‘Sorry, out of order. He was a good guy but he had these crazy moments. Remember that time, Ross, we were all pissed after a late night and he suddenly got kind of weird and forced us to agree the three of us would head down under the next day. I didn’t even have a bloody clue where he was from – New Zealand, was it?’

Ross shook his head. ‘Australia.’

‘So, you can’t remember anything else about him,’ said Fiona. ‘Did he mention his family?’

Debs shook her head and took another swig from her can. ‘Better get on. Presume you need onions peeling?’

‘Yeah, cheers, Debs.’ Ross leant back on his seat. ‘She never cries when she peels onions, so I get her to do a whole bag before service. Chops them too. Me, I’m crying like a baby if I go near a raw onion.’

Fiona smiled. ‘So you don’t know anyone else who might know where he’s from?’

‘Can’t think of anyone. I met him one night when we were drinking at the Granton Arms. He said he’d done some cheffing so I asked him to join me for a shift and that was it. He was only here for a few months.’

‘But he must’ve talked to you about home? Family?’

‘Not what blokes do, Fi, sorry.’ He stood up and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘But if I think of anything, I’ll let you know. Fi, I’m really sorry but, to be honest, I know nothing about him. Not a bloody clue.’

CHAPTER 11

Chapter 11

Wednesday 31 December 1879

‘That’s a beautiful picture of our house, James. The windows and the pillars at the front door are so exact. Thank you. Can you draw me another please? Perhaps the Donaldsons’ house next door?’

‘I will try, Mamma, although theirs is not as easy. Pappa told me ours has classical lines, theirs does not, it is not symmetrical. But I shall try.’

Ann ruffled her son’s hair. ‘Good boy.’

James pulled out another sheet of paper from the pile on the table. ‘I shall do one of the house with the dog at the window.’

‘Why do we not have a dog, Mamma?’ Lizzie snuggled into her mother’s lap as she lay across the window seat, her stockinged feet stretched out.

‘Hush, dear child,’ said Ann, stroking her hair. ‘You should be sleeping. Remember you promised that if you had extra pudding at luncheon, you would have a quiet time this afternoon?’

Lizzie screwed up her eyes to close them tight, then yawned. ‘I know, Mamma, but I am not sleepy.’

Ann wound a finger through her daughter’s ringlet. ‘Then why are you yawning?’ She peered over at James, who had drawn four solid lines for the walls of the house.