‘Annie, it’s good you’ve come to me if you are in trouble, but I cannot tell you what to do. You must be guided by your own judgement. But if your bairns, your own flesh and blood, are in danger, then you must act quick, so he cannot do anything.’ She put down the pipe again and lifted both of Ann’s hands in hers. ‘Here, let me see what you are feeling.’ She repeated what she had done before with Ann, rubbing her hands up and down, as if by stroking them rhythmically she could enter her soul.

Ann eventually withdrew her hands and sat back with a thump. ‘It’s no good, I can do nothing. How can I, a feeble woman, challenge a strong man?’

Mattie lifted her pipe and took another long draw. ‘Elspet, fetch the tin box from the mantelpiece.’

The girl brushed past Ann and lifted down a tattered old box from above the fire, handing it to Mattie. She put in her hand and patted around till she felt what she was looking for.

‘Here, take this, Annie Robertson. It’s been with me for some forty years now but I don’t need it any more. You can use it to protect yourself from any harm. Here.’ She stretched out her hand and placed something in Ann’s.

Ann looked down.

‘I cannot take this from you, Mattie. It’s yours. You’ve had it for ever.’

‘Take it, it will serve you well.’ She gestured to the girl. ‘Now, shall I play for you?’

‘Thank you, Mattie, just one song,’ said Ann, watching as Elspet handed her aunt the melodeon.

Ann gazed into the dying fire as Blind Mattie played another song from her childhood. Yet again her face was awash with tears. She sat sobbing silently as she remembered the past. Yes, her childhood had been hard, tough, but there must have been good times too. People looked out for each other, there was a real sense of community, though no affection. That was why she hugged and kissed her children always. What would her children remember of their childhood? The luxury, the fine clothes, good food, yes… but hopefully also the love of their mother. The unconditional love that she had given her children all their lives. She was determined. She would never let them go.

CHAPTER 46

Chapter 46

2015

The minister was talking about Struan’s life; his school days, the pranks he got up to. There was a murmur of approval and even some laughter when he relayed what a naughty schoolboy he had been, but Fiona was barely listening. She had read the eulogy several times, in fact she had composed most of it with her mum, there was no need to hear it again. She knew what came next: art college, architecture, marrying Dorothy, her birth…