“Did you hear the news?” Agnes spoke in a hushed whisper, as befitted the possessor of great scandal.
“No,” I said. “What’s happened?” I expected some tale of amorous misbehaviour, perhaps of Dougie having seduced a servant from another toun, or Jim having found a sweetheart, only to discover she had a husband and three children.
“It was at the suicide graveyard,” Agnes said as if that explained everything.
“What was at the suicide’s graveyard?” I asked.
We were alone in the kitchen, scrubbing, cleaning, and making the unending brose for the boys. Mrs Lunan was absent for once, which gave Agnes and I the opportunity to exchange scandal. Or rather, it allowed Agnes a chance, for I was too new in Kingsinch for anybody to tell me anything. Stoorey-foots are always the last to know.
“Some
