Ungrateful, unwilling, I held out my hand and watched as he slid the needle under the skin and eased the splinter out.

See? This way ye’ll not open up the wound any more.

I realised Clementina was looking over my shoulder. That’s the way, aye. Ye know what the quinies say, Fish Meggie? ‘Break the skin an’ the salt gets in.’ Good job, lad.

He smiled at me and shrugged. I felt new and foolish and glared back and couldn’t say the obvious thing, couldn’t bring myself to thank him.

As soon as Clementina left, he kissed my thumb quickly, gave me back my hand as though presenting a gift and was gone before the shock had settled on my face.

What’s up with ye, Meggie mine? said Kitta. Have ye seen a wee ghostie blow out from the hut?

Not a wee ghostie, Clementina barked. She’s only gone an’ found herself a mannie already! Aye, a wee cooper boy—that’s what she seen blow out from the hoosie!

Kitta’s eyes widened and the two of them were laughing and I turned my back in a sulk, annoyed to be singled out and teased. I kept my mouth shut: protesting wasn’t likely to help, now, was it? But later, as I scrubbed a winter’s dirt from the walls of the hut, I thought a little about the boy. He had been kind, if bold. There wasn’t anything wee about him, no mind what Clementina said: he was tall, taller even than Da. And I flushed to remember how it felt when he kissed the place where the splinter had been, before I’d had the manners to feel shocked about it. In a day of confusions, one and then another, this was the biggest of all.

I tried to picture the boy’s face, and it was his blue eyes I remembered.

4

Ach, how I wished it wasn’t Gena Buchan’s place I was taking in Kitta and Clementina’s team. Gena was a legend among gutting quines. Girls said she could do seventy herring a minute. Seventy! What chance did I have of coming close to that? You’re right, lambsie: none.

In truth, I was lucky to be in a team with Kitta. Once teams were formed, they stayed together. But twice now Clementina had lost a girl. Gena had married at Gadlehead last Hogmanay and was in a certain way—and not keeping so well with it. Clementina agreed to take me on because Kitta begged, but she was not pleased about it, no indeed. Nothing was going to be pleasing Clementina Slater that season. Losing Gena Buchan would mean fewer barrels done, and that would mean fewer shillings. Breaking in a new girl—well, that was just a broken toe on top of a broken leg.