It was good to be alone for a while after all that talk in the house about the woman who’d been killed. He couldn’t pretend to be sorry that Eleanor Longstaff was dead. Lowrie had married Caroline, who was straightforward and strong. A bit bossy like Grusche, but sometimes that wasn’t such a terrible trait in a woman. Sometimes women had more energy than men and encouraged them in new ventures and kept them focused on what was most important. George suspected that Lowrie still dreamed about Eleanor, and he thought that was a bad thing. Perhaps now she was gone the couple could move on. They could buy this new grand house in Vidlin and start thinking about starting a family of their own, without the dark woman from London intruding in their lives. If Peerie Lizzie should appear to them, it might mean that his first grandchild was on the way.

George had grown up in Meoness. From where he stood, leaning over the gate beyond the community hall, he could see the house at Utra where his father had been born. It was almost derelict now, though it still had its turf roof. But soon the walls would crumble and folk would use the stone to repair their dykes, and all memory of what had gone on there would be lost. He thought of his life as a boy in the islands. Most of his friends had left years before. Many had become merchant seamen and had travelled the world. George could count on the fingers of one hand the times he’d left Shetland. Grusche wanted to plan a foreign holiday now that she’d retired from the school. With Lowrie back in Shetland to keep an eye on the croft when they were away, perhaps that might be possible. George thought he’d like to go to Canada to see where some of his relatives who’d joined the whaling ships had landed. Perhaps there were other Malcolmsons on the far side of the world, who still remembered Utra when lots of people lived there.

He turned and walked back towards the house. There was a little moonlight to show the path, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it was dark. He knew every inch of his land and could have made his way around it blindfold. Through the kitchen window he saw that Lowrie was clearing the dishes. Caroline was at the sink, washing up. They must have persuaded Grusche that she’d worked hard enough, because she was sitting in a chair by the Rayburn, knitting. Three people in the room. It occurred to him that, since Lowrie’s marriage, there were now four in the family and that perhaps he himself had become the outsider.

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen