‘What happens when we get to number one?’ she’d asked him.
‘Well, the time after we’ll take my boat to North Haven,’ Henry said, grinning at her. ‘I know a great restaurant there. Not as good as mine, but nearly!’
‘You’ve got a boat?’ she said, feeling a little clench of nerves in the pit of her belly, and ignoring the mention of a restaurant. Had he just asked her on a date? Were these hikes dates?
‘Sure, every man needs a boat on Vinalhaven, fisherman or no.’ He pushed his hand through his thick brown hair to get it out of his eyes. It gleamed auburn and magenta in the fall light. ‘It’s real small. Just a dinghy with a sail, but it gets me places.’
Henry was such easy company. Emer never felt any pressure to talk, and sometimes they walked in silence as if the nature they immersed themselves in was hallowed ground. Always by Henry’s side was his white husky, Shadow. On their second hike of one whole hour, the three of them walked together, the only sound the hum of nature and Shadow’s steady pant. Today Henry was more talkative, asking after Susannah. Emer found it touching how concerned he was for her welfare.
‘You were right,’ Emer said. ‘It’s made such a difference, typing for her.’
‘See, I told you so,’ he said. ‘What’s she writing?’
‘Oh, she’s not writing anything new,’ Emer said. ‘She’s a stack of old letters her sister, Kate, sent her when she was away at college, and she wants to type them up so they’re documented for Lynsey and Rebecca.’
Henry paused, looked at her intently.
‘Lynsey never told me about any letters her mom wrote,’ he said. ‘She was always so frustrated she knew so little about her mom and dad.’
‘I don’t think Lynsey knows about the letters,’ Emer said, suddenly feeling awkward as she remembered her promise to Susannah not to tell anyone about them.
‘Don’t know why Susannah never showed them to Lynsey when she was growing up.’ Henry said, sounding a little annoyed. ‘When we were dating Lynsey was still really screwed up over what happened. She was only five when her mom and dad died, Rebecca even younger. Might have helped her if she’d read those letters.’
‘I believe Susannah didn’t want to upset the girls further; apparently her mother had dementia and kept forgetting Kate was gone,’ Emer said, in defence of Susannah. ‘They had to tell her Kate was dead nearly every day.’
‘Oh yeah, Lynsey would tell me all about her crazy granny,’ Henry said.
Emer felt awkward to be talking about Susannah and her family behind her back, but she was curious about Henry and Lynsey. There was clearly a big age gap between them.
‘How long did you and Lynsey date for?’ she asked Henry.
‘Not long,’ he said. ‘Just the summer before I left for art college. But you should have seen her back then.’ Henry whistled. ‘Lynsey really turned heads. I was crazy about her.’
Emer felt a bit irritated. In her eyes, Lynsey was still a very beautiful woman.
‘She was really there for me when my dad died,’ Henry continued. ‘But then Susannah got wind of our relationship and put a stop to it. I guess I wasn’t good enough for Lynsey in her eyes. She said the age gap was indecent!’
Emer detected a slight bitterness in his tone.
Henry turned to her, holding out his hand to help her climb over a rock slippery with moss as Shadow ran on ahead. ‘But does age really matter when it comes to love?’
She shook her head. He really did have the most astonishing eyes. In the shade they were as dark green as the pines, in the light, hazel flecked with amber and bright green.
The weather had turned mild, with sunshine warming their backs, their jackets tied around their waists. They’d parked in the gravel lot overlooking a small lake called Folly Pond. The trail led them across Old Woods Road, before entering wetlands and forest. As the ground began to rise, maple trees filtered into a dense spruce-fir forest. Even higher up, Emer saw ancient pine trees twisting out of fissures in the granite ledges, as if the roots themselves were fossilised in rock. Up they went, Henry showing her huckleberries, juniper and crowberry shrubs on their way, while Shadow foraged in the undergrowth.
On the summit of the granite dome, Henry spread his arms wide and closed his eyes. Emer did the same. Sea breezes caressed her face and the warmth from the October sun kissed her forehead. She found herself swaying, letting herself be pushed a little by the wind’s gentle direction. The life of the forest floor below them flickered as shadows behind her closed eyes. She listened to the birds, unable to make out which was which, but hearing the diversity of their songs: a steady chirrup, chirrup; a lone call.
‘Do you hear the warbler?’ Henry whispered, as she opened her eyes to find the sun glaring at her. ‘He sounds so lonely. Always searching for his mate.’
He stood as a dark silhouette, his dog on his haunches at his feet. Emer had no idea of the expression on his face.
They climbed back down the granite dome and into the woods. The trees became more sparse and they sat on a
