She wandered back into the gloaming and sank cross-legged onto the grass beside Jayne. She picked a blade of grass and threaded it between her fingers as she looked around. The pink light had slipped off the treetops now and the shy crescent moon, delicate as a fingernail, was beginning to peep in the sky.

‘So, we’ve actually done it . . .’ Jayne sighed, her hands still busy with industry even though she no longer needed to knit for rent. The habit was as much a comfort as a trade. ‘How are you feeling?’

Effie hesitated, countless words rushing into her mind, wanting to be heard like impatient children. But none of them could be said. ‘. . . Furious,’ she said finally, choosing the least of them.

‘Furious?’

‘Of course. Aren’t you?’ But it was a pointless question. Effie didn’t think Jayne had ever felt fury in her life. ‘Is this it? Is this what we left our homes for?’

‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘There’s nothing right with it, that’s what’s wrong! It’s all so . . . gentle.’

‘No near-death experiences just to get dinner, is that what you mean?’ Jayne smiled, looking at her sidelong.

‘At least on Hirta we knew we were alive,’ Effie huffed, knowing she was being gently mocked.

‘That’s true enough. We did.’

Effie picked a buttercup and looked up at her. ‘How about you? Are you pleased we came?’

This time, it was Jayne’s turn to hesitate. ‘I believe I will be. In time.’ She gave one of her enigmatic smiles.

‘And Norman? Is he pleased?’ She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

‘As a wee boy,’ Jayne smiled again. ‘He’s like Columbus reaching America. As far as he’s concerned, this is the brave new world we’re in now.’

‘Going to make his fortune, is he?’

‘Aye, whatever that means.’ Jayne gave a shrug. ‘How’s your da?’

‘Quiet.’

‘It’s to be expected. It’s harder on the older ones.’

‘Aye, maybe,’ Effie murmured, plucking at the grass, although that would be no comfort to Mhairi; she’d taken it harder than anyone. ‘I’m just glad I thought to make some extra oatcakes before we left. It’s saved us the bother of trying to get sorted with the stove tonight.’

‘I wish I’d have done the same. You know how Norman gets in a temper with an empty stomach.’

The entire village knew. ‘So have you eaten?’

‘No. Norman had to get to the village anyway, like I said, so he’s going to eat at the inn and make himself known to the locals.’

Effie frowned. ‘But what about you?’

‘Oh, I’m fine. I’ve no appetite tonight.’

There was a silence; for all her outspokenness, Effie knew when to remain quiet. As her mother had always said, what happens in a marriage is private.