Verity was born to James and Martha Miller on 24^th October 1892, at home in Raeburn Place in the Stockbridge area of Edinburgh. Her parents were comfortable, although far from rich, and Verity, as an only child, received a lot of parental attention. She was taught to read at an early age, and enrolled in a library as soon as she was old enough. She was educated at Mary Erskine’s School for Girls, a private, fee-paying school catering to Edinburgh’s middle classes. She was a day pupil, as the school was only about a 20 minute walk from home. Unusually, Verity was encouraged into science, even though neither of her parents was specifically interested in this area. At school, she gravitated towards chemistry, and became fascinated by the power of chemicals to create explosions! This was not always well-received by her teachers, even though, overall, she was a studious, well-behaved and perhaps slightly lonely child. Like many clever children, she was prone to being bullied, and as often happens, it was her attempts to defend herself that were noticed, not the bullying itself. She was accepted for the University of Edinburgh to study chemistry, alongside fellow pupil Angela Hogg, on the recommendation of the school’s Principal Teacher of Science.

The summer between school and university was to change Verity’s life. She had just travelled to North Berwick with the intention of spending the last days of summer with her “aunts” Harriet and Lydia, when she received word that a fire had destroyed her family home, and her mother and father had been killed. Her world collapsed, and she only agreed to start university after pleading by Lydia, who made it clear that it’s what her parents would have wanted. Verity moved into the room her mother had stayed in when visiting Harriet and Lydia, and rented term-time lodgings in a rooming house for female students in Marchmont.

Careful financial planning by her father had left Verity financially stable, and she was surprised, on reaching her 18^th birthday, early in her first term, to be contacted by the family solicitor and given news of a trust fund established to meet the costs of her education, and an ongoing stipend for not less than 20 years thereafter. The benefactor was unnamed, and, although she suspected Lydia knew more about it than she would tell, Verity promised never to ask.

At University, the female students had something of a difficult time, being poorly treated by male students, most lecturers and even the janitorial staff. Verity proved to be a very capable student, graduating with first class honour (as did her friend Angela), much to the disgust of male students. The degrees awarded to the women were the subject of complaints to the Vice Principal, and letters to the Scotsman. During her final year, Verity volunteered to help women in Glasgow taking part in a rent strike, in protest at the predatory profiteering of slum landlords. After graduation, Verity had a choice: whether to join the peace movement, or take up an offer to work for the War Office designing detonators. Although she was later to come to deeply regret it, she chose the latter. In practice, it was an ideal job for Verity. She was clever, resourceful and never reluctant to experiment. Her detonators were very successful, and she made three trips to the front in France to work on adaptations to field guns. This caused some friction with the artillery men, but in time she won them round. At the end of the war, Verity had expected to be retained as a scientist, but like many skilled and effective women workers at all levels, plans were being made to replace them with men, however poorly qualified, returning from France.

By this point, Verity was nearly 27. The two things which most shaped her adult self were the Rent Strike, and her experiences of the war. Prior to her involvement with supporting the women on strike, she had been quite cosseted, and not exposed much to poverty or injustice (although, clearly, she had experienced significant loss). Her views on many things had been shaped by her Govan experiences, including her own worth (which was then undermined by choosing to work for the war office), and her sense of justice. On balance, she was also less trusting and more suspicious. The war left her with nightmares and guilt in many forms, largely as a result of her imaginings of what the havoc and suffering the detonators she built created. At a personal level, although confident in her views, Verity was never good at meeting new people and, somewhat unfortunately for a detective, had a pathological distrust of the telephone!

As book one opens at the end of January 1919, Scotland is in turmoil. Word reaches her of a demonstration in George Square in support of striking shipyard workers …