If I hadn’t told him about Alain’s death, I wouldn’t have been able to go to Yell. I wouldn’t have felt cleansed at last. In time, I’d be grateful.
His first words dispelled future gratitude quite nicely. ‘That was a risk you took for Maree. How did you know Tarrant wouldn’t silence her?’
‘Not in front of so many people,’ I retorted. ‘He wasn’t stupid. He was calculating. Lie, get an expensive lawyer, pat Maree on the head, and say she’s unbalanced by her sister’s death.’
‘Exactly what he is saying.’
‘Do you think you’ll nail him though?’ I asked.
His jaw set. ‘The crime was committed here, he’ll be tried here. I have faith in Scottish justice.’ He gave me a long, steady look. ‘You know you’ll be one of the key witnesses for the prosecution?’
‘The conversation about the baby?’
‘Write down what you heard now, word for word, and learn it off by heart.’
‘I didn’t know policemen were supposed to give advice like that.’
He looked away from me, his lower lip pulling in against his teeth. ‘I’ve seen all Favelle’s movies. When I got this case I even thought that I might meet her.’
Instead, he’d had to look at her body.
I wasn’t a suspect any more; we were equals now. I looked him straight in the face, seeing his own grey eyes, not Alain’s any longer. ‘I won’t let her down,’ I said.
‘I’ll see you at the trial.’ He held out his hand. ‘And if you take off in a tall ship, I’ll personally run you in for everything I can think of the next time you set foot on Scottish soil.’
‘I’ll be there.’ We shook hands on it. He turned away, then turned back, fished in his pocket, and brought out a brown envelope. ‘When I went through your records there was one omission.’ He handed me the envelope. ‘A present.’
If it was a letter, it was a long one; there were several thicknesses of paper inside. I stared at him, doubtful. He nodded, climbed over the guard rail and strode off, kilt swinging jauntily. At the marina gate, he turned to raise a hand, then clambered into his car and drove off, leaving me standing there, in the centre of the cockpit, with the envelope in my hands. I sat down, lifted the unglued flap and slid the contents out.
It was an application form for a provisional driving licence.
A note on Shetlan
Shetland has its own very distinctive language, Shetlan or Shetlandic, which derives from Old Norse and Old Scots. Magnie’s first words to Cass are,
‘Cass, well, for the love of mercy. Norroway, at this season? Yea, yea, we’ll find you a berth. Where are you?’
Written in west-side Shetlan (each district is slightly different), it would have looked like this:
‘Cass, weel, fir da love o’ mercy. Norroway, at dis saeson? Yea, yea, we’ll fin dee a bert. Quaur is du?’’
Th becomes a d sound in dis (this), da (the), dee and du (originally thee and thou, now you), wh becomes qu ( quaur, where), the vowel sounds are altered (well to weel, season to saeson, find to fin), the verbs are slightly different (quaur is du?) and the whole looks unintelligible to most folk from outwith Shetland, and twartree (a few) within it too.
So, rather than writing in the way my characters would speak, I’ve tried to catch the rhythm and some of the distinctive usages of Shetlan while keeping it intelligible to soothmoothers, or people who’ve come in by boat through the South Mouth of Bressay Sound into Lerwick, and by extension, anyone living south of Fair Isle.
There are also many Shetlan words that my characters would naturally use, and here, to help you, are some o’ dem. No Shetland person would ever use the Scots wee; to them, something small would be peerie, or, if it was very small, peerie mootie. They’d caa sheep in a park, that is, herd them up in a field – moorit sheep, coloured black, brown, fawn. They’d take a skiff (a small rowing boat) out along the banks (cliffs) or on the voe (sea inlet), with the tirricks (Arctic terns) crying above them, and the selkies (seals) watching. Hungry folk are black fanted (because they’ve forgotten their faerdie maet, the snack that would have kept them going) and upset folk greet (cry). An older housewife like Jessie would have her makkin (knitting) belt buckled around her waist, and her reestit (smoke-dried) mutton hanging above the Rayburn. And finally … my favourite Shetland verb, which I didn’t manage to work in this novel, but which is too good not to share: to kettle. As in: Wir cat’s joost kettled. Four ketlings, twa strippet and twa black and quite. I’ll leave you to work that one out on your own … or, of course, you could consult Joanie Graham’s Shetland Dictionary, if your local bookshop hasn’t joost selt their last copy dastreen.
Adults using the diminutives Magnie (Magnus), Gibbie (Gilbert), and Charlie may also seem strange to non-Shetland ears. In a traditional country family (I can’t speak for toonie Lerwick habits) the oldest son would often be called after his father or grandfather, and be distinguished from that father and grandfather and perhaps a cousin or two as well, by his own version of their shared name. Or, of course, by a peerie in front of it, which would stick for life, like the eart kyent (well-known) guitarist Peerie Willie Johnson, who recently celebrated his 80th birthday. There was also a patronymic system, which meant that a Peter’s four sons, Peter, Andrew, John, and Matthew, would all have the surname Peterson, and so would his son Peter’s children. Andrew’s children, however, would have the surname Anderson, John’s would be Johnson, and Matthew’s would be Matthewson. The Scots ministers stamped this out in the nineteenth century, but in one district you can have a lot of folk with the same surname, and so they’re distinguished by their house name: Magnie o’ Strom, Peter o’ da Knowe
Glossary
For those who like to look up unfamiliar words as they go, here’s a glossary of Scots and Shetlan words.
