‘Don’t know why she doesn’t come and mind me herself,’ Susannah moaned. ‘But oh no, I forgot, she’s too busy being a charlatan fortune teller, making money on the back of the real history of persecution and suffering in Salem.’ Susannah shook her head, looking fierce. ‘My niece is an embarrassment.’
Emer felt sorry for Lynsey, responsible for an aunt who clearly thought her career as a tarot reader was shameful.
Susannah shrugged. ‘Well, I guess you’d better stay if Lynsey is paying you,’ she said, trying to sound indifferent. ‘Rebecca’s coming back soon. You won’t need to stay on then, she’ll help me.’
Emer plastered a smile on her face. Its rigidity made her chin tremble. ‘That’s good,’ she said. The sooner the better. Emer wanted to have a go at Susannah. Tell her how lucky she was to have a nurse all to herself. How it had been a constant stress to give all of her patients on the oncology ward the attention they needed, and yet Susannah, one woman, seemed to take up so much more space in her life after only a few days.
Susannah
July 1957
What was taking Kate so long? Susannah had been sitting outside the library for nearly a quarter of an hour waiting for her sister. Like every other day this week, she’d gone straight from school to the library. Sat at the table right at the back and by the window, away from the island gossipers up front, waiting for Mrs Matlock to come down to her. The foliage on the trees was thick, casting a green light on her hands as she turned the pages of the book. Everything was bursting with life outside. But Susannah had a lot of study to do if she was going to have any chance of her scholarship. It was less than a year ago that Mr Samuels, the principal of their small island high school, had called her in for a meeting. He had told Susannah her grades were the highest of any of their pupils in years, and encouraged her to apply for college.
‘But we can’t afford it,’ Susannah had said.
‘There are scholarships,’ Mr Samuels had told her. ‘We can help you apply. Do you know where you would like to go?’
She had always known, but it seemed such a far-fetched fantasy she felt embarrassed as she told him.
‘Harvard!’ Mr Samuels raised his eyebrows. ‘I guess no harm in aiming high, but you should apply for other colleges too. You’ll need a tutor.’
That was when Mr Samuels had said he’d ask Mrs Matlock, the only resident woman on the island who’d ever been to college.
Susannah had been worried. She had no means of paying Mrs Matlock for her time, and she didn’t want to tell her mother about her application. What was the point of getting her all stirred up if she didn’t get in anyway?
‘I am sure Mrs Matlock can work out a way you could help her out in the library in payment,’ Mr Samuels had said to Susannah, as if sensing her anxiety.
Mrs Matlock had been a tutor beyond all Susannah’s expectations. She adored history as well, but also was very good at math, one of Susannah’s weaker subjects. The system was that she would set Susannah some tasks while the library was open, and then when it closed she’d go over Susannah’s answers before they both headed home for dinner. In return, Susannah worked in the library on Saturday mornings, refilling the shelves and helping Mrs Matlock organise the catalogue.
‘I’m so proud of you, Susannah,’ Mrs Matlock would often say, hand on her shoulder. ‘Just keep working hard; you’ve got this.’
Her words were bittersweet because Susannah so wished her mother could say the same.
Today, Susannah had set all her study aside at exactly five.
‘I’ve got to meet Kate,’ she explained to Mrs Matlock. ‘We’re going blueberry picking up at Amherst.’
‘It’s a beautiful day,’ Mrs Matlock said, picking up a stack of books left on Susannah’s table. ‘You deserve a break, Susannah. It’s nearly the holidays, and so warm outside.’
‘It’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow and we’re making her blueberry jelly,’ Susannah said, gathering her things.
‘Oh, my favourite,’ Mrs Matlock declared.
‘I’ll bring you a pot,’ Susannah said shyly.
She and Kate had planned to serve the blueberry jelly with pancakes in the morning. Ever since Daddy never came back, their mother struggled with birthdays. Spent the morning on her own in bed, crying, and then a frantic afternoon cleaning up as the Olsen clan – Gramps Olsen, Uncle Karl and Aunt Marjorie – would descend on the house in the evening with fresh lobster. They meant well, but it was a strain for them all. The same stories told about Daddy. From Gramps, about how Ronald had been the best darn baseball player the island had ever known. Fishing tales from Uncle Karl; in particular, the time their father had scooped Karl out of the freezing Atlantic Ocean, saving his younger brother’s life when he fell overboard.
