‘He needs to go home and sleep for a week,’ said Amaryllis once they were safely outside. The Council snow-plough sat in the middle of the road. ‘I wonder why it’s taken them so long to get round to us.’ ‘They may have forgotten about Pitkirtly,’ suggested Christopher. ‘We’re a bit off the beaten track here.’ Amaryllis remembered thinking much the same thing when she had first arrived in town. Now - well, it wasn’t exactly the centre of the universe, even now. But she liked living here, and she felt at home, while accepting that nobody was truly at home in Pitkirtly until at least four generations of their family had lived there. ‘Come on, this way,’ she said, heading for the High Street. ‘What now?’ groaned Christopher. Evidently he thought he deserved to go home and sleep for a week too. We’ll see about that, thought Amaryllis, who liked to keep him on his toes. ‘We might as well go and have a word with the jeweller, now we’re so close by,’ she said.
