‘I’ve told her, aye,’ Lorna said.

‘I’m not leaving my spinning wheel,’ Mad Annie was saying firmly, her dark eyes bright with apprehension. ‘It was my ma’s.’

‘You won’t need to,’ Lorna said to her. ‘We may all take all our belongings. Nothing can or should be left.’

‘This is momentous news, Miss Gillies.’ Effie turned to see Sholto standing beside her finally. ‘. . . How do you feel?’ He was addressing her as if for an audience.

She glanced around to see who was nearby but everyone was talking intently with their neighbour; her father and Old Fin were walking slowly up the Street, her father having momentarily forgotten about the family shame. Jayne and Norman Ferguson were sitting apart on the wall, both lost in thought.

She looked back at him. ‘. . . I never thought it would happen. I don’t know what to think. I can’t believe . . .’ Her eyes wandered over the bay, grazing over the nobbled spine of Dun, the sweeping slopes of Ruival, the soaring majesty of Mullach Mor and Connachair – an old-as-time backdrop that sat behind every memory of her life. To leave it behind . . .

Tears gathered in her eyes, the reality of it hitting her. She couldn’t leave here! It was absurd. Unthinkable.

‘Effie, I know it must be a shock. I know this is all you’ve ever known . . .’ He cleared his throat, returning with a whisper. ‘But could it not also be—?’

‘Miss Gillies, we can rely upon you, no doubt, to inform Mhairi and Flora of the news when you see them tomorrow?’ The factor stepped forward, making his presence known. How long had he been standing there?

‘Mr Mathieson,’ she said wearily. ‘. . . Yes, of course I shall.’ She was eager not to provoke him this afternoon. He was already known for being bloody-minded, hectoring and ruthless but he had been in a particularly foul mood all day – no doubt on account of the early start. From inside the cottage, she had heard him quarrelling with almost everyone he met – her Aunt Mary had gone off in tears after he criticized the heel turns on her knitted socks, she’d heard him arguing with Lorna over their need for more medical supplies, and he’d even butted heads with Mad Annie as she requested another two sheep. Effie didn’t want to catch a supper from him again. Not right now.

But if she had thought her swift accommodation would appease his black mood, she was sorely mistaken. He seemed almost to twitch with anger, the emotion rising from him like a humming swarm of flies.

‘Well, this is all . . . a great surprise, Mr Mathieson, is it not?’ Sholto asked, falling back on a lifetime of manners as he saw how the official made no move to sidle off.

‘Oh, it certainly is to me, sir, yes.’ The factor nodded with barely concealed rage. ‘I knew nothing of it. Nothing at all.’