‘Any word from the men?’ Effie asked, staring down from the steep grassy bank at Lorna MacDonald, who was standing in the burn, skirts tucked up around her thighs as she filled her pails. Effie clambered down to join her, sitting on a rock on the bank and grateful for the cool rushing water around her legs too. Poppit lay down and watched, head between her paws. The sky was already a burning blue with not a breath of wind, the birds orbiting listlessly. The sloop sat in the bay as still as if packed in ice, its tall, elegant lines mirrored perfectly in the dead calm water, projecting an upside-down world.

Effie half wondered if she had stepped into that world instead, for she felt strangely untethered from her own. After a night in which she’d tossed fitfully, she was moving around and completing her chores the same as she ever did, the familiar landscape immutable around her – and yet something had changed. There had been a shift, even if it was just in her perception.

‘Aye. All’s going well over there,’ Lorna MacDonald said, filling a bucket and passing it to her. ‘Wee Fin and Donnie Gillies ran up top this morning to make the check. The men were right to head out when they did. It’s rare so calm as this.’ She gave Effie a wink. ‘Lucky for us they timed it to take the factor with them too.’

Effie gave a roll of her eyes. ‘Aye. I’ve already caught a supper from him.’

‘Already? Strong work, lass. What did you do?’

‘Showed off on the ropes in front of the guests.’

‘Ah. Stole his thunder, did you?’

‘Apparently, I’m an embarrassment and a disgrace.’

‘As far as he’s concerned, we all are,’ Lorna chuckled as she passed up another of the pails. Effie carried it up the bank for her. She often tried to help her, even though Lorna never asked for it. She lived alone, so the burden of chores fell solely upon her shoulders, but she never complained. She was young enough to take care of herself very well – she could rake, hoe and plant her own crops, milk her own cow and churn her own butter. She washed her linens, spun her yarn and dyed her wool. She was quick on her feet for catching the sheep and quiet on them for snaring puffins. The only thing she couldn’t do was work on the ropes. She had moved over from the mainland too late to overcome the natural fear that came with scaling those cliffs; the ease had to be instilled from childhood or it would never come at all.

‘Well, lucky for you, they left behind his guests,’ Lorna said, now rinsing out a pan.