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armadillo-things that live in the lava of a Peruvian volcano…
    “Your sister’s looking after herself and me!” My Aunt Shuna comes into the hallway, her sunny smile bringing out her dimples, her green eyes full of fun. She doesn’tlook like my dad at all, though she’s his sister – apart from the blonde straight hair, which I’ve inherited.
    “Come and have a snack. You’re still in your shinty gear? Go and get changed then…” She stops suddenly. She’s heard his voice. My uncle’s.
    “Alistair?”
    He comes through the door. Aunt Shuna looks like she’s just seen Medusa – you know, that creature from Greek mythology with snakes on her head – the one who petrifies you if you look into her eyes.
    She stands still for a second. And then they hug really tight, for ages.
    My mum is smiling, and Valentina is staring at this stranger who looks a lot like her dad.
    “You must be Valentina.”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m your Uncle Alistair.”
    “Ok.” She looks at him for a wee while, then she tips her head to one side and says, “You’ve got something on your shoulder.”
    Uncle Alistair gives her the same look he gave me. Like he’s truly seen her.
    “They can both See…” he says. His eyes are shining.
    “What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. DOING!”
    A Dad-shaped iceberg has walked down the stairs. His voice has frozen everyone.
    “Duncan, I was going to tell you…” Mum begins.
    “I want you out.”
    “He’s got nowhere else to go…”
    “What? He’s got a perfectly good house in London! He knows I don’t want him near my children, ever!”
    My dad can be scary. He’s very tall, unlike me (I take after my mum where height is concerned) and he has a nose like a Roman statue – you know, big and straight. He hardly ever speaks to us, so when he does, we listen: we’ve either done something really, really amazing or we are in big trouble.
    “Not in front of the children!” says Mum. I’m not sure why she says that, because Valentina is a tough cookie and I’m not really a child, I’m twelve.
    “No. You’re right, Isabella. Let’s go up to the study,” says Alistair, unfazed. I can see where Valentina inherits her cool. Mum and I get all emotional about things, while Valentina is unflappable. My dad is something else entirely – he normally doesn’t notice what’s going on or, if he does, he ignores it in case it interferes with his writing.
    “We’re not going anywhere. I want you on your way back to London as soon as you can find a boat.”
    “Duncan!” and “Dad!” shout four indignant voices.
    “I’m not listening. I want…”
    “I don’t care what you want!” says a voice that is so used to being sweet that when it’s not it sounds all funny. Like a bird barking. It’s my sunny mellow Aunt Shuna. We all stare at her. “We haven’t spoken to our brother for twelve years, Duncan. He hasn’t had it easy since… you know what.” She looks away.
    “How do you know?” asks Dad. His voice is icy. Visions of penguins, igloos, polar bears come into my head.
    “What do you mean?”
    “How do you know he hasn’t had it easy, if you haven’t spoken for twelve years?”
    Icicles, Eskimos, sleighs. Not the cheery Christmas ones.
    “We have spoken, sometimes,” says Alistair. He and Shuna look at each other, an incredible warmth in their eyes. The ice in my head melts away.
    “I want you to stay in Eilean, Alistair. And if you can’t stay here, you and I will find somewhere else in the village to live,” says my aunt.
    “NO!” Mum, Valentina and I shout in unison.
    “I have no choice. Alistair, come on. Children, you can come and see us… whenever… you…” Her voice breaks.
    Oh no, tears. I HATE to see people crying.
    “If she goes, Duncan, I’ll go too!” cries Mum.
    “And me! And Luca too!” Valentina adds, holding on to my sleeve just to make sure.
    I’m quiet. I don’t actually want to leave my dad. He looks a bit taken aback. I don’t think he