Kate hated the visits as much as Susannah did, although for a different reason.
‘They’ll never let Mom go,’ Kate complained afterwards. ‘How’ll she find a new husband when the Olsens come over all the time?’
‘They’re our family, Kate!’ Susannah admonished her.
‘But remember when Jim Hadley would come over?’ Kate said.
‘Didn’t he just want Mom to make him some fishing nets?’
Kate rolled her eyes. ‘He asked her to marry him!’
Susannah had been stunned. How did Kate know this, and why had she no idea?
‘You’ve always got your head buried in a book,’ Kate explained to Susannah. ‘You never see anything going on. Even if it’s right in front of you.’
Susannah remembered the times Jim Hadley had come over, about a year before. It was true, he’d brought them way too many lobsters, and had seemed to need to talk to their mother about his fishing nets an awful lot.
‘Well, Mom said no, of course,’ Kate said. ‘And thank goodness, he’s not near good enough for her – but with the Olsens always hanging round, no other man on the island wants to come near her.’
Susannah hadn’t even considered their mother might find someone else. What she disliked about the Olsens’ visits was their pity. ‘Poor fatherless girls,’ on the lips of Gramps Olsen all the time. Aunt Marjorie would bring piles of either her ancient very old-fashioned clothes which hung off them, or even worse, cast-off dresses from her own girls, which was mortifying when everybody in school knew they were wearing Lottie and Laura Olsen’s hand-me-downs.
Outside the library now, Susannah stood up. That was it. She’d just have to gather the blueberries herself, although it was Kate who was bringing the containers for collecting them. However, just as she was crossing Atlantic Avenue, she heard her sister call her name. Turning around, she saw Kate running to catch up with her. To Susannah’s annoyance, by Kate’s side was Matthew Young, looking very pleased with himself as he carried the blueberry baskets.
There was no denying Matthew Young had matured into a very good-looking boy. Blue eyes, with tanned skin unmarked by any teenage spots, and fair hair, thick and curly. But Susannah still harboured a deep dislike for him.
‘Sorry, Susie,’ Kate said breathlessly as they caught up with her. ‘I bumped into Matthew and we got talking.’
‘You know I’ve got more study to do tonight,’ Susannah said, giving Matthew a scowl as she took one of the baskets from him.
‘But Matthew said he’d help us collect,’ Kate said as they followed the path into the woods.
Susannah felt even more annoyed now. This was something she and Kate did together every year. She didn’t want this boy being part of it. Kate was different when she was around boys. She could be quite giggly and silly, and it irritated Susannah because she knew Kate was cleverer than that. Why did she pretend to be dumb whenever she liked a boy?
There wasn’t room for the three of them to walk together on the path, so Kate and Matthew walked ahead and Susannah trailed behind. Already, she was being excluded. With her blonde hair and big smile, Kate was one of the most popular girls at school. It felt as if ever since Kate had turned sixteen the year before, all
she was interested in was boys. Susannah was just less than a year older than Kate, and yes, there were times when she wondered about boys, but while her sister attracted so much attention, Susannah was completely ignored. She knew it was because Kate was prettier, although her sister was far from vain.
‘I can’t wait until school’s out for the summer,’ Kate trilled up ahead. ‘It’s so hard being stuck inside when all you want to do is go to the beach!’
‘Summer’s our busy time,’ Matthew said. ‘Lobster fishing with my dad. It’s when we make all the money.’
‘Do you make lots and lots?’ Kate giggled.
‘Oh boy, it’s unreal,’ Matt said proudly. ‘That’s why I ain’t coming back to school next year.’
Susannah gave the back of Matthew’s head a scathing look. Typical island logic. All the boys dropped out early to lobster fish, enticed by the cash prize.
‘It’s a good living,’ Matt continued, in his attempt to impress Kate. ‘But you work darn hard, I can tell you.’
