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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

It was nice to see them. Better than nice. To get the chance to say goodbye. Escaping had been on her mind ever since the reverend first put her in St Fillan’s Cave. There was no use trying to get out of that infernal dungeon. Janet knew she had to bide her time and, as soon as she learned she was being moved to the Tolbooth, let alone the lower cell, she knew it had come. Did they forget the weeks she’d already spent in this very same room last year? She knew every corner and crevice as well as those on her own body. Admittedly, the window was sealed last time she stayed, but they often used to talk about what they’d do if they could get it open and how it faced straight onto the wynd. They used to boast about how they’d sprint to the water and leap into the sea and swim as if the devil was on their heels — a dog-shaped devil and all.

She grinned and peered out the window again. The men had gone. Wrapping her fingers around the iron bars, she pulled. The metal barely resisted. Stone crumbled at the base and she shook the bars, loosening them further. In no time at all the entire grate had come away and she heaved it onto the floor, then dusted her hands and pushed the window out as wide as she could. Well, she’d no intention of making her way to the sea, not when she had a sister at St Andrew’s who would take her in. There she could lie low until all this blew over. Still, she’d be sad to leave the Weem, her home; she’d worry about her neighbours, the fishwives and fishermen, never mind the lasses. She wouldn’t put it past the reverend to punish them for her escape.

Somewhere an owl hooted and she could hear faint laughter. How had it come to this? Fleeing the place she was born like a common criminal, turning her back on all she was and had been and all because of a godforsaken minister who didn’t know the difference between an angry auld woman who called a herring a herring and a cod a cod and a fucking witch. Or maybe he did and that was the point.

Casting one last look at the dark, empty cell, whispering a curse to the man who put her there and those who’d done nothing to stop him, she hoisted one leg over the sill and froze. Nae. ’Twas naught. Just cats fighting. There was no sign nor sound of anybody now. Only a mad person would brave this weather — a mad person in league with Satan.