Sandy couldn’t stand it any more and went through into the living room where the men were gathered and his father was handing out drams.

‘Tell me,’ one of the men said, ‘what plans do you have for Setter?’ It was Robert who was a skipper of the pelagic boat Artemis. He was a big man in his fifties with a face that was red even before he’d started drinking. ‘I’d give you a good price for the house. My Jennifer’s getting married next year and it would suit her fine.’

Joseph looked at him sharply. ‘It’s not for sale.’

‘I’d give you the market value. Cash in your hand.’

‘Not everything has a price,’ Joseph said. ‘I’ve told you, Setter is not for sale.’

Robert shrugged as if Joseph was mad, and turned away to talk to his friends. Sandy watched Joseph pour himself another drink and tip it quickly into his mouth. He wished all the people would go home so his father could grieve in peace.

It was almost dark by the time the visitors had all gone, and the lights were on in the house. Michael and Amelia were upstairs trying to settle the baby. Evelyn was at the sink rinsing the dishes for the machine. Sandy put the kettle on and offered to make them tea. He was relieved that it was all over. Soon he’d get back to Setter. He thought Perez might drop by to tell him what he’d found out from Hattie’s letters. Joseph brought a tray of empty glasses through from the living room. He looked more tired than Sandy had ever seen him, more tired than when he’d been travelling out on the first ferry every day to work for Duncan Hunter.

‘I’ll just light a fire in there,’ Joseph said. ‘A day like this, a fire would be kind of comforting.’

‘Do that.’ Evelyn looked round from the sink and smiled at him.

The fire was made and they sat in there drinking tea. The weather had changed and there was a rattling of rain against the window. Drawing the curtains, Sandy thought the wind had gone northerly; a north wind always brought the weather into this side of the house. The baby was quiet now, but Michael and Amelia hadn’t reappeared. Evelyn took up her knitting. She found it impossible to sit and do nothing, even on a day like today.

Suddenly she seemed to make up her mind about something.

‘Robert spoke to me,’ she said. ‘He wants you to sell Setter to him.’

‘I know.’ Joseph looked up from his tea. ‘He spoke to me about it too.’

Sandy could tell his father was angry, though there was nothing in his voice to give him away. It was quiet and even.

‘You won’t sell it to him, will you?’ Evelyn continued to knit, the needles clacking a background rhythm to her words.