I did. I started chopping a huge pile of vegetables that were lying on the worktop as Ina washed more beside me. ‘I like to get well ahead of myself with the cooking,’ she explained, studying me. ‘But I don’t think you’re here for recipes, are you? The doctor’s not here just now; neither’s Wee Elvis.’

‘That’s fine,’ I said, ‘I’m not sure why I came anyway.’

She studied me some more. ‘Is that right? Well, you’re not like your mother then. Mary McLennan always knew exactly what she was doing. I’ve been thinking about her a lot since you were here. I hardly recognized you. All grown up, all successful. She’d have been proud of you. She sent you to a posh school, didn’t she?’

I smiled. Typical Scottish approach–a bit of a compliment but make sure there was no chance of you getting above yourself. ‘Yes, yes she did.’

‘Aye, we all had a laugh about that. Local one wasn’t good enough for her wee darling. Your mother worked her fingers to the bone for you, Brodie. I hope you appreciate it.’

I was chopping onions anyway but the tears started to flow.

‘Aw, what is it hen, what is it?’ asked Ina.

‘I miss her. I just miss her so much,’ I sobbed. ‘I thought it would get easier but it was always just me and her, really, against the world, and I’d do anything to get her back. Just to talk to her, just to have her tell me everything will be all right.’

‘And would she? Would she tell you that?’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘Well–I don’t mean to rain on your parade, hen, but Mary McLennan wasn’t exactly a soft woman. She might tell you that everything would be all right–but there would be conditions.’

I laughed. Ina was right. ‘I know, she would. She’d tell me that if I worked hard and I did right by people and I kept myself to myself, then, maybe then, it would be okay.’

‘So, what’s bothering you?’ asked the older woman. ‘You know what she’d say; I bet you can still hear her voice all the time. What’s happened?’