‘But he’s not good to you.’
‘Yes, he is, he is!’ Kate cried out. ‘I shan’t have you saying those things about him. Stop it, Susannah! Just because you’re jealous, don’t be mean about my husband.’
‘I’m not jealous!’ Susannah felt her blood begin to boil. ‘I’m just trying to help.’
‘Well, you’re not. Just leave me alone. How could you suggest such a thing?’
‘He’s cruel, Katie, and he’s ignorant.’
‘Shut up, will you? Just get out, now!’
Susannah stormed out of the room and up the stairs. She and Kate had never ever fought before. Her sister had said terrible things to her. It dawned on her: Matthew Young had finally won. She’d lost Kate. Would she ever get her sister back?
Ava was still fast asleep. Susannah slipped into the narrow bed beside her. Put her arms around her love. Just to feel the rhythm of Ava’s breath calmed her. She felt Ava stir, and then turn, opening her eyes, looking at her questioningly. Susannah put her finger to her lips and Ava smiled. She kissed her on the lips, and Ava kissed her back. They undressed each other under the covers between kisses, slipping out of their pyjamas, and pressing their naked skin against each other. Susannah felt the thrum of Ava’s heart against her breast. It felt as if she breathed in Ava’s love, filling her belly right from the pit of her stomach through her chest and throat so all she wanted was to exhale kisses all over her. The sun bathed them with glorious warmth as the two girls entwined. Ava snaked down Susannah’s body, and caressed her with her lips as Susannah raised her arms above her head, letting the sheets fall from them onto the floor of the bedroom completely forgetting where exactly it was they were.
‘Susie!’
Kate’s voice sliced through their passion like a blade. Ava rolled off her, and Susannah sat up with a jerk to see her sister in her bride’s nightie, staring wide-eyed at her and Ava, naked upon her childhood bed.
‘Oh my god!’ Kate whispered. ‘What are you doing?’
25
Emer
27th October 2011
After Emer had read all the letters to Susannah, it was dark.
‘Are you tired?’ she asked Susannah. ‘Do you want to go to bed?’
‘No, I’m just too agitated,’ she said. ‘All those letters have stirred up so many memories, and regrets.’
‘Let’s think of a way to help you relax,’ Emer said. ‘How about a bath? Or would you like me to wash your hair for you?’
Susannah agreed to a hair wash, and the two moved to the bathroom. ‘What happened to your young man?’ Susannah asked, as Emer brushed her hair. Susannah was sitting on a stool, with a pillow behind her neck.
‘He had to go for the ferry, remember?’ Emer said, checking the temperature of the water.
‘Shame,’ Susannah said. ‘I liked him.’
She tipped her head back over the sink and closed her eyes. Emer wet her hair, massaging shampoo into it until it lathered. Susannah had such soft skin, and her features were so fine and elegant. Within the space of just under three weeks, Emer had come to know her face and body so well.
After rinsing her hair, Emer wrapped a towel around Susannah’s head, folding it into a turban, and helped her up. They went downstairs to the front room, where Emer set Susannah up on the couch in front of the woodstove.
‘Would you like me to style your hair?’ she asked Susannah.
Susannah looked up at her in surprise. ‘Okay, but make me a cup of that disgusting herbal tea first.’
Emer gently removed the towel and dried Susannah’s hair with it. When it was wet, her hair was the colour of the granite she saw everywhere on the island. Emer combed it out. Susannah’s hair was surprisingly thick, and straight. It was cut to just the nape of her neck, and framed her face neatly. Emer took up her styling brush and hairdryer.
‘I haven’t had my hair styled in years,’ Susannah said. ‘Ava used to do it. My friend – you know, from the letters.’
‘Well, I’m not really much good at it. I used to do mine and Orla’s hair when we were teenagers. Hers was so wild and curly, it was impossible to manage. But then it changed.’
‘I used to have long hair when I was at Harvard,’ Susannah said. ‘With bangs.’ She raised her hand to indicate. ‘Straight across, just below my eyebrows. Then Ava cut it real short for me. We all wore thick black kohl to make ourselves look like cats.’ She sighed. ‘Ava always looked so amazing.’
‘Do you see her any more?’
‘No, we lost contact.’
Emer could hear the catch in Susannah’s voice, but Susannah said no more on Ava, and remained silent as she dried her hair. The stone grey hair began to lighten as it dried, turning to silver, so many tiny variations of the shade, all sparkling in the firelight. Emer admired the shine of it. Really, it was so beautiful. Why did older women feel they had to dye their grey hair? She’d always been afraid of getting older, of wrinkles, grey hair. But looking at Susannah, what she saw was a beautiful woman, and in all the fine lines of her face, the story of her life. It was inspiring. And Emer felt sad that at this time she was alone. No family with her, and no friends. Just a random nurse.
Emer turned off the hairdryer and put the brush down. Susannah looked up at her.
‘Were you and Orla close?’ Susannah asked her.
‘Yes,’ Emer whispered, trying but failing to hold back the tears.
Susannah didn’t move to console her, but her voice was kind. ‘My advice is allow yourself to grieve. Cry if you have to. Don’t mind me. When Kate died, I wailed the house down.’
‘What happened?’ Emer ventured, dabbing her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. She remembered all the gossip Henry had passed on. How could anyone possibly
