She looked over to find Lorna MacDonald coming out of the postmaster’s hut, fixing her auburn hair. She worked there sometimes with the postmaster.

Effie skipped over, Poppit beating her by two lengths. ‘Aye,’ she grinned. ‘You never know, there might be some pennies in it for me.’

‘And more besides,’ Lorna said with a wink.

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s a fine-looking fellow, the young one. A smile from him would be payment in itself,’ Lorna laughed, her brown eyes twinkling with merriment.

Effie gave a bemused shrug. ‘I only caught the back of him.’

‘That’s pretty enough too, I should guess.’

Effie chuckled. It was a wonder to her that Lorna was their resident old maid – all of thirty-three years old and still unmarried – for she was a terrible flirt. Alas, the visiting men never stayed for long and the St Kildan bachelor nearest in age to her was Donnie Ferguson, who had no interest in a wife seven years older than him, cleverer than him and almost through her child-bearing years.

‘Who are they, anyway?’

‘Rich,’ Lorna shrugged. ‘If that ship’s anything to go by.’

Lorna knew about such things. She wasn’t a St Kildan by birth but a registered nurse from Stornoway who had chosen to make her life here; she had seen another world to this one and what money bought.

‘Good,’ Effie sighed, catching sight of the men beginning to head up the hill with their ropes, the dogs running ahead in a pack. ‘Well, then I’ll still aim for some pennies from them and you can have the young gentleman’s smile. What do you say?’

‘Deal,’ Lorna winked as Effie took off again and darted back into the cottage to grab their rope. It was thickly plaited from horsehair, supple and rough in her hand. Her father was sitting in his chair by the hearth now – he could never stand for long – tamping his black twist tobacco.

‘Well, I’ll be off then.’

He looked back at her. His eyes had a rheumy look, the whites yellowing with age, but they still revealed a strong man within an infirm body. He gave a nod. He wasn’t one for sentimental farewells. ‘Hold fast, lass.’

‘Aye.’ She nodded back, knowing those had been his last words to her brother too.

For a moment she thought he might say something else; the way he held himself, it was as if an energy for more words lay coiled within him. But the moment passed and she left again with just a nod.

Some of the men were already walking the slopes, ropes slung over their shoulders too. As she’d predicted, they were heading for the easterly cliffs. A small rock stack just out in the water provided enough of a break from the broadside waves for the dinghy to rope up in relative comfort whilst the show was put on.