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Chapters (142)
  1. About the Author
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. NOTEBOOK 1
  6. Brukie’s Sandy
  7. April 1972
  8. 1
  9. May 1972
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. June 1972
  13. 4
  14. July 1972
  15. 5
  16. 6
  17. 7
  18. 8
  19. October 1972
  20. 9
  21. 10
  22. 11
  23. October 1972
  24. 12
  25. December 1972
  26. 13
  27. December 1972
  28. 14
  29. December 1972
  30. NOTEBOOK 2
  31. Brukie’s Sandy
  32. January 1973
  33. 1
  34. 2
  35. 3
  36. 4
  37. 5
  38. 6
  39. March 1973
  40. 7
  41. 8
  42. 9
  43. 10
  44. April 1973
  45. 11
  46. 12
  47. 13
  48. 14
  49. June 1973
  50. 15
  51. July 1973
  52. 16
  53. 17
  54. 18
  55. 19
  56. August 1973
  57. 20
  58. 21
  59. August 1973
  60. 22
  61. 23
  62. 24
  63. August 1973
  64. 25
  65. August 1973
  66. 26
  67. August 1973
  68. 27
  69. NOTEBOOK 3
  70. Brukie’s Sandy
  71. March 1974
  72. 1
  73. 2
  74. 3
  75. 4
  76. 5
  77. April 1974
  78. 6
  79. 7
  80. June 1974
  81. 8
  82. July 1974
  83. 9
  84. August 1974
  85. 10
  86. August 1974
  87. 11
  88. October 1974
  89. 12
  90. October 1974
  91. 13
  92. October 1974
  93. October 1974
  94. 14
  95. October 1974
  96. 15
  97. 16
  98. November 1974
  99. 17
  100. November 1974
  101. December 1974
  102. CODA
  103. Brukie’s Sandy
  104. 1
  105. 2
  106. 3
  107. 4
  108. 5
  109. 6
  110. 7
  111. 8
  112. 9
  113. 10
  114. 11
  115. 12
  116. 13
  117. 14
  118. 15
  119. 16
  120. 17
  121. 18
  122. 19
  123. 20
  124. 21
  125. 22
  126. 23
  127. 24
  128. 25
  129. 26
  130. 27
  131. April 1975
  132. Brukie’s Sandy
  133. 28
  134. 29
  135. 30
  136. 31
  137. 32
  138. 33
  139. Glossary
  140. Note
  141. Acknowledgments
  142. Works Cited

Liza was crestfallen but, determined to gain ground, gave a startling account that seemed to grow more and more fanciful, more and more naked, by the word. It was instantly clear, from Elspet’s face, that the details she’d been given were scanty, the picture incomplete. First she tipped her head to one side and looked at Liza sceptically, but by the end of the tale she was gasping and I was thinking: Aye, quinie, aye.

No drawers? said Elspet faintly when Liza paused for breath.

The bow of Liza’s top lip creased and she snorted. Of course no drawers!

I threw an empty shell as far as I could in the direction of the boatie shore, and resolved to ask Kitta when she came home.

~

On the day before Granda’s trips, we would bait the lines, and at night Ma and Unty Leebie would head off to the boatie shore, struggling with murlins loaded with lines and bulls’ bladders bloated up for floats, or big flat ballast stones from the river. I was left to clean up after supper, to see to the fire, to knit, but while no-one was there to see me I would perch a wee while on the stone wall in front of the lean-to, looking across to the boatie shore. Something compelled me to watch, I don’t know why. In the distance, in the plumes of mist lit by fishermen’s lamps, were Ma and Unty Jinna and Unty Leebie, wading back and forth between the Lily Maud and the shore—the lighter murlins floating before them, the weightier loads balanced on their heads. But I would climb down from the wall when Ma crouched in the shallows for Granda to climb onto her shoulders, to be delivered to the Lily Maud with his seaboots warm and dry. As I shuddered, I could feel Kitta—far away—shuddering along with me.

Before the men went away to the herring, they would sing as the fleet left at night. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want … I can never hear the words of that psalm without remembering the sound of their voices and the way the wind would blow them back to us from the sea.

There was a fleet no more at Roanhaven, no more that comforting choir. Whatever god Jeemsie might have bowed to as he set sail, he kept his prayers to himself.

July 1972

July 1972