Prologue

Tangy Mill, Kintyre, Argyll and Bute

The day is blue, green and glittering sea.

I’ve opened the front door, stepped in to the middle loft, from the bright to the dim coolness and a particular smell. Lavender, beeswax, hemp. I’m standing still, spooked by the solitude I’ve craved, aware of the rise and fall of my breath. Fingers tingling, I touch the scars criss-crossing the palm of my hand.