‘Tell that to the judge,’ he replied. ‘But in the meantime, what’s your tipple? What are you missing, from the outside? A spot of whisky? A nice bit of beef steak? Rosewater? There must be something?’

‘I don’t want anything,’ I said.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ he continued, ‘give me a flash of what you keep up those skirts of yours and I’ll make sure no one hears what you’re charged with.’

I wondered, as I lifted the front of my skirts and watched him stare at me down there, what kind of man would want to see such a thing, for I had only recently given birth. I wondered if this was how Mrs Rose felt to have that horrible Dr McTavish look at her nakedness and take advantage of her. And if there is a place that women might go to in their minds when they are forced to submit to a man, to shut him out. I tried to find it, through my breaths and the flicker of my closed eyes, but I did not.

I would need that place, if I was to stay here.

And if they hanged me, I would need to find it on the gallows.

He dismissed me after a few long moments and I could tell by the look on his face he had enjoyed my discomfort. I went back and sat on the bench feeling violated, even though he had not touched me. I did not want anything he could procure. I wanted desperately to hear from Ma, though, but nothing arrived for me. No message, no basket of fish, no visitors.

In any case I did not have long to wait and wonder at the silence. I was not called back to show my naked parts to the turnkey again. For after a few short days Mr Suttie returned and told me that my sister had been located and my case would be heard in court without delay.

Chapter Twenty-One

My case was heard by a judge called Sheriff McAllister and half of Edinburgh town, for the courtroom was filled with all manner of life by the time I was marched up to the dock. They spilled from the balcony and the back benches: some in robes, some in rags, some with parchments and quills, and some in their cups, for the stink of liquor and pipe smoke made me feel high as a bird.

I was put on a stool and told to stand when Sheriff McAllister entered and only to sit down when he did. Downstairs, before the trial, a young clerk with spindly hands had brought me my creel and told me to put on my best gown, then stood and watched and cracked his fingers as I stripped and put it on, unembarrassed to stare.