I was born too late, my grandmother used to say. Too late to save my father. I arrived still floating inside the caul; I slipped out of my mother encased in a raindrop. My grandmother, who delivered me, had to burst the sack and let the water run away before my mother could take me in her arms.
I’d heard people say that babies born in the caul were blessed. The cauls were sold to sailors because it was said that if they carried one in their pocket, they would never come to harm at sea. But my father had drowned before I was born and my mother kept the caul I’d been born in, wrapped in a cloth on a shelf. When I was wee, I would sometimes ask to see it. Ma would take it down and gently peel away the cloth and let me touch the soft skin.
‘I was inside this?’ I would say, astonished. ‘Before I was born?’
‘You were growing in there,’ she always said. ‘Floating inside your bubble, kept warm inside me.’
‘Then I came out to meet you.’
‘You did. And I’m very pleased about it.’
And I would snuggle in beside her, pleased too.
Caul babies were rumoured to have powers. We were said to have second sight, or the ability to raise a storm on a sunny day. But I had lived sixteen summers and never seen any sign of these powers. And I was glad about it, because at times like these it didn’t do to stand out. Wasn’t I already strange enough with a healer for a mother, and my knowledge of reading and writing?
Not many people knew I could read. It wasn’t wise to show too much learning, Ma always said. The only person I told was my best friend, Kyla. I’d tried teaching her letters as well, but she was too fidgety and ready to jump up and run off somewhere, so I gave up on that.
Ma didn’t like Kyla. We didn’t argue about much, me and Ma, but we argued about that. Ma said Kyla gave her a bad feeling. I ignored that. I didn’t ignore all of Ma’s feelings – I’d be a fool to do that. But I ignored this one, because Kyla and I had been friends since we were bairns and Ma was wrong.
Kyla was a bit older than me, and she worked at the big house on the estate. The Kincaids’ house. She’d worked there since she was a little girl. Her mother had been a maid there, and Kyla grew up running round the enormous garden like it was her own. But when her ma died, she was left with no one to care for her. The other maids at the big house knew her, and they gave her food from the kitchen and let her sleep by the fire and sometimes she came to us and Ma would feed her. And when she was old enough – still no more than a scrap of a thing – she started working for Mrs Kincaid as a maid, like her mother had. But Kyla wasn’t satisfied with that. She saw every problem as an opportunity and soon she was in charge of all the other maids and her not even 20 years old. She wanted to be the housekeeper, she told me. Now Gregor Kincaid had returned with his wife, and his brother Davey’s son was growing up, the house was full of people again. Another opportunity for Kyla.
Kyla lived at the big house, in a tiny bedroom in the tower on the side of the house. She could see our cottage from her room. Sometimes I’d leave a candle burning in the window and put my hand in front of the flame, flashing a greeting to her. She would do the same. I liked knowing she was there.
The day after Bridie’s baby boy – of course he was a boy, Ma was never wrong about that – was born, I was eager to go and find Kyla. She would be working all morning. The Kincaids got their money’s worth from their servants, everyone said. Gregor was throwing his weight around, according to Kyla. She didn’t like him much, though she never said that out loud.
So I had to wait, impatient to get away, while Ma made me hang herbs for drying and add Bridie’s name to her notes. My mother was a careful and precise record keeper. She kept a list of every person she had helped, and what their ailment was, and what the treatment was, and how they recovered. It was a worthwhile pursuit but I found it achingly boring. Especially today because I wanted to talk to Kyla about women and men – and love.
Eventually, I heard the clock on the church chiming the hour and I looked at Ma. She rolled her eyes but she nodded.
‘Why are you so desperate to be away?’
‘I’m meeting Kyla.’
She tutted, as I’d known she would. She always did when I mentioned Kyla.
‘Be back before dark.’
‘I will.’
I pulled my cloak over my shoulders and danced out of the cottage and down the street to where I would meet my friend. She was there already, wrapped up warm against the cold.
‘Why couldn’t you come to the hall?’ she complained. ‘Why drag me out here in the freezing cold?’
‘Because I want to talk to you about something, but it’s easiest if I show you,’ I said. I looked up at the sky, which was already darkening. ‘Come on. We don’t have long.’
Grumbling, Kyla followed me as I darted along the street towards the harbour. ‘Alice, where are we going?’
I didn’t reply, just pulled her arm to make her hurry. I could hear the shouts of the fishermen getting ready to head out to sea and I didn’t want to miss them. To miss him.
‘Stop,’ I said, as we reached the corner. Kyla bumped into me because I’d stopped dead and she wasn’t expecting it.
