‘What’s going on here?’ Mr Samuels said, marching towards the gang of teenagers.

  ‘It had a broken wing, Sir,’ Silas said.

  ‘We did the kindest thing,’ Matthew joined him.

  ‘I see, well, good. Thank you, boys,’ Mr Samuels said. ‘Go on back inside, everyone. We’ll get Mr Jenkins to clear it up.’

  They all moved away towards the school buildings. Susannah couldn’t bear to look at the dead bird again. It made her stomach churn.

  ‘Oh, the poor bird,’ Kate said to her. ‘But they did the right thing, didn’t they?’

  ‘I guess,’ Susannah said as they walked behind Matthew and Silas Young. But as they were going through the doors back in
to school, she got a glimpse of the top of a slingshot sticking out of Silas Young’s trouser pocket. They had shot the bird down! Her immediate instinct was to run back to Mr Samuels and tell him. But what good would that do? Just make everyone else hate her for telling on the two most popular boys in school.

  Had Matthew known his brother had shot the bird out of the sky, or did he genuinely want to end its suffering? Susannah had never forgotten the way Matthew and Silas had taunted her and Kate when they’d gone swimming down at the cove. But no matter how many times she reminded her sister how mean they were, Kate never minded it any more, saying they were just boys being boys. Susannah knew that was just one big fat lie. She didn’t understand any of the boys in their school. She really hoped one day she’d meet a boy she liked. All she had to do was get off the island.

  Emer

  15th October 2011

  Emer woke as the sun rose. She hadn’t drawn the curtains in her room. From her bed, she could see rosy light seeping into the sky. She got out of bed and watched the sun rising above the pine trees on an islet in the bay. The view from her bedroom looked out over Vinalhaven harbour and all the moored boats used over the summer months. The water was deep blue, with smooth, slow ripples rocking against the sides of the pleasure vessels. The fishing boats had already taken off in the morning dark. Susannah had told her last night the fishermen went out at four in the morning, returning at one every afternoon.

  ‘From the lobster pots straight to The Sand Bar every darn day,’ Susannah had said, her tone critical. ‘But always going home to bed at four in the afternoon.’

  Emer took in the fragile beauty of the day. She was used to being up this early from working in the hospital. It was a time she’d always loved. The untouched quality of early morning, like new snow. But ever since that dreadful day she’d woken up next to Lars, rolled over and turned on her phone, dawn’s magic had been ruined. It had become the time when she’d found out her sister had died. And she hadn’t been there, all because of Lars. No – she couldn’t blame him. It had been she who had run away from the hospital – Ethan, her dad and Sharon all sat around Orla in the bed. She’d banged on Lars’ door in the middle of the night. Orla had held on for so many weeks. Why had she chosen those exact hours, when her sister was absent, to let go?

  Emer wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand. She had to get it together. Her job was to be a support to Susannah. She couldn’t be wallowing in her own grief. She had to stay upbeat for her new patient. She put on her best comfort sweater – an old one of her mam’s, deep green and soft – over her pyjamas and pulled on a pair of thick woolly socks. She was going to see if she could put together a breakfast Susannah might feel like trying, despite her dwindling appetite.

  A short while later, balancing coffee and scrambled eggs with toast on a tray she’d found in the back of the big blue dresser in the kitchen, Emer climbed the stairs to Susannah’s bedroom. She tentatively knocked on the door. No answer, but she could hear Susannah coughing. She knocked again and walked in.

  Susannah hadn’t closed her curtains either. Her bedroom was bathed in gold, illuminating dust and cobwebs but also displaying the beautiful quilt on her bed. Every time Emer looked at it, she saw another detail she hadn’t noticed before. This morning it was a series of tiny apple-green hearts with white sprigs in the print at the four corners of the quilt.

  ‘Good morning,’ Emer said, in her most cheerful nurse’s voice. ‘That really is such a lovely quilt. Did you make it?’

  No answer from Susannah’s bed, although the old lady was awake, giving her a look half-way between surprise and outrage.

  ‘I made you some breakfast.’ Emer placed the tray down on the table by the bed and turned to help Susannah sit up, but she was already getting out of bed. ‘Oh, don’t you want the food I made?’

  ‘Sure, sure,’ said Susannah, looking cross. ‘But I ain’t bedbound yet.’

  ‘I know, but I thought it might be nice for you to be treated to breakfast in bed.’

  ‘Well, we eat downstairs in this house.’

  Emer picked up the tray again. ‘Okay, sorry,’ she said, trying not to sound as wounded as she felt.

  ‘I don’t need help dressing, either,’ Susannah snapped, making sure Emer got the hint.