‘I bet you do,’ Kate said in admiration. ‘Thanks for helping out today.’
‘Aw, I like hanging out with you, Kate, is all,’ Matt said.
Susannah narrowed her eyes as she saw him put his hand under Kate’s elbow to help her clamber up some of the granite slabs.
The bushes were brimming with ripe blueberries. It didn’t take long to fill their baskets. Afterwards, the three of them climbed up to the top of Amherst to the lookout point where Matt said his dad used to watch for U-boats during the war.
‘Told me one time he saw one and called the number he was given. The planes came and sunk it,’ he said, all proud. ‘Down at the bottom of the sea off Vinalhaven, there’s at least one U-boat full of dead Germans.’
‘Oh, that’s horrible,’ Kate squealed.
‘Yeah.’ Matthew shivered. ‘Not the end I’d want.’
The three of them sat down on the granite plateau. Kate lay back and spread her arms wide, as if to invite the sun in. Susannah couldn’t help notice Matthew Young looking at her sister. She was wearing one of the Olsen cast-off dresses and it was a little too small for her. The yellow bud print was strained across her chest and was far too revealing. Susannah glanced away. Stared out to sea. Tried not to think about the way Matthew was looking at her sister.
She couldn’t help herself, though. With a backward glance, Susannah could see Matthew had lain down on the rock next to Kate and was whispering things to her, which were making her sister giggle. The two of them locked in their own secret intimacy. Susannah felt awkward. She knew their mother would be furious with Kate for being so familiar with a boy, and yet she felt like she was the one in the wrong, because she was so different from Kate’s friends Annie and Rachel, and all the other girls in their high school. Any of them would be thrilled to have the admiration of a good-looking boy like Matthew Young, but Susannah saw beyond his charm. There was a hardness in his eyes behind the smile which she didn’t like.
Matthew said something obviously hilarious, which Susannah couldn’t hear because Kate burst out laughing. But it wasn’t a real belly laugh. It was a silly, girly, showy-off laugh. It made Susannah mad. She stood up all of a sudden, almost knocking over her basket of blueberries.
‘Come on, Kate,’ she said. ‘We need to get started on the blueberry jelly. It has to set for tomorrow.’
‘But it’s so lovely here, with the sun on the rocks.’ Kate squinted up at her. ‘We’ve plenty of time.’
‘I’ve got study to do.’
Kate groaned. ‘You’re always studying, Susie. It’s boring.’
Susannah knew Kate was just showing off to stupid Matthew, because in private she’d told her how proud she was, and that Susannah mustn’t give up ever on her dream of going to college. Still, her sister’s words hurt her now. Why did she change so much when this boy was around?
‘Why don’t you go study?’ Matt piped up, giving her a sly look. ‘I’ll walk Kate back with all the blueberries.’
‘I shan’t be long,’ Kate promised.
‘I don’t think Ma will like you to—’
‘I’ll look after her,’ Matt interrupted, and the look he gave her made Susannah feel as if he’d like to push her off the granite, right into the bottom of the sea to end up beside all those German soldier bones.
Susannah huffed, sounding tough but feeling shaken. ‘Well, give me the blueberries then,’ she said, snatching Kate’s basket. ‘I need to make a start on the jelly. And don’t blame me if you get into trouble!’
She turned on her heel and stomped off, climbing down the rock towards the road. She tried her best not to care, but she couldn’t stop the tears from welling up. She dashed them away from her eyes in annoyance, but they just kept falling. Kate preferred to be with a boy like Matthew Young rather than her.
Their mother was out when Susannah got home. She and Kate had planned their jelly making to time with when they knew mother was doing a dress fitting. Susannah crushed the berries into the bottom of the cast-iron pot they used for jam making, before adding water and turning it up to boil. Her tears had dried up, but she was angry now. Her sister knew she was no good at cooking. It was likely she’d mess the whole thing up without her help.
