They crossed the spit of sand that attached the land where the kirk had been built to the rest of Whalsay. Theirs was the last of a line of cars. The kirk was packed with people. There were folk here from other communities on the island, from Symbister, Skaw and Isbister as well as from Lindby. Looking for spare seats, Anna saw the blonde girl from the dig and the university professor sitting together; the pews were so full that they were pushed against each other, their shoulders touching. The girl was wearing black jeans and a black V-neck sweater. The story on the island was that her parents were very rich, so Anna thought she could have been able to come up with something more suitable to wear than that. The professor wore a suit and a black tie. At least he’d come prepared.

Evelyn and Joseph sat in the front seat with Sandy and his brother Michael. Anna had only met Michael once. Evelyn had brought him down to the bungalow when he was visiting, keen to show off the successful son who’d made it big in Edinburgh. Now Anna thought he looked rather strained, his shoulders hunched, his hands clasped as if he was praying. Sandy stared ahead of him like a small boy trying very hard not to cry.

People had stared when she and Ronald walked in. There were nudges and whispers. Ronald had paused beside her, but she’d taken his hand and they carried on walking, both looking straight ahead of them. They found seats next to an elderly couple she only knew by sight. She often saw them together, casting peat or working the planticrub on the hill close to Setter.

When the first hymn began Anna found herself crying. She wasn’t in the least musical – she couldn’t hold a tune or play an instrument – but sometimes music touched her in that way. Now, standing in the middle of all these people, the noise swelling around her, she found herself sobbing. Ronald gave her his handkerchief, took her hand in his and stroked the back of it with his thumb. After the first verse Anna told herself she must still be reacting to the hormones and managed to pull herself together. She thought Ronald would find her emotion out of character and rather embarrassing.

After the service they stood in the graveyard. It was neat and ordered, the grass mown. The sun was still shining and the water surrounded them on three sides. The gannets had returned to the islands after a winter at sea and were diving straight into the bay, looking very white against the grey water. She turned back to the group around the grave and watched the small coffin being lowered into the ground. She found it impossible to imagine that the real Mima was lying inside.