‘That sounds exciting. Don’t get bogged down here in the sand… a body could grow comfortable in this lotus eater’s pasture of milk and honey. London or any city’s full of sharp edges to cut you down to size. I bet you’ve never been further than Carlisle in your life!’

‘I have so… to Edinburgh once, and Dumfries and Ayr!’

‘Ah-hah! The joys of Ayr on a wet Fair weekend.’ He was mocking her again and Netta rose to the bait, standing up to go.

‘If you’re going to make fun of me every time we meet… We can’t all be fancy artists with cut-glass accents, Corporal Hunter. I should have thought, with all your airs, you’d be a Captain by now!’

‘Ouch! I can see I’m going to have to teach you to see the jokes in my patter, Miss Nettie Thimble.’

‘So Dougie told you my nickname? I prefer Netta or Jeanette.’

‘And I’m just Rae. Will you write to me and let me visit you again, Jeanette? Here take this sketch… It must be your mother you’ve to thank for such cheekbones, certainly not yer pa!’

Suddenly Netta felt old maidish and silly for being so touchy with him. She didn’t know what to make of this tousle-haired man with his long legs and beautiful hands, but one thing was for certain: she wanted to see him again.

*

He came to Brigg Farm a month later for a third-degree grilling by Peg and Angus, and was found wanting in every department. They had heard he was an unsettling influence on Dougie Mackay: an atheist by all accounts who was tempting the Minister’s son into doubts. Before the war he’d had Conchie leanings and came into the regiment late. He had no immediate prospects to support a family and his pedigree was dubious. It was rumoured his aunt, who’d never married, was very mannish and lived in some reclusive mansion with a female companion. They had been found dead in suspicious circumstances.

Peg was polite enough and brought out the best china: always a bad sign in Netta’s eyes. The meal was strained, punctuated by Father asking awkward questions about Rae’s army career and the preparations for the Big Push which everyone hoped would not be far away. The farmer would have been happier if Rae had been one of the Galloway lads in the Fifth Battalion, now training as an Airborne Division.

*

How Rae managed to get the petrol for the long journey from his barracks, Netta never dared ask. Sometimes he drove through the night for a few hours of precious leave together and brought a tent to rough it down by the beach or in a barn, not wanting to overdo the hospitality now wearing thin at the Manse. Netta was furious that Peg and Father refused to encourage his visits by inviting him to stay at Brigg Farm.