Dawn can be spectacular in the Scottish Borders, with a deep orange glow highlighting the long smooth curves of the hills and spreading up the sweet valleys. It is an ethereal time of great peace, as if the growing light disguises the history of dispossession, invasion and sordid deeds. Thomas was usually awake before dawn as if to prepare for an expected attack, and Eleanor joined him at the side of the window.
“Good morning, Thomas,” Eleanor said.
“Good morning.” He looked at her with his eyes slowly clearing. “What are you doing here, Eleanor?”
“We’re looking at Anton’s Walls today,” she reminded.
Thomas nodded, rational again, and the shadows were absent from his eyes. “We’ll start immediately after breakfast.”
Eleanor listened as the plaintive cry of sheep rose from the green slo
