‘How is he?’ Flora’s brother David called up as he wound the mooring rope once around the boulder. Effie turned to see who he was talking to – Lorna was coming down the Street to join the welcoming party now, her arms swinging in her usual manner; she always moved with great purpose.

‘Recovering. Still in bed,’ Lorna replied, stopping short somewhat of the beach and remaining on the grass. ‘I’ve moved in to keep a closer eye for the next few days. Poor Mary’s in a state, she can scarce move herself.’

‘I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again – we’re lucky to have you, Lorna MacDonald. We’ve been saying our prayers over there, not knowing if he was hovering at death’s door.’

‘I’m confident he’s through the worst,’ she said briskly. ‘But if you’re all here now, come up to the meeting place. I’ve something to tell you.’ And with that she turned on her heel and moved back up the grass again.

Effie looked past her towards the Street. She could see her father, Mad Annie, Ma Peg and Old Fin already gathered and seated on the wall. There was a murmur of perturbation, everyone looking to their neighbour for an answer, and finding none.

The villagers moved en masse from the beach to the Street, the men more heavily bearded and a little leaner than when they’d left, wives fussing as they picked grass and wool from their husbands’ shirts. They had grass stains on their trousers, some blood too from Donald’s accident, and they smelt high from no bathing or changing of their clothes all week.

The children, all thirteen of them, skirted the group with idle curiosity, sensing that something important was happening with the grown-ups. Effie kept her head down as she walked with them all, but she knew Sholto was watching her from the door. He had changed too, their oil-streaked, sea-soaked morning washed away, leaving only scorched memories. He murmured something to his father and the earl nodded as Sholto followed behind the pack, keeping his distance but clearly intending to hear.

They all stopped at the parliament’s usual meeting place outside Mad Annie’s, a nervous silence falling over them. It was unusual for a woman to address them, but Lorna was a nurse and that carried a unique authority.

‘My friends and neighbours, you’ll be aware of the decision we came to a few weeks back and the letter we sent requesting assistance with an evacuation to the mainland—’

A sound of alarm jostled the group, making them stir as though they’d been shoved.

‘Well, today we’ve received our reply.’ She held up a folded letter.

Effie caught Ian McKinnon’s scowl. As the resident postmaster he felt it was his job to impart news from the mainland to the islanders.