Now at 86, Mae lived with her son Michael, the only one of their eleven children to remain in the bight. Martin had passed away the year before and the house was lonely without him. Once again she thought, she had been fortunate, for there was a strong bond between her and her daughter-in-law Annie, just as there had been with her and Mom Finlay. She smiled now remembering what Martin would have said, “you my dear”, he would often say, “would get along with old Lizzie Baggs herself”.  The lady he referred to had died long before Mae had come to live in the bight, but stories of how she disagreed with everyone were repeated generations later.  Mae had never regretted marrying Martin and moving half a world away from her home in London. She knew that she had adapted well to life in her new homeland and so was content. Humming an old tune, that she and Martin had danced to in the forties, she returned to her knitting, the grandchildren would need mitts and socks for the winter.