‘Alice,’ she complained again, but I shushed her.
‘Look,’ I whispered, peeking round the wall. ‘Look.’
‘What am I looking at?’ Kyla squashed herself up behind me and glanced over to the men. ‘Ropes and baskets and nets are all I can see.’
‘No,’ I said, pointing. ‘Him.’
Loading some baskets onto the boat was him. Lachlan Murdoch. The man I had fallen in love with. Not that he knew it, of course. I wasn’t even sure if he knew my name.
Kyla breathed out in appreciation and I bounced on my toes, pleased that she was seeing what I was seeing. ‘Nice view,’ she said.
I clutched her arm. ‘He is very handsome.’
‘And strong.’
I followed her gaze to his broad chest, straining against his shirt as heaved the net on board the boat. He wasn’t much older than me. I knew he was about the same age as Kyla. But though I often felt like I was still a child, Lachlan was a grown man.
‘Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?’ Kyla said. She sounded amused.
‘I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like an illness.’
‘Maybe your ma can give you a potion for that.’
‘Kyla.’ I gave her arm a thump but I was laughing. ‘Honestly, he’s got me in such a state. I can’t think properly. I can’t eat. All I think about is Lachlan.’
‘And his arms around your body,’ Kyla said, her dark eyes dancing with mischief. ‘Pulling you close to his hard chest …’
‘Stop it,’ I groaned. ‘I told you because I thought you would be helpful. But this is not being helpful.’
‘You want me to help?’ she said. Her tone was teasing and it made me nervous. ‘I’ll help.’
She ducked under my arm and with a swagger, she headed towards the men.
‘Kyla, come back,’ I hissed from my hiding place, but she ignored me. After a moment’s hesitation I scurried after her. ‘Kyla, what are you doing?’
‘Going to talk to him.’
‘I don’t know him.’
‘Not yet,’ she said with a grin, looping her arm through mine. ‘Come on.’
Together we walked along the cobbles at the edge of the harbour. I felt my cheeks flaming, but Kyla chattered away about Gregor Kincaid, and the changes he was making at the big house.
‘Make it look like we’re not paying him any attention,’ she said in an undertone. ‘They love that.’
It was as though she was talking a different language. Who loved what? I had no idea. But I smiled and nodded as she jabbered on. Then suddenly, Kyla stumbled and let go of my arm. She threw me off balance on the bumpy stones and I staggered too – right into the arms of Lachlan Murdoch.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ I muttered.
‘That’s all right.’ He was holding me round the waist, but now he let me go. ‘It’s very uneven here, you need to watch your footing.’
‘I will,’ I said, looking down at my feet. My heart was thumping.
‘This is Alice,’ Kyla said.
‘I know.’
My cheeks were burning. All I could think was that he knew my name. Lachlan knew who I was.
‘I’m Kyla.’
‘I know that, too.’
‘You know everything.’
I looked up. Lachlan was smiling at us both, as though he knew exactly what we were doing. Kyla held his gaze boldly. She had always been more confident than me; even when we were wee girls she was in charge. She wound a strand of her thick, dark hair around her fingers and laughed. ‘We have to go now,’ she said to Lachlan. ‘I’ve got to get back to work.’
‘At the big house?’
‘You really do know everything.’
Lachlan just smiled again. Then – oh my goodness – he glanced at me and gave me a little wink. My legs went weak and I thought I might faint dead away right there on the fishing nets.
‘Come on, Alice.’ Kyla tugged my sleeve and I followed her like a wee lamb. When I looked back over my shoulder, Lachlan was watching us go, his smile wide.
We sauntered casually round the corner and then without speaking, both of us hitched up our skirts and ran. We headed for the churchyard, clambering over the wall as we’d done when we were girls, and then collapsing in giggles onto the rain-soaked grass.
‘He knows my name,’ I gasped, clutching Kyla’s arm.
‘He does.’ I was grateful Kyla didn’t point out that he’d also known her name and where she worked.
I lay back on the grass, ignoring the damp seeping into my clothes. ‘He’s perfect,’ I said, looking up at the sky, which was turning a deep purple as night approached. ‘A perfect man.’
‘No such thing.’ Kyla propped herself up on her elbow and looked at me. She looked very pretty with her hair tumbling over her pink cheeks and her dark eyes sparkling. I often wished I looked like her. I was thin and hollow-cheeked with sallow skin and hair that didn’t tumble so much as just hang limply. ‘Enjoy him,’ she said, sounding older than her years. ‘But don’t waste too much time on him. Men are never worth the bother.’