Effie looked down to the beach to see the small rowing boat enter the mouth of the bay. The Vaila trawler was now anchored there, along with the earl’s yacht, but the dinghy that had brought in McGregor and his crew had gone straight out again as her Uncle Hamish and Archie MacQueen had rowed to Boreray to bring back the remaining men. It had become a race against time, for the storm was blowing in faster than expected and the ripples that had lapped the beach this morning now broke with a rushing, hissing foam; further out in the open sea, past Dun, white horses galloped. The sky was full of whirling, chattering birds dancing on the thermals like it was a London ballroom and conditions were fast becoming too wild for a rowing boat. It was a relief to all to see the small craft bob and stagger through the choppy water, filled with hulking silhouettes of sunburnt husbands, brothers and sons – the men she had grown up with. Some were cousins, or uncles; others were simply the brothers of her friends or the friends of her late brother. She knew their characters and stories and routines with a mundane intimacy, but while they had spent three days chasing sheep and plucking them of their winter coats, she . . . she had been fundamentally altered, as if rebuilt in a new shape. Would they see it, this change in her? Would they see she wasn’t the girl she’d been when they left?

Further down the Street, she could see Lorna standing by the door at Donald and Mary McKinnon’s house; she had taken the post sack back with her to work there. It would be a relief for her to see that Ian was now back and could resume his postmaster duties; she was needed full-time on her nursing post at the moment.

Effie turned back to find her father standing by the door, roused by the fuss. ‘Will I go down to help, Father?’ she asked him.

He couldn’t very well say no, they both knew – once the men were all back on land, they would need to unload, check and stow the cargo. They would then feast; stews had been bubbling on stoves all day to feed them on their return.

Her father nodded.

Effie put down the hoe and walked slowly down the plot towards the shore. All the other women were holding their skirts and running barefoot over the grass, but she had no need to rush – there was no one on board for her. All the immediate family she had was already on dry land, and his eyes were on her back.