The rise and fall of voices forced her to turn around and head back. Small groups of fishwives sat together on upturned barrels, their hands as busy as their mouths. Shucking off the melancholy thoughts Captain Ross had engendered, knowing what she must do, she hitched her skirts and joined them, picking up a net and perching on a barrel.

Chatter washed over her. There was talk of how the men who’d returned from a long voyage days before looked and how they were behaving. The fishermen were always a little strange when they came home, walking with a rolling gait, inclined to sleep heavily and drink that way too, seeking each other’s company as if being trapped aboard with the same men day in day out wasn’t enough. Some of the wives despaired when their husbands returned, urging them out of the house even while they were grateful for the wages, companionship and tales they brought with them. Others, like her father and brothers, clung to home and its comforts as if they might slip away like a fish from a hook. Though what Sorcha’s da worried about most was that his wife would disappear.

Sorcha was thinking about her da and wishing she’d been able to give the crew on his boat — her boat — more money, when Beatrix Laing appeared and flopped onto an upturned creel beside them with a dramatic groan. She dropped her bags on the ground and folded her arms beneath her heavy breasts. Her face was the colour of yesterday’s storm.

‘What ails you, Beatrix?’ asked Janet, wielding a needle as if it were an extra digit.

‘What ails me?’ repeated Beatrix loudly. ‘I’ll tell you what ails me. Bairns that have too much to say for themselves, that’s what.’ She pouted.

Sorcha caught Nettie’s eye.

‘Who’s earned your wrath this fine day, eh?’ asked Nettie, returning to her mending. ‘I’d have thought you’d no one left to reckon with, having said your piece to most.’

That raised a few chuckles. Like Janet, Beatrix had a reputation for telling people what she thought of them.

Beatrix grunted. ‘Patrick Morton’s lad, Peter, that’s who.’