Malcy spoke at some length about how it was an eyesore and completely illegal, and there was some harrumphing. Then Konstantin looked at Isla and winked. He stood up.

“May I speak? I wish to name the angel the Malcom Marsali Aoghas Fraser Bert William Effie Angel,” he announced grandly. “And I personally will pay for a plaque to commemorate the full name, to be placed at the base,” he added.

There was some silence over this. People started cheering and shouting, “Vote, vote, vote!”

Obviously Malcy did not want a vote he did not know he could win. There was some private conferring.

Eventually he returned.

“The provision is this: the statue will stay as long as Konstantin undertakes to keep it in good order and to return and tend to it. And make the plaque with all our names on it.”

Everybody cheered.

“Thank you,” said Konstantin gravely. “I realize you are an important man in this town.”

He turned to Isla delightedly.

“I’m not sure you can get rid of me that easily. It’s the law now.”

Chapter 74

T he visiting Norwegians were well used to getting in extremely cold water and only had to be reminded, yet again, that here it was done with swimming trunks on, so they were all up for the Loony Dook.

The children were doing it because it was fun and naughty, and it meant their parents had to do it too so as not to look like wusses.

Candace decided to do it because she had a fabulous figure in a bikini, so any excuse. Also the light and the color of the water and the pale, pale white sand on the Endless Beach made it look like she was actually in the Bahamas, if the temperature hadn’t been 3 degrees Celsius, so she could take lots of excellent pictures for her Instagram. She was getting quite the following. She noticed Iona taking selfies in a particularly fetching spot and copied them exactly, to Iona’s stone-cold fury.

By eleven there was a piper burling up and down the beach and much laughing and bantering and remarks and swearing about how cold it was just to take your jumper off, but there was nobody there—apart from the older members of the community, who stood with warm towels and blankets and coats, and flasks full of hot coffee laced with whisky, and bacon sandwiches wrapped in silver foil—who wasn’t ready to get in.

At eleven sharp, the entire island lined up along the sand. There was a great horn blown—by Agot, naturally—and hand in hand, the entire long line ran down the Endless Beach screaming their heads off and into the freezing, churning water.

Several words were heard that would not have truly passed muster in front of the children, but it was only once a year. There was much shrieking, and most of the children ran in only up to their waists, figured that was enough, and immediately turned and charged back the other way, to be scooped up by adoring grannies and rubbed fresh pink.