‘I need to stay in Boston for a while,’ she’d lied. ‘My job.’
Emer kept walking until she crossed a tiny bridge. Behind her lay the curve of the harbour, pleasure boats and lobster boats bobbing side by side in the afternoon calm. On her left, the land had become marshy, reminding her of the bogs back in Ireland. Everything in America was on a bigger scale – the sky, the sea, the woods. A pick-up passed her, a white husky pushing its face out of the open window, and the driver, a guy with black hair and a baseball cap, waved to her. Everyone appeared so friendly here, in contrast to Susannah. Although the other side to this attentiveness was feeling watched the whole time. Emer had always been shy. Hated to be the centre of attention. Her place had been in the shadow of her sister. And she had liked that position. It had felt safe and protected. But Orla was gone now, and Emer was exposed. Blinded by grief. Struggling to make sense of it.
Tears stung her eyes. She turned around, head down, terrified someone would see her distress. There was an opening to the woods on her right and she crossed the road and followed a path between the trees. Huge boulders of granite emerged from the undergrowth, and as she came into an opening, she realised she was at one of the old granite quarries on the island, where Susannah had told her locals went swimming in the summer. The pool was small but the water still and dark with deepness, slabs of granite around its circumference. She kept going, into the trees on the other side of the quarry pool, following the trail uphill, and reaching out to touch the golden leaves. Although it was past midday, cobwebs were still strung with dew where they laced patches of blueberry bushes. The only berries left were white with age. She saw plenty of other berries – black, pink and bright red – but wasn’t sure if they were edible so steered clear.
On top of the hill was a plateau of granite and a view across the island all the way to the distant sea. Emer read a plaque about it having been a lookout point for U-boats during the Second World War. Spreading her coat on the granite plateau, Emer sat down, and drew her knees to her chest, trying to contain the sorrow. The tears came all the same. She had never got to say goodbye to Orla. She would give up every moment of happiness in her future if she could share one more hour with her sister. But Orla was gone, just like their mam. Daddy now had Sharon. Emer was sisterless, motherless, all alone. And despite the fact Lars kept trying to contact her, she couldn’t have him, could she? It was because of Lars she’d let Orla down, when her sister had needed her the most. How could it ever work out with him now?
Emer dawdled as she continued on her way to the grocery store. She took a look at the old netting factory, now a garage, before continuing up to the old church and the library. She didn’t think she’d been in a library since she was at nursing college in Dublin, five years ago now. As she walked up the steps, she noticed the pick-up which had passed her earlier with the white husky still sitting in the front, gazing at her as she pushed the door open and walked inside.
The hush of the library felt sacred. She wandered through the stacks, not really knowing what she was looking for. Orla had read a lot. Said words inspired her art. But Emer wasn’t like her sister. All she wanted from books, and films too, was to escape. A few hours away from work and all the drama she saw every day in the hospital. The only title she recognised on the shelves was Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. A girl in love with a vampire. That would do. A story to take her away from her own reality. She took the book off the shelf and made her way to the counter. ‘I’d like to join the library,’ she said.
‘Sure,’ the librarian said. She was quite young, not much older than Emer, with John Lennon glasses and long brown hair. ‘Are you living on the island?’ The librarian took her glasses off, had a good look at her. Emer felt herself blushing. ‘Oh, I bet you’re the nurse who’s minding Susannah Olsen, aren’t you?’
Emer nodded.
‘How’s she getting on? I’ve been meaning to call over but she’s not the most social of ladies. Still, Susannah’s an important part of our community.’
‘She’s doing fine,’ Emer said. What could she say? She’s dying, slowly?
As the librarian introduced herself – ‘Peggy Steel, pleased to meet you’ – Emer recognised the owner of the pick-up with the white husky as he came up to the counter with a big stack of books. She sensed him listening to Peggy’s continued interrogation – where was Emer from? How long had she been in the States? Where had she lived before she came to Vinalhaven? Emer tried to keep it short, but Peggy the librarian clearly craved a chat.
‘Hey, Henry, you met Susannah’s Olsen’s nurse? Your name is Emma, right?
‘No, Emer.’
‘So Emma here is from Ireland, Henry.’
‘That so? Beautiful, Ireland,’ said Henry, giving her an appreciative look. ‘Well, good for you; Susannah Olsen is something else.’
‘Susannah used to be Vinalhaven’s librarian,’ Peggy said. ‘Going on thirty-odd years. She trained me in!’
‘I remember going to her reading circle for kids,’ Henry told them. ‘She got me reading all the greats, but I was only interested in the cooking books.’
‘Henry here runs one of the restaurants on Vinalhaven,’ Peggy enthused. ‘It’s called The Haven. You might have seen it on the way through town.’
‘It’s closed for the season now,’ Henry said. ‘Got
