The world quickly shrank into one hospital bed where Gus hovered between life and death, barely conscious, while his body was examined, injected, poked and invaded. There had been no respiratory collapse and that was the best news that was on offer. Netta soon learned that information was spoon-fed in measured doses to anxious relatives. They watched from behind a screen, helpless and useless, and Peg fled from the first sight of him in tears.

‘That’s no my bairn in there, that poor waif, all on his own. A mammy should be in with her wee-one at such a time, no forced to sit behind glass once a week while strangers see to him!’

‘I know, Peg, but rules is rules and it’s all for his own good. We have to trust they know what they’re doing… It’s their job to nurse and they say that too much visiting disturbs the children. We mustn’t let Gus see we’re upset. Wave to him and hold up all the presents we’ve brought.’

‘All these toys’ll have to be destroyed in here when he leaves. What a waste! Why can’t I go in and help?’

‘The day he leaves this hospital, I’ll gladly burn everything he’s been given myself. Think about it: that happy day when he leaves to come home. Getting him through’s all that matters now! We must do as they say, Peg. Don’t make it harder on yersel.’

When Angus and Peg went in the following week they were reeling from the news that Gus was suffering from the dreaded asymmetric flaccid paralysis and the outlook was not good for his legs. The fever was destroying nerves in his body. They crawled back to Brigg Farm drained and aged with worry, pacing the floor all night, while Netta stood out in the farmyard looking up at the bright stars in the violet sky, also pacing up and down. It was balmy summer night, the smell of blossom on the soft wind. How could the weather be so fine when they were so stricken? She was in no mood to be lulled by starlight.

‘You will live, Gus Nichol! You will live and get back on your feet. Just keep breathing for us. I won’t let you die. I will die before you. That must be the order of things. Come on, all you guardian angels. Where are you all? Mother… Rae… loving spirits. See that you pull a miracle out of the hat. Do something for your child. He mustn’t die… He won’t. I won’t let him.’

Netta shook her fist into the night. No one was going to take Gus from Stratharvar, from Peg and Angus, tear him from her heart. She was not even going to consider the possibility.