Nobody was jealous of Morag.
She wasn’t beautiful, she wasn’t young and she had a hard life travelling around, doing back breaking work on the land. She had no money for holidays or new clothes, no smartphone or smart TV, her tiny caravan was too hot in summer and too cold in winter. She had no human companionship, and spent her days working, knitting or walking with her dog.
Morag knew well no one envied her. But she was fine with that. All that mattered to Morag was there was nobody in the world she was jealous of at all.