aa : all
an aa : as well
aabody : everybody
ahint : behind
allwye : everywhere
amang : among
anyroad : anyway
auld : old
aye : always
bairn : child
banks : sea cliffs, or peatbanks, the slice of moor where peats are cast
bannock : flat triangular scone
birl, birling : paired spinning round in a dance
blootered : very drunk
blyde: glad
boanie : pretty, good looking
breeks : trousers
brigstanes : flagged stones at the door of a crofthouse
bruck : rubbish
caa : round up
canna : can’t
clarted : thickly covered
cowp : capsize
cratur : creature
crofthouse : the long, low traditional house set in its own land
darrow : a hand fishing line
dastreen : yesterday evening
de-crofted : land that has been taken out of agricultural use, e.g. for a house site
dee : you. du is also you, depending on the grammar of the sentence – they’re equivalent to thee and thou. Like French, you would only use dee or du to one friend; several people, or an adult if you’re a younger person, would be you.
denner : midday meal
didna : didn’t
dinna : don’t
dis : this
doesna : doesn’t
doon : down
drewie lines : a type of seaweed made of long strands
duke : duck
dukey-hole : pond for ducks
du kens : you know
dyck, dyke : a wall, generally drystane, i.e. built without cement
ee now : right now
eela : fishing, generally these days a competition
everywye : everywhere
fae, frae : from
faersome : frightening
faither, usually faider: father
fanted : hungry, often black fanted, absolutely starving
folk : people
gansey : a knitted jumper
geen
: gone
greff : the area in front of a peat bank
gret : cried
guid : good
guid kens : God knows
hae : have
hadna : hadn’t
harled : exterior plaster using small stones
heid : head
hoosie : little house, usually for bairns
isna : isn’t
joost : just
ken, kent : know, knew
kirk : church
kirkyard : graveyard
knowe : hillock
Lerook : Lerwick
lintie : skylark
lipper : a cheeky or harum-scarum child, generally affectionate
mair : more
makkin belt : a knitting belt with a padded oval, perforated for holding the ‘wires’ or knitting needles.
mam : mum
mareel : sea phosphorescence, caused by plankton, which makes every wave break in a curl of gold sparks
meids : shore features to line up against each other to pinpoint a spot on the water
midder : mother
mind : remember
moorit : coloured brown or black, usually used of sheep
mooritoog : earwig
muckle : big – as in Muckle Roe, the big red island. Vikings were very literal in their names, and almost all Shetland names come from the Norse.
muckle biscuit : large water biscuit, for putting cheese on
na : no, or more emphatically, naa
needna : needn’t
Norroway : the old Shetland pronunciation of Norway
o : of
oot : out
ower : over
park : fenced field
peat : brick-like lump of dried peat earth, used as fuel
peerie : small
peerie biscuit : small sweet biscuit
Peeriebreeks : affectionate name for a small thing, person or animal
piltick : a sea fish common in Shetland waters
pinnie : apron
postie : postman
quen : when
redding up : tidying
reestit mutton : wind-dried shanks of mutton
riggit : dressed, sometimes with the sense dressed up
roadymen : men working on the roads
roog : a pile of peats
rummle : untidy scattering
Santy : Santa Claus
scaddy man’s heids : sea urchins
scattald : common grazing land
scuppered : put paid to, done for
selkie : seal, or seal person who came ashore at night, cast his/her skin, and became human
shalder : oystercatcher
sho : she
shoulda : should have, usually said sooda
shouldna : shouldn’t have
SIBC : Shetland Islands Broadcasting Company, the independent radio station
skafe : squint
skerry : a rock in the sea
smoorikins : kisses
snicked : move a switch that makes a clicking noise
snyirked : made a squeaking or rattling noise
solan : gannet
somewye : somewhere
sooking up : sucking up
soothified : behaving like someone from outwith Shetland
spewings : piles of vomit
splatched : walked in a splashy way with wet feet, or in water
swack : smart, fine
tak : take
tatties : potatoes
tay : tea, or meal eaten in the evening
tink : think
tirricks : Arctic terns
trows : trolls
tushker : L-shaped spade for cutting peat
twa : two
twa-three (usually twa-tree) : a small number
vee-lined : lined with wood planking
voe : sea inlet
voehead : the landwards end of a sea inlet
waander : wander
waar : seaweed
wand : a fishing rod
whatna : what
wasna : wasn’t
wha’s : who is
whitteret : weasel
wi : with
wir : we’ve – in Shetlan grammar, we are is sometimes we have
wir : our
wife : woman, not necessarily married
wouldna : would not
yaird : enclosed area around or near the croft house
yoal : a traditional clinker-built six-oared rowing boat.
Next in The Cass Lynch Mysteries
The Trowie Mound Murders
Marsali Taylor
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Copyright © Marsali Taylor 2014
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ISBN 9781783755172
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The stories contained within this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
Death on a Longship Page 29