Today, at the beach, when she had planted the date tree and watered it with her tears, a connection to the land had begun. At first gentle and overpowered by Ibrahim barging in to hurt her and throw back her things, but now as she looked out at the countryside, it was reaffirmed. This could be his replacement, she thought. Not another man but a place made up of heather and hawthorn, wild cherry and birch. It was the strangest and most muddled of thoughts, but it had a zest to it.

Moni started to complain about the draught. Iman ignored her until Salma said, ‘Iman, close the window.’ She obeyed with a scowl on her face.

Chapter Four

It was time to leave the car and cross the water. They were all, in different ways, thrown by this. Moni had no idea that they needed to cross by ferry, Iman had misunderstood the word ‘ferry’ to mean bridge and Salma assumed that she would drive the car onto the ferry. But the ferry itself was small, a rugged smelly boat just enough for them and their things. Mullin, the man who steered it, wasn’t interested in their misunderstandings. He shrugged when Salma wanted reassurance about the safety of her car and he didn’t care that Moni nearly slipped on the wet gangplank. ‘Are there monsters in the water?’ Iman asked him (she had been primed by Salma’s children). ‘Yes, lassie,’ he said. ‘Selkies too. Do you ken that word?’ Salma noted the softening Iman induced in him, her usual effect on men. She wasn’t jealous. It wasn’t worth it. Mullin was small and solidly built, with white stubble that grew on his scalp and chin. His clothes were dirty and his mood disagreeable. Afterwards, when Moni gave him a tip for helping them with their things, he looked at the coin with disgust as if he was about to toss it away.

The boat was unpleasant, but they were surrounded by beauty. A glory that made Salma feel light-headed. Leaving the car behind meant that she lost one of her capabilities, a bit of her authority, and now instead there was a strange freedom from bulk, the necessary space ready to take in a blast of visual stimulation enough to make her unsteady. Iman, the only one of them who didn’t cringe from Mullin’s proximity and stood near him, began to hear more clearly than ever the vibration of water, the timbre of white, notes for purple, green, grey and the constant low pitch of the mountains. Even Moni, who was never moved by nature, felt grateful that she wasn’t blind.

Disembarking, Salma had to concentrate on Mullin’s voice as he gave them information about their accommodation and the loch in general. His voice was low and she struggled with his accent, too intimidated to ask him to repeat himself. The nearest shops were seven miles away. From the outside, their stone-built cottage looked very much like the picture she had seen online, red sloping roof and green door. Inside, it had low ceilings and pine furniture, chequered curtains and a bright kitchen. It was even prettier than expected. She was relieved. Moni, the hardest one of them to impress, smiled with approval. Mullin showed them how to use the wood-burning stove. He answered their questions. Yes, the mobile phone signal should be okay. Yes, there were other families staying on the estate. In turn, he did not seem curious about them except to assume that Iman was Salma’s daughter.