The Island Girls: A heartbreaking historical novel

by Noelle Harrison

  Susannah went to Ava, took her hands in hers. ‘She’s my sister, Ava. I have to help her.’

  But Ava shook her head. ‘Su, he’s dangerous. I don’t want you on the same island.’ She squeezed Susannah’s hand. Let it go. ‘Why can’t you send them a telegram with our address in New York? You don’t need to go and get them.’

  ‘He reads all her mail. He’ll know.’

  Ava was hurt and angry. Susannah didn’t blame her. They were supposed to be leaving for New York the next morning. Ava started her new job in two days’ time.

  ‘I’ll bring them to New York,’ Susannah promised. ‘I’ll be right behind you. We’ll take the Greyhound bus from Boston.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ava said, looking worried. ‘By the sounds of him, he won’t let her go easy.’

  ‘I can’t turn my back on my family. Not now she’s finally been brave enough to say she’ll leave.’

  Ava sat on the green chair. It belonged to the apartment, but Susannah would always associate it with Ava. It was the place she always sat to think.

  ‘Okay.’ Ava gave in. ‘They can stay with us until they find somewhere.’

  ‘Thank you, my love.’ Susannah squeezed in next to Ava on the green chair and hugged her tightly.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure what your mom will make of us sharing a bed, though,’ she said, giving Susannah a lazy grin.

  ‘Frankly, I don’t care what my mom thinks of me any more,’ Susannah said, giving Ava a kiss on the lips. ‘She must be real frightened of Matthew if Kate says she might come with her.’

  Susannah couldn’t imagine her mother outside of the island. Would she be able to cope with New York? She had tried to stop caring about her mom after the awful things she’d said to her the night of the rape. Let her fall off the ferry into the Atlantic, she told herself. But another part of her couldn’t help worrying about her mom, too. Last time she’d seen her, there had been something a little not right about her.

  Pushing thoughts of Mother from her head, she looked into Ava’s deep brown eyes. ‘Everything is going to be okay,’ she promised her.

  It felt strange to be saying these words to Ava, because usually it was her lover who said it to her. All the times Susannah had broken down in bed, unable to bear Ava’s touch. Slowly and gently, Ava had coaxed her back, little by little, and her senses had been reborn. The idea of being apart from Ava, even for a few days, was torture. But she couldn’t let Kate down. Not now she’d finally found the courage to leave Matthew.

  They made love, curled up in the green chair of their stripped apartment. Afterwards, Susannah often thought about that last hot, late summer afternoon in Cambridge, when she and Ava had been together. Their bodies slick with sweat, melting into each other. Feeling the beat of Ava’s heavy heart in the thick, roasting air. All of who they were was contained in their love-making. Their most primal selves, licking each other, wordlessly sensing the urges and wants of their bodies; and their most spiritual selves, looking into each other’s eyes. No need for words, for it was said in every tiny gesture – I love you I love you I love you.

  With the sounds of afternoon stirring the street below as children went out to play after a hot, dusty day in school, lamenting the end of their holidays, and Bostonians emerged from the boiling subway, or sat on the café sidewalks and drank beer, Susannah got washed and dressed.

  Ava sat cross-legged on the floor in her damp shirt, staring out of the window.

  ‘I’ll see you in a couple of days,’ Susannah said, bending down and kissing the top of her head.

  Ava caught her arm.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ she asked her. ‘I’ve a bad feeling.’

  Susannah had never seen Ava so anxious. Not even at one of their most controversial protests.

  ‘I have to go get my sister,’ Susannah said, sounding determined, although inside she was tempted to give in to Ava. Start fresh in New York, and never think about her mom and sister again. But she knew it went against her grain to be able to do that. ‘If I was in trouble, Katie would come get me.’

  ‘But would she?’ Ava questioned, looking at her with searching eyes.

  ‘Sure she would,’ Susannah said, feeling a little thrown by Ava’s question.

  Ava stood up, padded over to her in her bare feet.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said. ‘Drive us to the ferry. It’s five or six hours, right?’

