Out of a hap-penance, the Englishman and I have been in Scotland during this historic time when the country decided on its future.
We’d been invited for a weekend of fly fishing on the Scottish Borders (him on the river, me tucked up in the house by an open fire writing), so I decided to kill two birds by taking a week’s holiday and adding some time to do research for the sequel to The Englishman. The novel is partly set in Helensburgh, so I needed to ‘smell the air’ and get the sense of the place again. But we also decided to take a nostalgic look at Edinburgh, a city where we spent a very happy six weeks some 30 years ago.
Politics aside, I feel privileged to have been here when the Scottish vote was cast and am – I have to admit – quite relieved about the result.