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Back The Darkest Shore Save as PDF
Chapters (76)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Karen Brooks
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. EXPLANATORY NOTE
  7. PART ONE
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Fifteen
  23. Sixteen
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Twenty
  28. Twenty-One
  29. Twenty-Two
  30. Twenty-Three
  31. Twenty-Four
  32. Twenty-Five
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. PART TWO
  37. Twenty-Nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. PART THREE
  45. Thirty-Six
  46. Thirty-Seven
  47. Thirty-Eight
  48. Thirty-Nine
  49. Forty
  50. Forty-One
  51. Forty-Two
  52. Forty-Three
  53. Forty-Four
  54. Forty-Five
  55. Forty-Six
  56. Forty-Seven
  57. Forty-Eight
  58. Forty-Nine
  59. Fifty
  60. Fifty-One
  61. Fifty-Two
  62. PART FOUR
  63. Fifty-Three
  64. Fifty-Four
  65. Fifty-Five
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Fifty-Seven
  68. Fifty-Eight
  69. Fifty-Nine
  70. Sixty
  71. Sixty-One
  72. Epilogue: Autumn 1706
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. GLOSSARY
  75. LIST OF CHARACTERS
  76. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The minister having got account of this from Mr Cook, he sent for her [and] he threatened her very severely and commanded the keeper to put her into some prison by herself under the steeple least (as she said) she should pervert those who had confessed.

— A Letter from a Gentleman in Fife to his Friend in Edinburgh, 1705

Despite Sorcha’s fears, the constables never came for her. Not that night nor the ones after. Beatrix and Nicolas were not so fortunate. Being in Anster ministering to her ailing husband didn’t spare Nettie either. She was dragged from his bedside and, along with the others, thrown into the Tolbooth once more.

Not a day went past that Sorcha didn’t linger outside their prison to hear how the women inside fared. Racked with memories, trembling as her mind took over her body, she forced herself to knock on the Tolbooth door, plead with Camron, if he answered, to pass on the food she’d brought, the extra blankets and other comforts she knew all too well the women would need. It didn’t matter whether it rained, sleet dashed or icy gusts howled, there was always a group of people loitering nearby. Some would spit and call her names, reminding Sorcha that she too should be locked away. Others would turn their backs, pretend she wasn’t even there. She tried not to let them see how much their venom, aroused by dread and uncertainty, affected her.

When she couldn’t bear the hostility any more, she would walk down the High Street and stand in exactly the same place Aidan used to, willing Nettie to look out. It worked. Nettie would come to the window, push it open and wave. Sorcha would fix a smile upon her face and return the gesture, determined not to let her friend see the anguish eating away at her; grateful she couldn’t see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Guilt was a shawl she donned daily. She should be in there with them. Had not Mr Adam said she was named as one of the witches who tormented Mr McGregor? How she evaded arrest, she was yet to learn. From the looks cast in her direction, the shouts that followed her wherever she walked, there were many who felt she had escaped justice. God forgive her, every time she stood outside the Tolbooth, every night as her slumbering mind took her back to that cold, damp cell and the attentions of Mr Bollard, the reverend and the guards, she was grateful she wasn’t. She despised herself for feeling that way.