Sholto and Effie locked gazes again, then on her command, they stepped over, walking backwards down a slope even the sheep struggled with. Effie saw the factor brace as he took the other man’s weight, his jaw clenched and knuckles blanched as he slowly spooled out the rope.

They rappelled side by side for the first bit, past grass-roosting puffins and petrels, smiling as the birds screeched their protests, wings flapping and bills wide as they protected their eggs. If the factor had been able to sit nearer to the edge, he would have been able to see them as they scaled backwards, but he was now out of sight, blind of their position and actions. Effie had to smile. Sholto could not have immobilized the man more if he’d broken his legs.

He followed her lead with surprising concentration. He didn’t talk as they belayed down to the change point, where the grass became bare rock and vertical; but as they moved into the technical part of the climb, he didn’t pause either, stepping straight down and off the incline so that he dangled in space. Only now would the factor be taking his whole weight, rooted to his spot and braced at a steep reverse incline to counterbalance him. Effie watched from a few feet above as he steadied himself on the rope and was able to find a footing on the rocks, creating a bit of a slack for the factor again. Then she hopped next to him with a smile. They had entered a new topography here with the ground-nesting birds swapped for the shearwater and auk breeds – guillemots and fulmars taking to the air in an indignant flurry. They all cried and screeched in agitation as the two humans moved slowly past the shallow crevices and ledges where they had lain their large, perfectly white eggs; it always amazed Effie how only the shallowest of rock lips and rills stopped them from rolling or being blown off the precipices.

For several minutes they didn’t speak, each engrossed in the thrill of scaling the wall, their bodies reaching, stretching, flexing as they found ledges to grab, moving ever downwards towards the roar of the waves. Occasionally, though, he would glance across at her and they would smile, sharing the moment.

‘Effie, have you eaten this morning?’ Sholto suddenly asked her as they climbed down towards a shallow, protruding ledge.

Effie. It was the signal they were alone again. Just the two of them, no one else. No ‘Sir’ or ‘Miss’. No factor.

‘No. Why?’

‘We could have eggs for breakfast?’ he smiled. To his far side, she could see an egg, just about within touching distance, his arm already outstretched, a fulmar standing on the crevice watching him defensively.

‘Oh—’ she began as he reached a hand towards it. ‘Sholto, no!’