A bottle smacked against the pane, glass breaking glass. Izzy and Mary screamed.

Get back! Get back! Clementina shouted. He’s comin’ in!

And so he was. A pair of enormous seaboots kicking through the thin door. Kitta and Clementina herded us to the window and Kitta fumbled with the fire-iron, knocking out shards of glass to clear a way through. Clementina grabbed it from her, swinging it like a sword in the direction of the door. But by now there were other voices outside, a crowd gathering. The song petered out amid blustering and scuffling.

C’mon now, away with ye now, an’ put down that wee glass afore anybody do be done a mischief …

They’ve got him! Clementina announced from the window.

Ee, an’ here’s a nice wee policeman come ta see ye off an’ away.

I knew that soothing voice on the other side of the broken door, and wasn’t surprised when a face with a long sweep of dark hair peered around the corner.

Everybody safe an’ sound in here, then?

Magnus Tulloch was back from Scalloway.

Shaking still, we all nodded, but it was me he was looking at.

Ee, Fish Meggie, ye has been hurt, lass. I’ll fetch some water for ye.

I frowned. What was he saying? But Kitta took my face in her hands and held it to the light of a lantern that someone had brought us.

Oh Meggie mine, let me see?

She brushed her thumbs across my cold cheeks and it was only then that I felt the wetness, the sting of the little slivers of glass that had only just missed my eyes.

Magnus Tulloch came back with water and some news. The drunken fisherman who had followed us home was being taken back to Lerwick and would be charged.

Why did he pick our hoosie? Mary wailed. Izzy began to weep, great rib-rattling sobs.

One of the older coopers was nailing boards across the window and the bottom panels of the door. Don’t know that he were that fussy, lass, he said. Prob’ly just lit upon the first one he saw. Just unlucky, that’s all.

But I could see Magnus Tulloch’s face over Kitta’s shoulder as she wiped away the blood, and he was grinning.

Nah, more like he fancied ta catch himself a pretty wee quinie with a touch of the russet about herself.

And as he turned to leave, Clementina Slater raised her brows and made a performance of fanning her face. Ye’ve a right one there, Fish Meggie, my lass. Best not let your da hear about your wee loon, eh!

It was a joke, of course, and I flushed to the roots of my unfortunate hair. But she didn’t know the real joke: that it wasn’t me who would give Da cause for worry if ever he knew the things I knew.