  ‘Honey, you’ve got to get to New York tomorrow,’ Susannah said, putting a hand on her arm. ‘Your job.’

  ‘I can defer.’

  They both knew that if Ava didn’t turn up in two days’ time, the job was lost.

  ‘I love that you want to protect me,’ Susannah said. ‘But honest, it will be okay. I will be there and gone before Matthew even sets eyes on me. He’s gone for hours every day, out fishing.’

  The wind started to pick up as the bus left Portland. She could feel it buffeting the sides of the vehicle as they trundled down the road. She tried to sleep, but it was impossible. Despite her reassurances to Ava, she was dreading going back to the island. What if Kate had already changed her mind since she sent the letter? What should Susannah do then? Leave immediately on her own, or try to persuade Kate to come with her?

  In Rockland, Susannah made it in time for last drinks in The Trade Winds Inn. She ordered a whisky straight, while waiting to see if they had a room for the night. The lights flickered in the near-empty bar as the receptionist came over to her with a room key. Susannah downed her whisky in one and then dragged her tired limbs to bed.

  She lay down on the big bed, and closed her eyes. She was exhausted from all the days of packing up their flat and the long bus journey to Rockland, and yet it was impossible to sleep. The wind was rising, as was Susannah’s tension. She could hear the inn’s sign swaying back and forth, and the trees’ branches scratching against her window pane. She recognised the tone in the wind. A nor’easter was coming down from Canada. Rare at this time of year, but all the same wild and dangerous. She sat up in bed. If the wind didn’t drop soon, the ferry would be cancelled tomorrow morning. How would she get over to rescue Kate?

  35

  Emer

  30th October 2011

  Emer lay down on her bed at last. She felt queasy from the morning-after pill, but also relieved she had got it in time. She was annoyed at Henry. She had sent him a text to tell him she had to go to the medical centre and why, but he hadn’t offered to come with her. Not that she wanted him to, but the point was it was also his fault she was getting the morning-after pill, and he should offer to be there. Instead, he’d sent her a barrage of loving texts.

  I feel so lucky we met.

  Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow, baby.

  Never felt this way about anyone before ❤️❤️❤️

  He was completely over the top. She didn’t answer any of them, not wanting to encourage him. How stupid she’d been. The poor guy had completely misunderstood what had happened between them. Tomorrow, she’d tell him she was happy to remain friends, but wasn’t ready for anything else. It would be cruel not to put him straight. She scrolled through her phone. Still no messages from Lars. She felt awful now she’d slept with Henry. Even though she and Lars were no longer together, it felt like a betrayal.

  ‘I’m a mess,’ she said to her dead sister. ‘It’s all your fault!’

  Anger, pure and unjustified, swept through her whole being. How dare Orla die on her? Leave her all alone? She was fucking everything up without her. If only she could talk to her, Orla would tell her what to do.

  She picked up her phone and called Ethan. The closest she could be to her dead sister was Orla’s husband. They’d always got on.

  ‘Hey, Emer, how’s it going?’ Ethan said. ‘It’s good to hear your voice.’

  Ethan sounded better than when she’d said goodbye to him in Boston. They talked for over an hour, memory after memory of Orla. They cried together, but they were able to laugh too.

&n
bsp; ‘Remember her vegan brownies? She wouldn’t even tell me the secret to her recipe!’

  ‘Which of you went vegan first?’ Ethan asked. ‘She always said you copied her!’

  ‘Ah no, it was a pact,’ Emer said. ‘I never really liked meat, but then Orla suggested we do it together when she was fourteen, and I was fifteen. I was into animal rights, and she just wanted to lose weight!’

  Ethan sighed. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing her, Em.’

  ‘I know,’ she said.

  ‘It’s not fair.’

  ‘I know.’

  They were silent for a minute. Remembering Orla’s last days.

  ‘I want to ask you something,’ Ethan said, eventually. ‘I’ve some of Orla’s ashes. I’m going out to Cape Cod this weekend. Hiring a boat and scattering some in the sea.’

