She walked around the market store in a daze now, not really present but partly in the past. Reliving those last weeks with Orla. As she turned the corner into the next aisle, before she knew it she’d walked slap-bang into Henry. She hadn’t seen him coming at all.
‘Hey! How are you?’ Henry said. He gave her a big smile, which took her aback completely. He seemed very relaxed and certainly not annoyed with her.
‘Oh hello!’ Emer said, her throat drying up. ‘I’m so sorry about the other night. Someone turned up at the last minute from home.’
‘Ireland?’
‘No. Boston.’
Henry stood smiling at her, clearly waiting for her to say more. ‘Your boyfriend?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she said, taken aback by how personal the question was. ‘Just a friend, but they arrived as I was leaving… and, well, I should have texted.’
‘It’s okay.’ Henry shrugged. ‘You missed a good night. Should have brought him with you.’
‘Yes, I should have,’ she said, nodding, but thinking the opposite and imagining just how awkward that would have been.
They stood in silence for a moment. Emer really wanted to get away from him. It was odd, the way he was so cool about being stood up.
‘Well, I’ll see you around,’ she said, drifting away.
‘Say,’ he called after her. ‘Want to go for another walk tomorrow? To my number two spot?’
She found herself saying yes. She didn’t really want to, but she couldn’t think of a good excuse. So this is what island life is like, she thought as she walked back to Susannah’s house. Impossible to be anonymous. Henry had known her friend was a he, so she guessed the whole island must be aware of Lars’ visit. Sure, they probably all knew she was shacked up in the inn with him for a couple of hours. What did it matter? But she was confused. Why would Henry still want to hang out with her when she’d so clearly rejected him?
30
Susannah
July 15th, 1961
Vinalhaven, Maine
My darling Ava,
Every day I miss you more and more. My first thought every morning is of you, and my last. I think of you in bed asleep. I think of you making coffee. Or getting dressed, brushing your hair, putting on lipstick. I think of you about our busy life in Cambridge. How are our coffee house regulars? Did Charlie get his book published at last? What’s happening with Sam’s record? And college. I can see you in my head, running across the square, trying to carry all your heavy law books. How did your exams go? I know you will have aced them. You’re going to be the best and most beautiful lawyer! So proud of you.
I promise, I’ll be home soon. Katie had such a difficult birth and Mom hasn’t been well either. They’ve really needed my help with Lynsey. She’s so adorable, but she does cry a lot, Ava. Oh my god, for something so small I can’t believe how much crying there is in her. It has Katie very tired all the time. She feeds for a little time, falls asleep, but wakes up again only an hour later and wants more milk. Mom told Kate she should give her a bottle, but Katie is trying to breastfeed. I do love my new little niece but the whole experience has made me even surer I don’t want to have a baby. It’s so much work for such a small helpless little thing. However, I might be writing all this now, but once I hold Lynsey in my arms and get her to fall asleep, it’s all worth it. I do love her!
As for my brother-in-law, things are a little tense, I guess. The night Lynsey was born he went out with his brother and got very drunk. But that’s what new fathers do, isn’t it? And he wasn’t abusive or rude when he came back, just fell on the couch and snored the house down. Missed going out to fish his lobster the next day, which put him in bad form, and he complained none of us women woke him up. But I didn’t know what to do, Ava, and Katie and Mom were preoccupied with the baby. When Lynsey cries and Matthew is home, he tells Katie to get her to be quiet all the time. But sometimes it’s impossible to get Lynsey quiet and this makes Matthew very irritable. I tried to explain how difficult it was for her.
‘She’s the mother,’ he snapped back. ‘That’s her job. Mine is to get a good night’s sleep so I can feed all you women.’
‘Katie lost a lot of blood when she had Lynsey,’ I told him. ‘She’s very worn out and needs rest.’
He didn’t like me saying that at all. Me talking about ‘women’s stuff’, as he calls it.
‘I don’t want to hear it. Women give birth every day. Look at my mother. She had my youngest sister Annie and was up the next day baking bread for the whole family.’
‘Every woman is different,’ I tried to explain.
But the man is so dense. Honestly, Ava, why has my sister chosen to lumber herself with him for the rest of her life?
Now he has taken to going to The Sand Bar every afternoon when he comes back from fishing, which gives us some peace from his complaining for a few hours. But then when he comes home at four o’clock in the afternoon to sleep, Kate and Mom get in a right state if Lynsey isn’t napping or is making too much noise. I have taken to bringing my niece out at that time in her baby carriage to escape Matthew’s drunken ranting. We walk along the main street and all the
