Those stories of his, or perhaps it was the way he told them—something changed the hardness of my heart for Granda. Did I still hate him? Aye, I did, for wasn’t Crusoe banished to the netting shed still, and did I not remember the bruises from Granda’s seaboot? And much else besides. But hate is a hard thing to hold upright and strong when pity starts to eat away at the edges of it. And the funny thing was: I thought I could see that same worrisome puzzle on Granda’s face when he looked at me, his accursed quinie.

I don’t think either of us knew what to make of the other any more.

6

Not long after Ma came back, something happened, something wondrous, that thinned the heavy fug that seemed to be all around me then. And it was to change all my days forever after. Aye, even this day, I’ve held its sweetness in my hand.

Miss Birnie told us girls to wear our best aprons to school and the boys to mind they washed the mud off their boots, because we were to have a Special Visitor, and Pastor McNab too. Whatever could it be for? we wondered, lining up from tallest to shortest and readying ourselves to sing ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’. We always sang that for Pastor McNab.

The visitor was the Inspector from Aberdeen. Such a disappointment! He came every year, the Inspector did, to do his counting. That’s what we called him: Mr Counter. He counted heads, he counted desks and chairs, he counted how many pieces of chalk Miss Birnie had, and how many slates were in the room, and the books in the library cupboard too. We always bowed and said Good Morning but he’d be too busy counting and writing numbers in his book to take any notice. But this day he stood at the front of the class, fidgeting on his feet, and looked around without counting. Good Morning, we said, and his face oozed out a smile—you know the kind, like you’ve a pain in the peenie that you’re trying not to let on about in case someone brings out the castor oil. Miss Birnie, she was smiling too, but anyone could see she really was happy. Pastor McNab shifted his fierce eyes from one to the next.

Children, said Miss Birnie, her palms clasped together, the Inspector has come from Aberdeen to give out a prize. Yes, for the student who has been the hardest-working of you all.

Well! Nothing like that had ever happened before. We all murmured and looked at each other.