As for Susannah’s own dress, the week before the dance, their mom insisted on measuring her so she could make adjustments to one of her own old good dresses. Susannah dreaded the outcome. She’d only ever seen her mother wear day dresses in tiny floral prints, and a winter suit of beige wool. But it seemed their mom had secrets in the back of her island wardrobe, for on the day of the dance she presented Susannah with a little black dress.
‘Mom, where did this come from?’ Kate asked in astonishment, as she picked up the dress and held it against Susannah.
‘My honeymoon,’ their mother said, looking nostalgic. ‘We went to Boston, you know. A girl needs at least one cocktail frock.’
Boston! Susannah was astonished. She’d assumed her mom had been nowhere.
‘It’s perfect for you!’ Kate squealed with delight.
Susannah could feel the colour rising in her cheeks. The truth was, she loved the dress. It was much more subdued than her sister’s frock, but it suited her perfectly. Her mom had added a black lace collar to conceal any bare flesh on her chest. There was a black clutch purse, and a pair of their mom’s old black ballet pumps to go with the dress. Kate presented her with a green ribbon for her hair, bought with her own in Rockland.
When Susannah put on the dress and looked in the mirror, she could hardly believe her eyes. The neat, womanly contours of the black dress made her look older. She liked the way the dress made her feel. More powerful.
There was no need for coats. It was a warm June night, but Kate had a length of organza left over from the wedding dress as a wrap, while their mom handed Susannah a finely knit black stole.
‘You made this, too?’ Susannah asked, incredulous.
‘Sure, honey,’ her mom said, tucking a strand of Susannah’s loose hair behind her green ribbon. ‘It’s an important night for my girls.’
The dance was walking distance away, but the Young brothers turned up for their dates in their father’s Buick. Kate was fizzing with excitement – all soft focus golden curls, floating on organza as they got into the vehicle. Their mother waved them off. Susannah watched her standing on their threshold, arms crossed. It seemed as if she was sending her girls off to war.
‘Say, you look swell,’ Silas said to her. He was driving, but Susannah caught his appreciate glance in the rear-view mirror.
‘I thought you might come in your denims!’ Matthew teased.
Susannah scowled at the back of his head, but when he turned round he had eyes only for Kate.
‘Oh my, you look so pretty, Katie.’
Kate giggled with delight, which irritated Susannah further.
It was the biggest dance of the whole summer and the cause of much excitement on the island. It wasn’t just islanders, but lots of holiday folk who attended the Weaver hotel event. The two communities were otherwise quite separate. Most of the islanders were poor, whereas the summer visitors were usually wealthy from Portland, Boston, or even as far away as New York. The truth was the islanders needed the summer visitors to boost their incomes, but resented their presence on the island, choking up the roads in their big cars and eating the best produce in the store.
As soon as they were through the door, Matthew whisked Kate onto the dance floor. Susannah followed Silas to the drinks table, where he dutifully got them each a cup of fruit punch. No liquor was allowed. They stood awkwardly together, watching their siblings dance.
‘They sure do like each other,’ Silas said.
Susannah took a sideways look at Matthew Young’s elder brother. Silas was fair too, but his features were somehow not as heroic as his brother’s. A smaller nose, upturned, which might be cute on a girl but didn’t fit in with his broad cheeks, and a low forehead. His skin was also more ruddy than his younger brother’s, like all the lobster fishermen. A rough burnt shade between red and brown from all the hours he spent out on the sea.
‘So I near got enough saved up now to build my own house,’ Silas was saying, into the awkward silence.
‘Good for you,’ she said, failing to conceal the disinterest in her voice.
‘You know we own a whole lot of land on Vinalhaven don’t you?’ Silas boasted. ‘I want to build my house a little in from the sea, protect it from the damage of nor’easters when they hit the island every winter. Though I also want to build on one of the islets too. Have my own private island.’
‘That so?’ Susannah said, taking a sip of her punch as she surveyed Hannah and Rachel Weaver’s group of fancy friends from New Hampshire.
‘And you know I’m not just a fisherman,’ Silas said proudly. ‘I’m a hunter too. Best place for deer is inland.’
Susannah had an unpleasant memory of Silas’ slingshot in his trouser pocket that day at school years ago, when she was sure he’d shot down the poor seagull. She hated the idea of him hunting deer, too.
‘I’d hate to live inland,’ she declared. ‘In fact, the only tolerable way to live on Vinalhaven is by the sea. I think if I were to live in the hinterland, surrounded by granite and forest, I’d suffocate.’
‘Well, that’s just plain stupid talk,’ Silas said, looking at her