  Half an hour later, by the time both the coffee and toast were stone cold, Susannah came downstairs, dressed in a sky blue sweater and denims. Her silver hair was brushed and she was even wearing a little make-up. Emer was mortified to still be in her pyjamas. She could feel Susannah’s disapproval as they sat at the kitchen table in silence. But Susannah said nothing, perusing the very thin local paper, and picking at her breakfast while Emer forced down toast and fried tomatoes.

  ‘You not eating eggs?’ Susannah said, surveying Emer’s breakfast plate.

  ‘No. I’m vegan.’

  ‘So, you don’t eat meat? No fish, dairy?’

  ‘Not since I was fifteen.’

  Susannah grunted. ‘Shame you won’t eat the lobster. It sure is good here.’ She pushed away her plate of eggs.

  ‘Are they no good?’ Emer ventured.

  ‘They’re fine.’ Susannah’s tone softened. ‘It’s just hard to eat.’

  ‘I’ll do some experimenting,’ Emer offered. ‘We’ll find something you can eat.’

  ‘What’s the point?’ Susannah said, pushing her chair back and standing up. Emer was about to go back into cheerful nurse mode and dish out some positive platitudes when Susannah’s phone began to ring.

  Susannah began hunting for her phone. ‘That’ll be my niece, Rebecca,’ she said, looking much happier all of a sudden. ‘She rings nearly every morning, between lectures. Did I tell you she’s a history professor at King’s College in London?’

  ‘No, Lynsey did.’

  ‘Now where is the darn thing?’ Susannah declared.

  Emer found the phone on top of a pile of books on the dresser, and handed it to Susannah, who gave her the first – if tight – smile she’d offered her since Emer had arrived.

  ‘Hello, honey.’ Susannah’s tone immediately softened as she answered the phone.

  Emer got up from the table.

  ‘It was Rebecca’s mom, my sister Kate, who made the quilt,’ Susannah said to Emer, putting a hand over the mouthpiece.

  So Susannah’s sister had been a seamstress. Had she made all the furnishings in the house? Cushion covers, quilts on all the beds, and quilted throws on the couches? Emer left the kitchen, wandering into the main downstairs room, coffee mug in hand. The view overlooked the front porch with a swing seat, round table, wicker chairs and a white trellis covered in red leaves. Beyond the porch was the garden. Many years ago it might have been looked after lovingly, but now things clearly needed some management. She’d never been much of a gardener, but the way Susannah was reacting to her help inside the house, she guessed she’d have plenty of time on her own to give it a try.

  Surveying the front room, which also appeared to be Susannah’s study, Emer determined it could do with a big clean and tidy up. Her eyes were drawn to two photographs in frames on Susannah’s desk. In the first one she recognised Lynsey, though a child, the red hair blazing around her pale face, and next to her was a younger girl, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Clearly her sister, the adored Rebecca. Emer put the photograph down and picked up the second frame. It was an old black and white photograph of a young woman sitting on the same veranda she had just looked at and smiling shyly. Emer guessed this must be the sister, Kate. She was very pretty. Emer peered at the photograph but it was hard to make out her features in the dim light. Balancing her coffee mug on top of a stack of papers on the table at the window, Emer leant across to pull back the curtains properly. Dust flew up from the heavy drapes, making her sneeze. She put down the framed picture as she sneezed again, lifting her hand to cover her nose, and knocking over her coffee cup. Dark brown liquid streaked across the stack of papers. Emer picked up the top papers in a panic, making the
mess even worse in the process.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Susannah came storming into the room and snatched the papers from her hand.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I was opening the curtains and I knocked my cup over.’

  Susannah looked furious as she dabbed the top of her papers with her handkerchief.

  ‘You have copies, don’t you?’ Emer asked in a panic.

  ‘Of course I don’t have copies!’ Susannah indicated the old typewriter. ‘Can you not just mind your own damn business?’

  ‘I really am so sorry. Please, what can I do?’ Emer felt stress and panic building up in her body.

  Susannah shook her head. ‘This isn’t working out. You being here, I mean. It’s not personal. I just can’t have anyone else in my house.’

  ‘It was an accident,’ Emer defended herself.

  ‘That may be, but this house is too small to have a stranger living in it with me,’ Susannah countered. ‘You can see I am quite able to look after myself.’

  Susannah stood tall, but Emer could see the pain outlined in the face. Her mouth was pulled into a severe line, her forehead creased with focus, and her eyes glared with pain.

  Emer took a breath, determined not to get annoyed with Susannah. ‘You might think you don’t need me, but things can change all of a sudden with pancreatic cancer,’ she said. ‘Besides, Lynsey is paying me to help you. I can’t just walk away.’