CHAPTER 19
“Work!” Mr Gallacher said. “It’s what we all do. We work, or we starve, and those who don’t work, don’t eat.”
I stood on the quayside with the other gutters, waiting for the boats to come in. It was my first day, and all the others were fishwives, some with years of experience at the job.
Aberdeen quay is open to all the elements that God sends, and some that slipped through when he was not looking. Whichever way the wind blew, it cut through my clothing like a gutting knife.
We saw the boats on the horizon, a cloud of red-brown sails, for the Aberdeen trawlers sought white fish and the sailing vessels hunted the herring, the silver darlings of song and merchants’ profit. Mr Gallacher ordered us to get ready, and within half an hour, the boats were scudding into Aberdeen. Th