  ‘She’d like that,’ Emer said, trying not to think of her spillage in the house in Quincy.

  ‘Do you want to come? It would mean a lot to me.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Ethan, I’m looking after this old lady. She’s really sick.’

  ‘Just see how it goes,’ he said. ‘Call me, and I’ll collect you from wherever.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she whispered, knowing she wouldn’t.

  ‘I know I asked you before, but please can I give you some of the ashes too? Would you bring them to Ireland? I know she wanted to have some scattered in the woods where she grew up.’

  ‘Oh.’ Emer’s voice caught in her throat. ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back home.’

  ‘Think about it. No pressure. I’ll keep some safe for you,’ Ethan said. ‘I think it would mean a lot to your father too.’

  After Ethan got off the phone, Emer couldn’t help thinking how very strange and surreal it was to be talking to her brother-in-law about her sister’s ashes. Different parts of what used to be Orla, being scattered in different parts of the world. In her heart, she knew her sister would want her to take her ashes back to Mammy. But she wasn’t ready to go home yet. She’d see things through here, with Susannah, first.

  After Lynsey’s visit, and Emer’s night away, Susannah had appeared so much more vulnerable to her. Now they had just one of Kate’s letters left to type up, it was as if she’d let herself get weaker. But still she refused the medication.

  ‘Not until we’re finished,’ she’d insisted.

  Emer’s eyes ached from looking at the screen of her laptop. She closed them. Where was Lars now? She pictured his hands. Such beautiful, fine hands, surgeon’s hands. Created to save lives. Steady and nimble. Was he in the hospital? Trying to focus on his work, but his head clouded with memories of her, just as her head was clouded with memories of him? Or could he even be in surgery? His mind utterly focused and clear in concentration, because someone’s life was literally on the line. Was he able to shut Emer away in a box? Lock her up and one day forget about her? When she thought that way, it drove her crazy. She never wanted Lars to forget her, because he would always be in the back of her mind.

  36

  Susannah

  September 1966

  Susannah was stuck in Rockland for two nights. On the first morning, when she’d gone down to the ferry terminal in the howling wind, she’d known it was pointless. Sure enough, no ferries were running the whole day. She went straight to send a telegram, which she guessed Ava would get when she arrived at their new Brooklyn apartment the next day.

  STORM STOP CANT GET OVER TO ISLAND STOP BE ON OUR WAY SOON STOP LOVE SU

  Afterwards, she walked along the main street of Rockland while the rain and wind beat into her. She felt on edge. Only natural, considering she was returning to a place of deep trauma. But she had to get past her own hurt to help her sister. She retreated into a diner, and spent the afternoon drinking cup after cup of black coffee and trying to make notes for her lesson plans for her first semester teaching at Columbia. But her mind wouldn’t settle, as dread seeped through every pore of her body. The hours ticked by slowly, while the wind howled outside.

  ‘Say, honey, stay in here until the worst of it’s over,’ her waitress, Sandy, said. ‘It’ll start dying down soon.’

  At four o’clock, the wind suddenly stopped.

  ‘We’re in the eye of the storm now,’ Sandy announced.

  Susannah felt her heart quicken, a feeling of panic setting in. The uneasy calm was almost worse than the constant battering of the storm. She was desperate to get over to the island. If Kate had finally plucked up the courage to leave Matthew, her situation must be extreme.

  As she walked back to the inn for the second night, the wind picked up again. Please blow away, she begged nature, for Katie, please. Her sister, childhood sprite of Vinalhaven, fairy of the forests. If nature would turn for anyone, it would be for her.

  Susannah woke early the next morning. Sunshine flooded into her room in the inn. The storm was over. She looked at her watch. Six fifteen. She’d plenty of time to get the first ferry.

  Island folk waved to her with surprised looks on their faces as she rushed through town. It was rude not to stop and catch up. She hadn’t been home in five years, and she could see by the curious stares there’d been plenty of gossip about why. But Susannah was beyond caring what the islanders thought of her. Once she left today with her mom and Kate, they were never going to come back.

