‘Good morning,’ I said and her eyes opened wider to my happy tone. As I dressed her, I did not sense either loss or gain. Did she realize? Did she feel their absence? On the way downstairs, I was struck with elation and I wanted to laugh. Even Greer, as she passed with her spiked looks, did not touch me.

The days grew brighter and although I was aware that Mary occasionally paused and searched the space around her, as if looking for something that was no longer there, I did not pay it much heed. She would learn soon enough. More than once, at the beach, her gaze would slide towards Gulls Cry and a crease of anxiety form on her brow, but I kept my counsel and soon she stopped, as if she finally knew that they had been banished forever.

We spent hours on the sand and began a shell collection for which Miss Gillies promised Angus would make a frame. Returning from the sea, we sat at the library table until we were stiff, fixing shells to backdrops of black velvet and poring over the library books to copy down the Latin names.

Sometimes, I would glance up and realize how much time had passed and that shadows were gathering. We would smile and I would stretch my aching back, and we would find Mrs Lenister and demand tea and bread.

Later, I would read to her or make up stories, and all the time I worked at drawing out her voice. She would speak in time, I told myself.

The days became the sort I had imagined so many months before in Edinburgh. Mary and I took to the ridge, running between the icy grasses, pausing to catch our breath, her cheeks pink, her eyes naked to pleasure. When my heart paused on my sister, it was with an ache that was somehow easier to bear with Mary beside me; it did not always come with that deep sting that took my breath away. In Mary, I had found more than love; there was redemption. When I caught her smile or pulled a laugh from her, saw how she hung on every word I uttered, I could have cried for the love of it. And it filled that tender space where Clara had been, with a new hope.

It had been a week of heavy rain and we had not been able to spend much time outdoors, but the morning rose to a clear sky. I could hardly wait to be in the fresh air. Mary took my hand and tugged me to the path that led to the glittering north beaches where we caught fish and then huddled against the rocks. She laid her head against my arm. The island felt free, just wind and air and gull sound, natural and wonderful. When we climbed back, hungry for lunch, my heart was happy.