‘No, Gus, today I’m going to tell you a true story. I want you to listen very carefully and tell me what you think? Everyone’s going to chip in and tell bits of it as well. Are you sitting comfortably?’

He squirmed. ‘Not another Listen with Mother! I’m sick of listening to they stories on the wireless.’

‘No, but fair dos, all good stories start with once upon a time… There was a little girl who played on this beach who was sometimes good and sometimes awful like the girl in the nursery rhyme with the curl on her forehead. She went to Stratharvar School like you and when she grew up she met a handsome soldier called Rae, on this very beach. They loved each other so much that they ran away on his motor bike to get married but when they found a place to marry the shop was closed. There was no time to wait for it to open so she went back home and he went to war. He was killed in a terrible battle in France. Then a little boy was born but the mother was so ill she had to stay in hospital, just like you, but for many more months, and her parents, who were cross with her, had to look after the bairn until she came home again.’

‘What was the baby’s name?’ There was a cough and then Auntie Netta whispered, ‘Gus…’

‘But that’s my name!’

‘Yes, and it was me who had to go into the hospital… I just couldn’t look after you.’ Auntie Netta bent her head.

‘I hate hospital. If I’m naughty, do I have to go back?’ Peg dropped her knitting, shook her head and continued the tale.

‘So we brought down the old crib from the loft and you lived with us. I wasn’t able to have a bairn of ma own so you were very special… After a while everyone thought of you as our wee son, not Netta’s bairn. And that’s how it’s stayed.’ Then Father leaned forward to add his piece.

‘We didn’t know if Netta would be fit to look after you herself but she came back as soon as she was well to take you away. We couldn’t let her take you away so she had to go and find somewhere to live all by herself.’