While the blueberry mixture boiled away, Susannah sat at the lacing stand, looking out of the window to watch for Kate. The sun was still high in the sky, light stretching on until late in the evening. Susannah opened the window, breathed in the sweet scent of summer, and listened to the crickets chirruping. It was rare she had the house to herself, and the place felt strange and empty. She pulled her library edition of Moby-Dick out of her school bag, and placed it on the lacing stand, opening it up to where she’d left off. She spread the pages with her hands. The stand was just the right height for reading. Now she had her book, she was no longer alone. She dived into Melville’s world, immediately under the spell of his story.
It was the smell of burning blueberries, sticky and sweet, which roused her. She hopped off the chair, and ran into the kitchen. Luckily, the berry mixture had only just seemed to start to stick to the bottom. She glanced at her watch. She’d been reading for nearly an hour and still no Kate. She felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. Maybe she shouldn’t have left her up on those granite slabs with Matthew Young?
Susannah took out the strainer and tried to remember how they’d made the jelly last year. Cheesecloth. Four layers went in the strainer, which she balanced in a bowl before spooning in the blueberry mixture. Now it had to sit for about thirty minutes. She went back into the front room and sat down at the lacing stand, looking out of the window yet again. But there was still no sign of Kate. Just as she was thinking of going to look for Kate while the jelly mixture thickened, she saw her mother coming up the road. Oh hell, what was she going to tell her about Kate?
Her mother was in a good mood as she came in the door, carrying her sewing bag in one hand like a doctor with his medical kit.
‘What a joy it is to work on Hannah Weaver’s dress,’ her mother said, her eyes gleaming with delight. ‘Her father is sparing no expense. It’s such a pleasure to be able to make bobbin lace for the detail rather than all those darn pool table nets!’
She put down the bag, and sat down at the lacing stand opposite Susannah.
‘Such good people, the Weavers,’ her mother said. ‘They insisted on giving me a little glass of whisky to set me on my way home. And Rachel is growing up to be such a pretty girl, isn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ Susannah said, closing her book. Susannah particularly disliked Rachel Weaver, who was always bragging about her father’s big leisure boat and all her rich friends from Connecticut who came to stay in their hotel every summer.
Her mother unpinned her hair, and let its blonde tresses cascade over her shoulders. She looked younger tonight than she had in years.
‘They’re having a dance soon for all the summer visits, and you and Kate are invited!’ she said happily. ‘Isn’t that just swell?’
‘So what’s that I can smell?’ Her mother gave Susannah a knowing smile. ‘Is Katie in the kitchen, working her magic?’ She got up and went towards the kitchen.
‘It’s a surprise!’ Susannah exclaimed, trying to stop her mother from going in.
Her mother turned and smiled again. ‘Sure it is,’ she said. ‘So sweet of you girls.’
Susannah followed her mother into the kitchen. She hadn’t noticed what a mess she’d made until now, when she saw all the spoons and bowls placed about the table.
‘I’ll clean up,’ she said. ‘I haven’t finished yet.’
‘But where’s Katie?’ her mother asked.
Susannah didn’t even consider telling her mother the truth. If she knew her youngest daughter was on her own with a boy, she would be furious – and most likely blame Susannah for leaving Kate behind on Amherst.
‘She’s taken some blueberries over to Aunt Marjorie,’ Susannah lied. ‘She’ll be back soon.’
‘So did you make this on your own, Susannah?’ Her mother gave her a curious look.
‘Yes,’ Susannah said, pouring the strained mixture back into the iron pot and measuring out sugar.
‘Well, I sure am impressed you remembered the recipe on your own,’ her mother said, taking an apron off the peg and handing it to her. ‘You’d better put this on, darling. Blueberries make the darnedest stains.’ She put the apron on over Susannah’s head and tied it tight around her waist. ‘You’re a good girl, Susannah,’ she said, kissing the top of her head.
Susannah felt terrible. All she did was lie to her mother. Not just about where Kate was, but also about her own life. Her plans for Harvard. All those secret hours in the library with Mrs Matlock. She was almost tempted to tell her right then. Her mother was in such a good mood. But then it was so rare, especially the night before her birthday. Susannah didn’t want to darken her mother’s humour.
The Island Girls: A heartbreaking historical novel Page 6