A few minutes later, Andy’s father came in. He shook hands with Stuart and listened to the account of their walk through the haar. ‘I’ll run you back in the Land Rover,’ he said. ‘After our tea.’

Andy looked at his father. ‘Couldn’t Bertie stay the night?’ he asked. ‘He could go home tomorrow.’

‘It’s up to Bertie’s dad,’ said the farmer. ‘It’s all right with us.’

Bertie looked anxiously at Stuart, willing him to agree.

‘Well,’ said Stuart. ‘I don’t see why not.’

They all drove in the Land Rover to take Stuart back to the car park at Flotterstone. Then they returned to the farm and the two boys were given a large meal of sandwiches, spaghetti bolognese, custard, ice cream and Irn-Bru. The meal was eaten in quiet contentment; Bertie sat and looked at his new friend, who smiled back at him. Then they were given half an hour of play before bedtime.

‘Do you have psychotherapy?’ Bertie asked Andy.

Andy shook his head. ‘We mostly have cattle,’ he said.

Bertie nodded. ‘Yoga? Do you have to do yoga?’

Andy thought for a moment. ‘I like strawberry-flavoured best.’

When the time came for bed, Bertie was lent a spare pair of his friend’s pyjamas and given the top bunk of Andy’s bunk bed. With the light switched off, the two boys continued to talk in the dark. There was so much to say: Andy told Bertie about a ghost who lived in the steading and had been a pirate before he was shot by a cannonball. Bertie told Andy about the fish that he had almost caught that afternoon, and how it was great and silver and powerful. Andy then told Bertie about how his brother had fallen out of a tree and broken his arm. Bertie told Andy about the time he had seen a car reverse into a lamppost.

Bertie’s happiness was complete. He had been vouchsafed a glimpse of what life might be; a life of freedom, of adventure, of penknives, of Irn-Bru. It all seemed too good to be true, and in his heart he knew that it was not true. The next day he would return to Scotland Street and the spell would be broken. There would be more psychotherapy, more yoga, more Italian conversazione with his mother.