“Hebredes.” Chéri repeated, to learn the word itself as best as they could. “Home… name?” Chéri wanted to know if the island had a name, for the circle had cleared that Hebrides was just the general name of the archipelago.

Francis started to tear off bread and Chéri showed both their hands and shook their head. It wasn’t necessary. They had gotten the concept. They had never gone on to become a sailor after all, but they still recognised at least one of those names as an island name. “Francis, Whitby. Why?”