after all. Only the parents who were frightened of her.
In the bathroom Sally looked at herself in the mirror over the sink. Smiled. The zit on the side of her nose had gone. Monday morning and she felt OK. The stomach cramps, the migraine, the panic of the old days had gone.
Now she almost looked forward to going to school and meeting everyone. She stood in the shower and tilted back her head so she could wash her hair.
Over breakfast her mother seemed distracted. She'd allowed the porridge to stick to the pan and there was no bread left in the freezer for toast. Sally poured muesli into a bowl, added milk, dreamed of Up Helly Aa. It would be a great night for Robert, supporting his father as the Guizer Jarl, following him in the procession through the streets of Lerwick and around the community halls. She should be with him.
Of course she'd be in town for the procession and the burning of the galley. That wasn't a problem. Her parents had taken her into Lerwick to see the spectacle since she was a baby. But as soon as the fire died down they would want her to leave town and go home with them. 'Tomorrow night there was no way she'd be back in Ravenswick, tucked up in bed in the school house by ten o'clock. No way.
'I'm babysitting for Mrs Hunter again tonight!
'Oh?' Margaret was at the sink, scrubbing the burnt pan. Her bare elbows looked red and bony like uncooked chicken thighs. Sally wasn't even sure her mother had taken in the words. Radio Shetland was on in the background.
An excited voice, male but high-pitched, was giving the weather forecast for the following night.
'She asked if I could stop in straight from school, give Cassie her tea while she gets ready to go out. She'll leave me something to eat. Is that OK with you?' 'I don't see why not!
It was unexpectedly easy. There were no questions, no sarcastic comments about Fran's parenting skills. It crossed Sally's mind that there might be something wrong with her mother. The menopause maybe. When did that happen? Was her mother the right age? She didn't dwell on the possibility for long. She had other things to think about. Although it was early for the bus she left the house before her mother could change her mind.
First lesson was English with Mr Scott. They were still doing
They'd had to write an essay for Mr Scott about Lady Macbeth and her relationship with her husband.
Last term she'd have been a wreck waiting for it to be handed back, gabbing away about nothing to whoever would listen to her, just so she wouldn't think about what he would say. Now there was just a sort of curiosity about what the teacher had made of it. It wasn't as if he'd lay into her about it even if it was crap. Scott wasn't so bad, she thought. Not sexy like Robert, but gentle, sensitive. Catherine had been hard on him.
Now he sat on her table, just as he'd used to sit on Catherine's. His hand, rested flat on the wood supporting himself, was very close to hers. He was wearing the old man's jacket and she could smell the wool. 'An excellent piece of writing, Sally. Some very interesting points. You really seem to have found your voice this term. Perhaps I can recommend some extra reading!
Beside her she knew that Lisa was smirking.
They'd all take the piss at break in the house room, but she couldn't help being flattered.
'Thank you, Mr Scott
That'd be great!
All day the school felt different, like they were small kids again in the build-up to Christmas. That slightly manic air. Everyone with too much energy and not being able to concentrate. It was all about Up Helly Aa. The sixth years mocked the whole thing, but even in their house room there was a suppressed excitement, a collective silliness. At lunchtime they had a go at her as she'd expected. 'Scottie really fancies you,' Lisa said. 'You can tell!
Then someone said. 'You want to watch it. He really fancied Catherine and look what happened to her! And the room went quiet for a moment until James Sinclair threw the remains of his sandwich at Simon Fletcher and chaos broke out again.
Sally didn't have a lesson last thing and walked into town, to the hall where they were putting the final touches to the galley. Robert was already there. He looked as if he'd been there all day. He had splashes of varnish in his hair. Although they had arranged to meet, he seemed briefly shocked to see her and she wondered what was the matter with the people she knew at the moment – her mother, Robert, even her father. They all seemed wrapped up in their own dreams or preoccupations so the demands of everyday life seemed to come as a surprise.
She thought the galley looked stunning. It was enormous and the dragon's head at the prow reared up over her, its flared painted nostrils and fiery eyes somehow hypnotic, pulling her attention. Robert grinned. He took a horned helmet from a shelf beside him and put it on, then held the shield across his breast.
'Well? What do you think? My dad gets back later. I want everything perfect for him!
She thought he was like a little boy showing off. A picture of Mr Scott reading Shakespeare to them came into her head and she wondered in a fleeting, disloyal moment if perhaps Robert wasn't the right person for her after all.
Then she saw how magnificent he looked, with his blond beard and blond hair. How could Scott compete with that?
He held the shield high above his head and she thought how strong he was. He'd be able to lift her aloft just as easily, snap her wrist with one of his hands.
'I'm babysitting again tonight. Will you be able to make it? I told you. Remember?'
She saw from the moment of confusion on his face that he'd forgotten all about it.
'I'm not sure: he said, keeping his voice low.
'There's a last-minute meeting of the squad. The official photograph. My dad will need me. He trusted me to look after things while he was away. But we can be together tomorrow. I've got you a ticket for one of the halls. But tonight? You know how it is. I have to be there!
No, she thought. I don't know how it is.
'Please! She reached up and touched his face, then kissed him quickly on the mouth, pushing the point of her tongue between his lips. She saw him look over her shoulder at the two men working on the galley. They were crouched in the hull fitting the base of the mast into its casing and didn't see. What does it matter to him? she thought. I have my parents to worry about, but he's an adult, free. Why does he want to keep this secret?
'I'll try to get there later,' he said. She couldn't tell if he'd really try or if he would have promised anything then to get rid of her.
In the end she was back at school in time to get the bus home, and she didn't need the cover she'd made up that morning to explain her absence. But she couldn't face her mother, who would be even more bad-tempered after a day of hyperactive children. Sally could remember what it was like in the primary school just before Up Helly Aa -
all the kids going wild, beating each other up with cardboard swords. Her mother would be in a foul mood. She got off the bus on the main road and went to Fran's anyway.
'I thought I could give Cassie her tea and you'd have the chance to get ready in peace,' she said, standing on the doorstep, a model babysitter, eager to please. 'If you'd like me to. I haven't much homework tonight! This was the story she'd given her mother. Sally was a good liar, knew the importance of sticking to the same untruth. And of getting corroboration whenever possible. 'But I can come back later if you want.'
'No,' Fran opened the door to let her in. 'That'd be great. Cassie's as high as a kite. I've promised to take her into Lerwick tomorrow for Up Helly Aa. Her first time. Will you be there?'
'Oh, I'll be there! She was going to say, boasting,
Cassie was still awake, fractious and difficult when Fran went out. Sally thought she'd never met a child so full of questions and imaginings. How could you keep your patience and answer all that? As' soon as her mother had
