‘Netta and me fought like cat and dogs. She never used to pick me for the games. Do you remember? “Silk, satin, cotton, rags… you are oot!” And this yin here used to stick up her toffee nose and say, “I’m no cotton or rags… I’m lace.” Well, she’s certainly had plenty of lace in her life. We called in at your new place and Polly told us all about it.’

Netta blushed. ‘She’s such a bletherer, Gus, take no notice of her.’

Dixie had brought a box of games for Gus to play with on his bedside table. He was sitting up unaided now and that was giving the nurses hope for his recovery.

Sometimes, in the privacy of her own room, Netta wept at the thought of him crippled, in a wheelchair. How would Peg and Angus cope at Brigg when they grew older? What if he never got the strength back into his muscles? She had seen how his limbs were like sticks. He could not bump a chair down to the shore. How weary they were all getting from their weekly trips to see him. How she ached to stay by his side and play games with him, read him stories and see to his comfort. He preferred to have Peg and Angus by his side.

Why didn’t she get the infection? Why Gus? Why couldn’t he recover in a few days like Jamie Paterson, with nothing more than a sore back? As long as she lived Netta would never understand a happening that shot out of the sky like a bolt of lightning from the blue.

Netta caught Father buried in the milking parlour, pretending to clear up. But she could sense he was skulking out of sight, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. ‘I’ve worked like a navvy to build up this place. Gus was our future hope. How can a cripple manage to run Brigg? Netta… I’m that choked I could smash all these damned new machines! It’s no fair, why us!’

‘Don’t talk about him as if he’s dead and gone. He’s alive and he’ll recover. I know it now. Why should the Nichol family be preserved from troubles? Don’t tell me life’s ever fair… Didn’t we learn that when my mother died and Rae was killed and all that followed? You have to believe what Drew tells us. He must walk again. Drew says half of polio victims suffer no long-term effects, and another quarter have only minor problems. It could be much worse. Gus has everything on his side. He’s so young and he’s fighting to get well.’

‘He’s a good one, that Dr Stirling. I take my hat off to you, you’ve made some good friends. He’s no much of a looker but I like a man who looks ye straight in the eye. You could do far worse.’