But the words were said, and she had heard and understood them, and the morning that had started off so brightly had been dulled by them. A slap would have been easier to bear, somehow, than being made an afterthought.

For it was clear to Lily that was what she had become to Jean, the corporal, and her sister and her brother. It was not that they no longer loved her—not so cold as that—but they had formed a family of their own without her, and because she did not share their house and daily lives she had been half forgotten.

Wee James scarcely knew her, he was not yet a year old, and Bessie seemed now so besotted with the corporal that she reached for his hand first and not for Lily’s as she used to do. And as for Jean, it suited her so well to be a wife again with all the comforts of a home and loving husband, Lily could not help but wish her happiness, but even so, to see the four of them together on the loch and laughing, making a new circle that was closed to her and private, caught sharply at her rib cage with a sudden twist of pain.

She bent to tie her skates onto her shoes, being careful of the long, upturned blades, and instantly Marion was there, helping, making sure they were well fastened at her heels and toes, and taking both her hands to guide her first uncertain steps onto the ice.

“No, you glide, like this.” Marion showed her, and Lily tried, feeling off balance and awkward and ready to fall.

After several excruciating minutes of this, Marion’s parents came skating past arm in arm in perfect rhythm, and circling round them came back and divided so Mrs. Bell at one end took hold of Marion’s free hand, and Mr. Bell took hold of Lily’s free hand at the other, and making a chain of four people across they went skating at speed, pulling Lily along with them, Mr. Bell’s hand holding strongly to hers so she was not afraid.

It felt like flying.

“See your cheeks!” Jean told her after midday, with a smile. “They’re glowing.”

They were standing near the shore again and Lily thought it possible she might indeed be glowing, for she felt free and alive inside, as one could only feel after long hours of play outside in the fresh, bracing air of winter.

Jean touched her hand to Lily’s cheek as though she would draw warmth from it, and glanced behind to where the corporal was already gathering the younger children from the sledge. They could not stay. The corporal had to go on duty soon.

When Jean withdrew her hand, the breeze struck cold. She looked at Lily closely. “Ye’re not sad?”

At Lily’s shoulder, Mr. Bell replied, “We’ll not allow her to be sad. Don’t worry, Mrs. Morison, we’ll see she has a birthday to remember.”

It was that already, Lily thought, and yet there was still more to come.