‘She was a TV producer and she was making a film about ghosts. But maybe she believed in them. She claimed to have seen a dark-haired girl, aged about ten, on the beach by Sletts, the holiday home on the shore. I’m trying to work out what really happened, but I didn’t see any bairns to match that description in your class.’

‘Perhaps she dreamed the whole thing up,’ Louisa said, ‘to make her television show more interesting.’

‘I don’t think so. Another woman saw the lass too. I’d like to find her.’ He thought again. ‘Do you know Vaila Arthur?’

‘She works here part-time as classroom assistant, but she’s on maternity leave.’

‘What do you make of her?’

Louisa smiled. ‘She’s helpful enough. Chatty. Loves the kids.’

‘She claims to have seen Peerie Lizzie.’

‘I know that.’ Another smile. ‘I’ve heard the story many times. It gets a little bit more dramatic every time she tells it.’ Louisa paused. ‘I wouldn’t have her down as the most reliable witness.’ There was another hesitation before she continued, her voice confidential. ‘Grusche Malcolmson was the cook here until she retired. She was an old pal of my mother, so I’ve known her for years. Vaila’s a kind of niece of hers and she drives Grusche crazy with her silliness.’

This was classic Shetland, Sandy thought. Everyone connected one way or another. ‘If you know Grusche and George, maybe you were at Lowrie Malcolmson’s hamefarin’?’

Louisa shook her head. ‘Grusche asked me, and I’d heard all about the wedding. I think she only retired because it was taking up so much of her time. I’m hoping to lure her back as cook. We still haven’t got anyone permanent and she was brilliant. But I live in Yell with my mother and she hates being left alone all night. I’d have missed the last ferry home.’

He saw then how constrained Louisa’s life was. She’d come back to the islands from her responsible job in Edinburgh, leaving behind her friends and her freedom, to care for a mother who made demands on her.

‘So you can’t help me in my ghost-hunting?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Louisa smiled at him. ‘The girl you describe certainly isn’t one of my pupils, but I might have seen her.’

‘When?’