Malcolm had been awake for almost five hours by the time Tommy emerged the next morning. Two of these hours, granted, had been spent lying in bed, where he’d jerked awake a little after five A.M. and lain panicking over what to do about Tommy. But since seven, he’d been in the kitchen drinking tea and reading the paper. There was no work to do that day. He’d helped Robert Nairne on his farm ever since giving up the croft, but the silage was made—they’d grabbed the two dry days last week and worked through the night—and Robert’s son was staying for one more day, so he could help his father round up the last of the lambs. October was a relatively quiet month. The next day, Malcolm would go round to help with repairs. He had originally set aside today to catch up on various odd jobs around the house and do his shopping. Now here was Tommy.

Malcolm tried to be as quiet as possible as he showered and dressed—all the rooms felt so close together in the cottage—but by eight thirty there were still no sounds from Tommy’s room. Malcolm resumed his seat at the kitchen table, but found it hard to settle.

Finally, around ten, he heard Tommy’s door opening, footsteps along the landing, and then the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. Malcolm winced at the intimacy of this set-up. He got to his feet quickly and ran the taps, washing his mug and cereal bowl, and was relieved when he turned them off to hear the sound of the shower starting up.

Fifteen minutes later, he heard Tommy on the stairs, and steeled himself to appear casual when his nephew entered the kitchen. Tommy was dressed in the same clothes as the day before. Malcolm wondered if he should offer to lend him something, but wasn’t sure how. Tommy did look a little better than he had the previous evening, his face less pale, the bruises beneath his eyes less pronounced.

“Did you sleep well?” Malcolm said.

Tommy nodded, running his hand across the stubble on his chin. He said, “I forgot how you hear the weather out here.”

Malcolm nodded. “The wind was up last night.”

“I listened to it as I was falling asleep. You feel so close to the wind and the rain. You don’t notice it so much in cities.”

“More traffic noise instead, I expect,” Malcolm said. He paused, then added, “Cars and so on.” He wondered if all their exchanges would be like this, if in the absence of Heather he had forgotten how to make normal conversation. He said, more briskly, “I have to visit the shop this morning. Do you want to come? We could go in the car, or perhaps get a bit of a walk.”

Tommy shrugged. “Sure. A walk would be good.”