  As soon as she ran into the house, Susannah knew something was very wrong. For a start, the back door was open, and banging, as it hung on its hinges. She called out for Kate, but there was no answer. Where was everyone? It was only eight in the morning. She’d expected to be greeted by her mom and Kate at breakfast, with the girls eating their oatmeal. Then it hit her; of course the storm would have stopped the fishermen from going out this morning. Matthew could still be in the house. She searched all the downstairs rooms, but the door to her sister and Matthew’s room was locked, with no key to open it. She banged on it, called out, but there was no answer.

  Susannah ran up the stairs to the second floor, calling out again. She was about to search the rooms, but then she heard a child crying. She climbed the final set of stairs into the eaves of the house, and pushed the door open to her and Kate’s old bedroom. At first the room looked empty, but then she saw her two nieces under the bed, huddled up together. She gave a little cry to see the two girls. She wouldn’t have recognised Lynsey as the baby she’d once minded, but Rebecca was the image of Kate when she was little. Lynsey was holding onto her little sister protectively. She was dry-eyed and pale, but Rebecca was crying, clearly terrified.

  Susannah knelt down on the floor.

  ‘It’s okay, I’m your Aunty Susannah,’ she said to Lynsey, who looked at her with wide eyes. ‘Where’s your mommy?’

  ‘In the garden,’ Lynsey said, her lips trembling.

  ‘Where’s Granny?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ Lynsey said.

  ‘Okay, honey, I’ll be right back,’ Susannah said. ‘Just stay there. Don’t come out.’

  Lynsey nodded, and Susannah could see in her face it wasn’t the first time she’d had to flee with her little sister and hide under the bed. The realisation stabbed her in the heart. She should have come back sooner. Years sooner.

  Terror began to take over as she ran down the stairs and out of the back door. She saw her immediately. Her sister in her white nightie, lying face down in the lush green grass.

  ‘Katie!’ she cried out, tearing over to her.

  She knelt down by her sister, and rolled her over. The weight of Kate’s body told her the truth, but it was only when she saw the open, staring eyes that she knew for certain she was too late. Her sister’s face was battered with bruises, and Susannah saw a huge red gash on the top of her head. The blood had soaked into the grass surrounding her.

  Susannah screamed so loudly that the crows took off. Through the agony of her grief, cold, lethal anger spread through her. She closed Kate’s eyes, laying her to rest on the grass. Taking one of the sheets that had blown off the line during the s
torm, she covered her sister’s body. Kate had nearly made it to the sea at the edge of their garden. That was where she’d been running. Leading her demented husband away from her children and into the storm, into the wild waves. She would have drowned to save them.

  Susannah stood up and clasped her cold hands together. Took a deep breath. Icy vengeance began to cloud all reason. Where was the monster? And where was her mother?

  Back inside the house, she tried the door again to Matthew and Kate’s bedroom, but it wouldn’t open. If Ava were with her, she’d tell her to take the children and go find help. The police would come and arrest Matthew, and he would spend the rest of his life in jail. That would be the proper kind of justice. But Ava wasn’t here, and she couldn’t wait for that. He must be in that locked room, and she was going to make him pay. Running upstairs, she went into her mother’s bedroom to see if she could find the key. To her shock, her mother was in there. Sitting at her dressing table, quite still, as if a ghost.

  ‘Mom! Mom!’ Susannah screamed. ‘Katie’s dead. Mom, he killed her!’

  Her mother looked in the mirror and their eyes locked. She lifted her hand, with the key in it.

  ‘He’s downstairs,’ she said to her daughter, clearly dazed. ‘I locked him in.’

  ‘Mom, go up to the girls; they need you.’

  Her mother rose from her chair obediently.

  Susannah grabbed the key from her hand, and charged out of the room. She was all fury and instinct. Nothing, not even her love for Ava, would stop her now. She went down to the end of the hall and opened the cupboard. Took out her father’s old hunting rifle. Opening the drawer, she found two bullets. She cocked the gun and loaded it. Snapped it shut. She walked down the hall, ready now.