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parallel with a wide walk-way down the centre. In Area 14 the market stalls were more like carts with stretched plastic in bright, stripy colours pulled over the top as a roof. In the Compound the market stalls were wooden shacks with tarpaulin as the roof. But it was just as colourful and vibrant with stalls of fruit and vegetables, ornaments and bric-a-brac. There were even plastic banners with slogans painted on them; Claire’s Carrots: Will Swap Grain for a lb; Fruit and Veg Stall – No Ornamental Swaps; Junk Shop! Will Swap for Food. I slowed down as I stepped between the stalls, reading all the banners and looking at the goods, people bumping me from either side, the noise of babies crying, the chatter of hagglers, the many young girls clutching the hands of red faced and snotty nosed, toddlers. I caught a scent on the breeze; hot food so salty and delicious it made my mouth-water. Without realising my feet quickened and I followed the enticing smell. When was the last time I ate? I had no idea. At the end of the market I found a caravan parked sideways. The top section of the door was open and Stevie hung out shouting down to the queue of people waiting below. He caught my eye and grinned before disappearing into the caravan to cook the latest order.
    When he reappeared and handed down something wrapped in a paper napkin to a girl in her teens clutching a baby to her hip he shouted over to me. “What’ll ye be havin’, Mina?”
    “I don’t have anything to swap?” I shouted back. The crowd in front turned and glared at me. I tried to avoid their hostile stares.
    “Nay matter,” Stevie said, swiping his arm across the air. There was an angry murmur amongst the crowd of waiting people. “Hey,” Stevie directed at them, “this lass has been through hell and back. Show a bit o’respect and kindness, eh? Mina, lass, I’m gunnae whip ye up one o’my specials.”
    I smiled, grateful for both the food and the words, but as he disappeared into his caravan I felt the eyes turn back to me again. The air chilled and I plunged my hands into my pockets hoping that the ground would swallow me whole. Women whispered to each other and I couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying about me. I was the Blemished girl who had never seen babies before, the creepy girl who stared at their children and the one who had brought the GEM to their little haven. Would I ever be accepted? Would I ever fit in?
    Stevie re-appeared, and my stomach relaxed with relief and the anticipation of food. “C’mere, lass.”
    I made my way through the crowd and took the parcel from Stevie. “Thank you.”
    He placed a hand on my arm. “Eat that slowly, now. When was the last time ye ate?”
    “I’m not sure,” I replied.
    “If ye eat that too quick ye’ll make yeself sick,” he warned.
    I thanked him again before walking off to find a quiet place to eat my breakfast. At least there were people here who were kind and generous – Ali, Stevie, Mary and Cam. They were good people. I opened the paper napkin and found a large bread roll stuffed with thick bacon, onions and topped with a fried egg. It was sticky and greasy and downright unhealthy and everything I needed. Holding it tight to keep the filling in I took a gigantic bite. I heeded Stevie’s warning, relishing every mouthful. At the same time I wandered away from the market stalls, enjoying the feel of grass under my feet, the warming sun. It had to be mid-morning now, and the chill on the breeze had waned to something gentler.
    I tried to work out the size of the compound from end to end. There was around two acres in front of the castle. On the left of the castle there was a large section for just the farm, which occupied at least another three acres between the castle border and the compound border. On the right of the castle there was less space to the border wall, more like one acre. I’d have to ask Ali if the Compound was the only part of Scotland bordered from