The Island Girls: A heartbreaking historical novel

by Noelle Harrison

  Emer walked into town to the sound of the crickets chirruping and the sight of the sun setting over the sea. She pulled out her phone to check the time and saw a missed call from Lars. She tried to push it from her mind, but couldn’t help feeling a twinge of relief. He hadn’t completely rejected her.

  Town was quiet enough. Apart from lights, and the sound of music coming from The Sand Bar, the only sign of life was one lone man, standing at the end of town on the part where the road became a bridge over the rushing waters of the Atlantic. The way he was standing reminded her of Lars again. He was always there in the back of her mind. As she got closer, the man moved his hand – a tiny gesture, but it made her heart catch in her throat. He turned around and she stopped dead in her tracks. At the same time, he saw her. It was Lars.

  Everything fell away. The whole island slipping off her shoulders and into the Atlantic. Gone was Susannah and her story. Gone was Henry waiting for her in The Sand Bar. All she could think of, all she could see, was this one man standing before her. He was her whole world.

  17

  Susannah

  December 1958

  It had only been a few months but even so, Vinalhaven looked different to Susannah’s childhood memories of it at Christmastime. Everything appeared so much smaller than Cambridge. The houses and the harbour. The road seemed narrower, and it had not seemed nearly as long a walk to her house as she remembered yesterday when she’d got off the boat.

  The quiet. It was all around her this Christmas morning as she, Kate and her mother walked across the snow-laden island to the Youngs’ house. Susannah found herself missing the noises of city life: honking cars, the chatter of other pedestrians, and the occasional police siren. Most of all, she was missing Ava. Ever since their special Thanksgiving evening, they’d spent as much time together as they could. Hanging out at Club 47, or in coffee houses with other students. Susannah had never felt so alive, so in the right place. Being back home was hard. The fact she didn’t belong here felt even more pronounced than when she’d left. Moreover, they had been invited to Matthew Young’s family house for Christmas dinner, which was not an event she was looking forward to.

  ‘I don’t understand why we can’t have Christmas at home like always,’ she complained as they trudged through the slushy snow.

  ‘It would be rude to turn down the invitation,’ her mother said.

  At least her mother was talking to her now. Although she still hadn’t asked Susannah one thing about Harvard since she had come through the door last night.

  ‘But they’re not family,’ Susannah had protested.

  ‘Not yet,’ Kate said gleefully, her cheeks rosy with cold.

  Susannah’s heart sank. She had really hoped Matthew Young might have tired of her sister, and found a new love interest while she was away in Harvard. But since she had been gone, Kate and Matthew had started going steady. Their mother had befriended Matthew’s mother through dressmaking for her, and in return, Mrs Young had insisted they join them for Christmas dinner.

  ‘It won’t seem like Christmas without Gramps Olsen, Uncle Karl and Aunt Marjorie,’ Susannah said.

  ‘Things change,’ her mother said. ‘Now that Lottie’s living in Montreal and has a family of her own, of course they are going to want to spend Christmas with her.’

  It was hard to believe her cousin had a baby. It only seemed a few winters ago, they’d all been out carol-singing together.

  The Young house was on the far side of the island from their home, right on the water’s edge. The family had their own private pier and owned two fishing boats, which bobbed at ease upon the still water. The air was so bright and clear. It really was a perfect winter’s day, and Susannah would much rather have been out sledding.

  ‘Please try to be nice to him,’ Kate whispered, as they were brought into the house by Mrs Young, a mousy little woman with the same blue eyes as her sons. Susannah immediately felt guilty. Kate was always standing up for her with their mother; the least Susannah could do was try to get on with Matthew.

  But it was as if as soon as he laid eyes on her, Matthew was intent on goading her.

  ‘Well, the prodigal daughter returns.’ Matthew eyed her up. ‘Found a rich Boston husband yet?’

  Susannah ignored him, taking her place at the table. The whole family was there – Mr and Mrs Young, Matthew, Annie the sister, and of course Silas, whom Susannah hadn’t seen since the awful dance. But sitting next to Silas was Rachel Weaver, of all people. Silas had his arm around the back of Rachel’s chair, and it was clear they were a couple. Rachel looked different. Less plush than Susannah remembered. Her face was a bit puffy and pale, and her brown hair looked lank.

