The baby whimpered and Anna undid her shirt and put him to her breast. She’d expected feeding to be difficult; she’d never been a particularly physical person. But she had lots of milk and the baby guzzled so greedily that the thin white liquid dribbled from the side of his mouth and ran down her skin. Sometimes she felt that he sucked her dry. She looked at the clock and wondered where Ronald was. He’d put on his smart clothes and gone out before lunchtime. She’d assumed he’d gone to pay his respects to Mima’s family, wondered what sort of mood he’d be in when he got home.

The phone rang. She reached out to answer it, hoping it would be Ronald telling her he was on his way home. A quiet afternoon had relaxed her. Perhaps it might be possible to put things right between them. But it was Jackie sounding excited, eager.

‘I was checking on the time you’d be able to make it up to the house this evening.’ Jackie always called it ‘the house,’ as if it was the only dwelling in Lindby.

Anna, cradling the baby with one arm, felt an ache of disappointment. She wasn’t sure she could keep up the pretence of happy families. She’d hoped Mima’s death might mean the cancellation of the meal. The rituals and proprieties surrounding death were taken seriously on Whalsay. ‘Whenever’s best for you,’ she said. ‘We’re looking forward to it.’ And perhaps it would be better to have company tonight. Otherwise she and Ronald would spend all evening going over the incident of the night before and she might say something unwise, something she’d really regret.

She replaced the phone and heard Ronald open the door into the house.

‘We’re in here,’ she said.

Outside, the light seemed to have faded early and she only saw him as a shadow standing just inside the room.

‘Look at you two,’ he said. He was still wearing his jacket, but he’d loosened his tie at the neck. She hardly recognized him in the smart clothes. He was speaking to himself and his accent was more pronounced than when he talked to her.

How can we get on? she thought. We don’t even share the same language. We come from different worlds. I don’t know him at all.

‘Have you been to see the Wilsons?’ she asked.

‘No. I bumped into Sandy, but I wouldn’t know what to say to Joseph.’

‘You look so smart,’ she said. ‘All dressed up like that.’

He paused, then shrugged. ‘A gesture of respect, maybe. It didn’t seem right to be wearing my working clothes today.’