‘Has your mother never spoken to you on it?’
‘No,’ Susannah whispered.
‘Oh, Lord,’ Mrs Matlock said. ‘I do hope I haven’t spoken out of turn. How old are you now, Susannah?’
‘Eleven. Nearly twelve.’
‘Well, I guess you’re old enough.’
‘Where’s Casablanca?’ Susannah asked Mrs Matlock. She’d heard of the movie. Everyone had, but she had no idea where it was in northern Africa.
The librarian took down one of the big atlases and spread it open on one of the library tables. Susannah pored over the map until the library closed. By the time Mrs Matlock had locked the door and waved her goodbye, Susannah knew that Casablanca was situated facing the Atlantic Ocean on the north-western coast of Morocco. It was founded by Berbers in the seventh century BC and called Anfa. In the fifteenth century it was ruled by the Portuguese, and then the Spanish, from where it got its name – Casablanca – ‘white house’. Colonised again this time by the French, during the Second World War the city was part of French territory. Susannah traced her finger all the way from Casablanca across northern Africa to Tunisia, and the short blue leap of ocean over to the heel of Italy. She read that it was less than 1000 kilometres between Tunisia and Sicily. Susannah knew all this, but she still didn’t know how her father had died. Where in Italy? Had it been during the invasion of Rome? Or a skirmish with Germans in a small hillside village in southern Italy? Had her father’s end been a hero’s death?
Susannah stopped swimming now, and trod water. If she had a boat, she could sail across the Atlantic Ocean. Right over on the other side was Casablanca. One day, she’d go there. See through the eyes of her father. She turned back towards shore. Kate had got out of the water already and was beachcombing. It was one of her sister’s compulsions. Collecting shells and small pebbles off the beach, leaves, tree bark, berries and stones from the woods. Their bedroom was filled with all Kate’s treasures from nature in baskets and bowls, even in some of the clothes drawers.
‘Oh, looky at my ring!’ Kate declared, holding up a stone with a hole all the way through it, as Susannah waded out of the sea. Kate slipped the stone on her finger. ‘I do, I do!’ She twirled on the sand. ‘I’m going to marry Johnny Carver! He said so to me.’
Shivering from the cold, Susannah looked at her sister in disbelief. ‘Oh no, Katie, his nose is always dirty. You don’t want to marry a boy with a runny nose!’
‘But his daddy has the biggest boat, and he’s going to be the best fisherman on the whole island. Just like Daddy was.’
Kate was always saying what a great fisherman their father was, like their mother did too. That he had been an island man through and through, and his family belonged here and nowhere else. That this was where they had to stay forever. Ever and ever.
But Susannah knew it wasn’t true. Their daddy had been an adventurer. He had gone right the other side of the huge Atlantic Ocean to a whole new continent to do his duty for his country. To be part of history. Her daddy was a man of significance, not only a fisherman. She wanted to tell Kate this, but there was no point. Kate didn’t understand.
As the sun set, the two sisters walked back to the house. Susannah was still damp from the sea, the scent of the ocean on her skin, and her eyes red from being in the water so long, but she felt better now she’d been in it. Kate was still chattering away about her future wedding to the runny-nosed Johnny Carver. Susannah didn’t hear the woods rustling until two boys jumped out on to the road in front of them. Kate gave out a scream in fright, but Susannah scowled. She wasn’t afraid. It was only Silas Young and his younger brother, Matthew. The boys came from one of the oldest fishing families on the island. Youngs and Olsens went way back. Their fathers had both fought in the war, but the boys’ father had come back. Most of the girls at school were as afraid as Kate of Silas. He would chase them around the yard, trying to get kisses from them.
‘Where you two girls been?’ Silas asked. He was only one year old than Susannah, but because he was so tall and lanky he looked almost like a grown man.
‘None of your business,’ Susannah said, as Kate put her hand in hers.
‘Bet they been skinny dipping in the sea,’ Matthew teased them. ‘Wait until I tell my mom and she’ll go and tell yours. Boy will you be in trouble for going naked in the ocean.’
‘We weren’t skinny dipping,’ Kate blurted. ‘We had our bathers on, see!’ She pulled up her top to show Matthew her wet swimsuit, falling right into his trap.
‘Nice boobies!’ Silas howled as Kate went red with mortification.
‘Leave us alone,’ Susannah said, furious, as the boys walked in step with them.
‘Or what?’ Silas said, as Matthew pulled on Kate’s damp ponytail.
‘Ow!’ she protested.
‘I sure do like your hair, Katie Olsen; it’s the colour of butter,’ Matthew said, giving it a tug again.
‘Hey, leave her alone,’ Susannah said, giving him a kick on the shin.
The boy hopped back in surprise.
‘Well, ain’t she the wild one,’ Silas said, all sly-like.
‘Leave us be, alrighty?’ Susannah said, grabbing her sister’s hand and tugging her on. They broke out into a run towards home.
‘Run on home, girly girls!’ Silas called after them.
By the time they got home, Kate was in tears. Susannah wiped her face with her sleeve outside the door. ‘Don’t mind those stupid boys, Katie,’ Susannah said. She was anxious their mother would notice Kate’s distress and ban them from going out so