  ‘Oh hi, Susie,’ she said. ‘How’s Harvard?’

  Susannah couldn’t detect any sarcasm in her tone at all, and she was looking at her with a genuine expression of interest.

  ‘It’s great, thank you,’ she said.

  ‘Isn’t it just so amazing?’ Kate announced proudly. ‘I still can’t believe our Susie is at Harvard!’

  Matthew shrugged as if he didn’t care, and Silas looked at her with dead eyes, as if she were nothing to him.

  ‘Sure, I could have gone to college if I’d wanted,’ he said, which was the biggest lie Susannah had ever heard, seeing as he’d dropped out of high school before he had even graduated. ‘But I wanted to make a proper living.’

  ‘What good is a college education for an island girl?’ Mr Young joined in. He had the same harsh mouth as his eldest son. His features reminded Susannah of a fox: all sharp eyes and pointy nose.

  ‘You’re the only girl from Vinalhaven apart from Mrs Matlock to have gone to college,’ Rachel declared. ‘That sure is something.’

  ‘Mrs Matlock isn’t a real islander,’ Mr Young contradicted her. ‘She came to Vinalhaven after. That woman had a privileged upbringing down south.’

  Susannah really wished they’d change the conversation. She didn’t like all this scrutiny.

  ‘So, what you think you’ll major in?’ Mr Young asked her.

  ‘History.’

  The older man guffawed, his mouth full of food. ‘Well, what’s the good of history?’ he said. ‘I might have thought if you did nursing or law or such, might be of some value. But history?’ He turned to Susannah’s mother. ‘Well, Judith, I can see why you were none too happy about her going off like that.’

  Susannah was mortified at the idea her mother had been discussing her with Matthew’s parents.

  ‘Rosa, the gravy’s gone cold.’ He turned to his wife. ‘Heat it up.’

  ‘I am so sorry,’ Rosa Young apologised, picking up the gravy boat.

  ‘Please, it’s quite delicious, Rosa, I don’t find it too cold,’ her mother said.

  It felt like the longest Christmas dinner of Susannah’s life. At last, the subject changed to rogue fishermen who’d been trying to muscle in on the islanders’ lobster grounds.

  ‘Those outsiders don’t know who they’re dealing with,’ Silas said, a menacing note to his voice.

  The conversation was dominated by the three men as they moved from fishing to hunting.

  ‘Did you hear Mick Reed got shot in the leg, taking a crap in the woods?’ Matthew told his father and brother, and the three men had a good laugh about the unfortunate Mick Reed. The women stayed silent, not even looking at each other. It felt so suppressed to Susannah, after all her free debating in the coffee houses of Harvard.

  As Mrs Young served Christmas pudding well-soaked in brandy and cream, Silas cleared his throat.

  ‘I’ve an announcement to make!’ he said, standing up from the table and pulling Rachel Weaver with him, whose pale face was now streaked red with embarrassment. ‘I’ve been working hard these past years, and got enough now to build my own house.’ He looked directly at Susannah as if to say, See what you’re missing out on. ‘I’ve asked Rachel’s father for her hand in marriage and he’s said yes!’

  Kate clapped her hands in delight, a
nd Annie squealed with excitement. Everyone rushed forward with congratulations. Silas held his arm tightly around Rachel’s shoulder as everyone crowded around them. There was a smile plastered on Rachel’s face, but Susannah could see her eye twitching, and tears welling. She really didn’t look ecstatic at all.

  ‘You beat me to it!’ Susannah heard Matthew tell his brother.

  ‘Well, I am the eldest,’ Silas said. ‘I need to set the example.’

  Rachel turned and whispered in Silas’ ear. He gave her a look, nodded and released her. She scurried out of the room, clutching her stomach. She really did look very pale.

  ‘Do you think Rachel’s okay?’ Susannah whispered to Kate.

  ‘Yeah,’ Kate said, looking solemn. ‘I’ll go check on her.’

