Nina was embarrassed by the compliment.

“I think,” she said, “I think you could do all sorts of things. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you never know what you can do till you try.”

“But I love what I do. I love this land.”

Nina looked at him. “There must be a way. There must be a way to stay.”

Lennox shrugged, then extended a hand. They had crested the hill now, and the valley was laid out beneath them, the railway line running through it. Nina averted her eyes from that. Instead, at the top of the next hill was a great crowd of people, striped tents and brightly colored stalls. There was a steady noise that sounded to Nina like the thrumming of rain on a roof, but as they drew closer, she realized it was in fact the sound of drums. She screwed up her eyes. A group of young men, in kilts but shirtless, with mud spread all over their chests and upper bodies, were banging on huge bodhráns and making a massive racket. Every so often one of them would throw back his head and howl.

“Gosh,” said Nina. “Is there going to be much of this?”

For the first time, Lennox smiled properly. He had a lovely smile; it crinkled his blue eyes. “Oh, and the rest,” he said. Then his face fell again. “Sorry I had to notify you about your potential eviction.”

Nina blinked. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve had . . . actually, I’ve had an offer elsewhere.”

Lennox’s eyebrows went up. “Really?” he said carefully.

Nina swallowed. She didn’t want to leave Kirrinfief, she really didn’t. But she didn’t see any point in making Lennox feel worse about things than he already did.

“Just sort things out with Kate however you have to,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”

The Land Rover came to a halt next to rows of other cars parked in a field. Lennox looked at her and nodded.

“Aye,” he said, but his face was worried.

“I mean it,” said Nina.

Lennox got out of the vehicle, then instinctively moved around the back to help her down; Nina had almost forgotten the dress she was wearing. It wasn’t quite the thing for scrambling in and out of Land Rovers. He put out his long, rough hand and she took it.

“Where were you thinking of going?” he said as she jumped lightly to the ground.

“Oh, Orkney,” she said breezily.

Lennox stood-stock still. “Artney?” he said, pronouncing it the local way. “You’re heading up to Artney? Is this really no’ isolated enough for you?”

“If I don’t have anywhere to live here, I might have to,” pointed out Nina.

“Oh,” said Lennox. “Aye.”

They stood awkwardly. The drumming grew louder and louder, and with it on the breeze came the sound of skirling pipes. Clouds raced across the sky, little puffy things being chased across as if something was after them. Nina heard a crowd of children laughing.

“Are you sure I’m dressed for this?” she said, and Lennox looked her up and down.

“You’re gor—” he seemed about to say, then stopped himself. “Do you know what?” he said finally. “I am in the mood to get drunk. Want to join me?”

“You? What about all the little baby lambs?”

“The little baby lambs are bouncing about eating my thistles. And it’s midsummer, which means one is required to get drunk, didn’t you know?”

As if on cue, a hugely fat man whom Nina recognized as the local postmaster, even though he was tremendously well disguised, covered in red makeup, and with great vines of fruit and flowers draped around his copious shoulders, ran up brandishing a large horn.

“BACCHUS! BACCHUS IS HERE!” he shouted broadly. “Worship the god of the midsummer!”

“What is this?” said Nina suspiciously.

“It’s midsummer night,” said the man. “We make merry and we make magic. Water shall turn into wine and flowers shall show the way. Also, it’s five pounds.”

“That’s not answering the question,” said Nina, but she took a tentative sip anyway. The concoction tasted a little strange—like wine flavored with raspberries—but it was fresh and fizzy and good, and she smiled and passed the horn to Lennox, who drank deeply and smiled in response and handed over ten pounds, whereupon Bacchus shouted, “Come, come, join the revels! Also don’t forget to support your local post office.” Then three of the young girls who normally hung around the village bus stop looking discontented with the world and complaining about things came bouncing up in their white dresses with big garlands of flowers and offered one to Nina.

“I don’t think so,” said Nina.

“It’s supporting the local girl guides,” said one of the girls, and Nina rolled her eyes.

“You need to bring deep pockets to the midsummer festival,” said Lennox. “On you go, then.”

And Nina bowed her head and let them put the flowers around her hair.

It was, to be fair, the most wonderful party. Little children were running and skidding about, the girls with floral headdresses and their dresses blowing in the wind, flowers everywhere, the boys in kilts just like their fathers, with loose white shirts, and here and there brandishing the little swords that came in their socks.

At the gate where they bought their tickets was a great bower, bent around with summer peonies and roses, filling the air with their heavy scent. Lennox had to duck to get through it, and beyond it they emerged into the most extraordinary sight.

A vast bonfire shot into the air at the very top of the hill, crackling and sending sparks upward. Dotted all around on the grass were musicians playing their fiddles to the noise of the heavy drums, and in the center was what in England Nina would have called a maypole, though this strange arched object didn’t seem anything like the twee Morris-dancing memories of her childhood.

This was larger, wilder, an entire tree trunk on its end, its full green foliage promising forests and vines. Couples, she now saw, were going up to the twisted tree trunk, winding foliage around their wrists to bind them together, then unwinding themselves around the trunk until they met again, full of giggles and kisses, on the other side, whereupon the vines would be tied back onto the maying tree and the ceremony would begin again. They must have been building it for weeks.

A huge figure loomed into view, startling Nina and several of the children. It was, she realized gradually, a green man on stilts. He was completely covered in leaves and looked like he was made of the forest itself, and he was controlling the drumming, ordering and arranging the couples, in general being the master of ceremonies.