It pained me to see Kitta undistressed to be leaving us this time, and I was beset with all the worrying things I had done my best to ignore while she was home those few days. Kitta had told me about Rowescroft House and the long days in the kitchen with the cook, Mrs McBrewan, and the other kitchen girls, Benff’s Kirsten and Lally’s Janet, but for all she had shared with me, there was much she had not, and was not likely ever to. I remembered the look about her when she first came home, the look that told me, plain as flour, that Kitta had a life now that didn’t include me.

There were no tears on her face when she waved and tramped off in the direction of Gadlehead. But she looked back over her shoulder and gave me a wink that would have mortified Ma if she had seen it.

~

Come March, Da and the boys once again signed on for the herring. And again Granda Jeemsie was left behind to complain an’ fish an’ complain some more, as I heard Ma tell Mackie’s Peter when he put his head around the door to see if the kettle was singing.

Mackie’s Peter had been blind in one milky eye for a long time, and now his good eye wasn’t so good either.

Where the old gaak be?

Ma frowned as she handed him a tin mug of strong black tea. Boatie shore, an’ thank the Lord.

Well, tell him from me he’ll be needin’ another mannie for Lily Maud this year. I be too dweeble-eyed to be goin’ to sea no more. And another still, he need, for I hear young Bandy Rossie has signed to a whaler in Gadlehead and is bound for Faroes afore the week be out.

Ma sighed. I don’t know, isn’t hardly anybody left, anybody to go with him on the Lily. Bandy Rossie’s da has been to see him already, aye, and he’ll be down in the mouth to hear about your eyes, sure enough.

Down in the mouth! Mackie’s Peter cackled like a farmer wifie’s broody hen. An’ just when has Jeemsie Neish never been down in the mouth, eh lass? Eh, our Jeemsie’s Belle?

So that was how our year began, just Granda, Ma and me, with Granda fretting on how he would take the Lily Maud to sea when Roanhaven’s men and boys were leaving one by one, one way or another. And when Granda was fretting, that was reason enough for Ma and me to be fretting too.

~

I remained wary of Granda, never knowing how his temper would be. When Ma went on rounds, I would pick whelks after school until darkness forced me inside. And Granda, he was mostly content to leave me well alone, worrisome quinie that I was.