  Kate slipped out of the room while Mr Young poured everyone a celebratory whisky. But the two girls didn’t come back. The men didn’t seem to care, so intent were they on downing their bottle of Christmas whisky.

  ‘Go see if those girls are okay,’ Susannah’s mother whispered to her, as she got up from the table to help Rosa Young and Annie with the dishes.

  Susannah had no idea where the Youngs’ bathroom was, but she could hear crying and followed the noise. Pushing the door open at the end of the corridor, she found Rachel kneeling over the toilet, crying loudly, while Kate was sitting on the side of the bath and holding her hair out of her face as she retched.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ Susannah said, backing out of the room.

  ‘Wait,’ Kate said. ‘Can you get her a glass of water?’

  When Susannah had come back with the water, Rachel was sitting on the side of the bath next to Kate. Her sister had her arm around her friend. The girl had stopped crying, and her face was all red and blotchy.

  ‘Are you okay, Rachel?’ Susannah asked.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Kate said.

  But Rachel looked far from fine.

  ‘What am I going to do, girls?’ she whispered, her eyes wild with despair.

  ‘You’re going to do what you said before,’ Kate said, her voice calm. ‘You’re going to marry Silas. He’ll look after you.’

  ‘But I don’t love him,’ Rachel said in an agonised whisper.

  ‘Then don’t marry him for pity’s sake!’ Susannah said, without thinking. ‘He’s a terrible drunk!’

  ‘Shush, Susie, you don’t understand,’ Kate warned her. ‘Rachel has to marry Silas. It’s the right thing to do.’

  ‘But why, if she doesn’t like him…’ Susannah’s voice trailed off as she looked down at Rachel. The way she had her hand on the belly, and the very tiny but pronounced bump. ‘Oh,’ she said.

  ‘We only did it the once,’ Rachel told her, her voice passionate with defence. ‘He took me up the granite slabs in his father’s Buick and he had a bottle of liquor. I got a bit tipsy. Told him no, but then he called me frigid.’ Rachel’s voice shook. ‘I didn’t want him to think there was something wrong with me, so I let him.’

  Susannah didn’t know what to say to Rachel. Part of her wanted to tell her how stupid she was to fall for Silas’ lines. She didn’t, though, because another part of her felt very sorry for Rachel indeed. It could easily be Susannah herself sitting on the side of that bath, throwing up in the Youngs’ toilet and facing a lifetime with Silas Young.

  ‘It’ll be okay,’ Kate was consoling Rachel. ‘When the baby comes, you’ll be happy. You’ll see.’

  Susannah couldn’t help glancing at her sister’s stomach now, but it was as flat as ever.

  ‘You’re being careful aren’t you, Katie?’ Susannah turned to her sister.

  ‘Yes, Matthew doesn’t push me. He never has.’

  At least that was something.

  ‘But I think he’ll propose soon,’ she said, clutching Rachel’s hand. ‘And then we’ll be like sisters,’ she said to her friend.

  Kate’s words wounded Susannah, despite the fact they clearly cheered Rachel up. Even within two months, Susannah’s place on Vinalhaven had completely shifted. She had somehow become an outsider. Rachel was even usurping her position as Kate’s new sister. Susannah didn’t know how to stop it, apart from give up on Harvard and stay – and there was no way she could do that. Not just because she had worked so hard to get there, but also because of Ava.

  18

  Emer

  5th August 2011

  Emer and Lars had met at work – not on the ward or in surgery, but standing at the vending machine in the reception of the Mass Gen. She had been waiting for him to put his money in, pick an item, but all he seemed to do was stare at the rows of chips and chocolate bars.

  ‘I can’t decide what to get,’ he commented, turning to her. She couldn’t help but notice his eyes were the clearest blue she’d ever seen.

  ‘This is all junk but sometimes it hits the spot.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘But I’ve lost my appetite. Bad morning.’

  Emer knew not to ask further questions. They were in a hospital, after all. He slipped the quarter back into his pocket.

  ‘Want to get some food in the canteen instead of this crap?’ he said.

