They watched sympathetically as she muddled her way through the dance, then she sat down to watch. She had been taught Scottish dancing at school but this was quite different. The music was as crude and alive as Alec’s voice had been, and the dancers moved with a supple, contained energy. The next dance was announced as an Eightsome Reel and Jim led Agnes on to the floor. He moved with the same tight-bottomed, flat-footed step as the other men. They danced in a square with three other couples. One of the sequences of moves involved the women dancing alone in the middle of the set while the others clapped. At first it was Agnes’ turn, then a young woman, a little older than Sarah, took her place. She caught Sarah’s attention because she was so self-conscious. She danced very well, but without the others’ spontaneity.

Sarah turned to a short, old man, dressed in a shiny green-black suit, who was sitting next to her, clapping to the rhythm of the music.

“Excuse me,” she said. “ Who is that woman? The one who’s dancing now.”

“That’s Elspeth,” he answered. “ Elspeth Dance.” He grinned mischievously. “ We did all think at one time that her and your Jim would be married. There was some that was against it, but I thought that it would be a good thing. They didn’t take any notice of me. They never do.”

He smiled at her again. He seemed not to mind that no notice was taken of his opinion or to realize that he might be giving offence. She did not know what to say, but he did not expect an answer. The Eightsome Reel was coming to an end.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked eagerly.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how.”

“Jim must teach you,” he said. “ We have lots of socials. I’d like to dance with you.”

He went off to find another partner. She saw that he walked with a limp. The reel had finished. She watched Jim. He came straight towards her, without exchanging a word with Elspeth. He stood by Sarah’s side, watching the dancers. He did not speak.

“I was talking to that old man,” Sarah said, “he seems quite a character.”

“Robert? You should take no notice of what he says. He’s an old fool.”

He realized that he had spoken sharply. He took her hand. “We have to get the Cup,” he said, more gently, he took her into the small kitchen at the back of the hall. Maggie was there, stirring a pan which stood on one of the two gas rings.

“It’s ready,” she said. “Do you want to taste it?”

“Why not?”

She ladled some of the hot liquid into a teacup. Jim sipped at it, then handed it to Sarah. She tasted it. It was hot, spicy, and very alcoholic.

“It’s delicious. What is it?”

She drank the remainder.