  Just like that. They walked together into the hospital canteen, Emer in her nurse’s pink scrubs, Lars in his surgeon’s blue. Over lunch, Lars confided he’d lost his first patient that morning since qualifying as a heart surgeon. He hadn’t expected it to hit him so hard.

  ‘Sometimes shit just happens,’ Emer said as she sipped her tea.

  ‘So you don’t believe everything happens for a reason?’

  ‘Not when you work on a paediatric oncology ward.’ She found she wanted to tell him about Orla. ‘And when your sister is in the ward above fighting cancer.’

  ‘Fuck!’ Lars said. ‘That’s bad. How old is she?’

  ‘Twenty-six.’

  Emer told him Orla’s story. Their journey with the chemo. All the positive vibes and healing energy she, Ethan and all their friends had surrounded Orla with. The raw juicing, and the Chinese medicine. The joy at the news of remission in the spring. The devastation at the return of the cancer the week before. He didn’t feed her the usual platitudes, tell her Orla would pull through. Not when Emer explained how much the cancer had spread.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said to her. ‘That is very tough for you.’

  ‘She’s all I’ve got.’

  It became a ritual for Lars and Emer to share dinner together in the hospital canteen every night when they were both on shift. At first, they talked about Orla a lot, and work. But then the conversation broadened. Lars began to tell her a little about his family in Bergen, in Norway. How he’d come to America to study medicine and had never returned once he’d qualified.

  ‘My father’s American, my mother Norwegian,’ he explained. ‘They’re divorced.’

  Right from the first day, her attraction to him had been immediate. Even though she’d had no make-up on and was in her scrubs, she’d felt her whole being awaken in his presence. He had been up for twenty-four hours and had two days’ growth on his chin, but in Emer’s eyes he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. If he ever touched her – a hand brushing hers as she passed the salt, their legs knocking together as they sat down at the canteen table, a reassuring hand on her shoulder when she opened up about Orla – the memory of the touch resonated throughout her body for hours. Thoughts of Lars filled her mind. Her desire for him. Her hope that he desired her. It was the only thing which distracted her from the horror of what was happening to her little sister, as Orla faded away before her eyes.

  They had never even so much as kissed until she’d banged on his door in the middle of the night. Even then, Lars had tried to slow things down. Wanted her to talk to him, but her pain had been past words. She needed to lose herself in passion. It was the only way to blot out the heartache of what was happening.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?’ he’d asked her, his hair standing on end, his eyes all sleepy.

  ‘Please?’ she’d asked him. ‘Just h
old me.’

  Within his embrace, she had found the courage to kiss his lips, slip her hands inside his pyjama bottoms.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he whispered, no longer sleepy, but looking at her with intensity.

  She had nodded, and that was how it had begun. She had drunk Lars in: no amount of kissing, caressing, love-making was enough to quench her thirst for him. All night long, their passion had bloomed beneath the covers of his bed. With Lars inside her, she was no longer lost and spinning in terror.

  19

  Susannah

  October 19th, 1959

  Harvard, Cambridge

  Dearest Katie,

  Can you believe one whole year has passed since I first walked across Harvard Square on my first day at college? It feels like it was only yesterday, and yet so much has happened in this time. I am an entirely different person. I’ve even changed my hair since you saw me last at Christmas. Ava cut bangs into it. Not sure if they suit me, but she insists they make my eyes appear bigger.

  How was your summer? Hope it got better. I was sorry to hear Matthew was sick, but good to hear he’s on the mend now. Who would have thought you could get such a terrible disease from a tick? He was very lucky to have such a devoted nurse as you. I am sure you looked after him so well, as you look after Mother and me.

  I know it was disappointing I didn’t come home during the summer holidays, but Katie, how could I have turned the Whittards down? I couldn’t believe it when they asked me to come with them to Oxford in England! And paid for everything! Professor Whittard had been invited to a conference with all these other top physicists and the whole family was going with him, apart from Gertrude. I asked her, didn’t she want to go too? But she looked at me as if I had three heads! Told me she was getting her summer holidays with her boys back down in Philly. I felt bad then, Katie, because I’d actually forgotten Gertrude has two teenage sons. It feels like she and I are just part of the Whittard family now.