Drink: Flowers of Scotland

Back in the Sixties, there was a more than usually sanguinary murder in Glasgow. While the killer was awaiting trial, the Scottish Daily Express decided to buy up his family. This must have been after the days when such a case would end with a good hanging; Alan Cochrane insists that he is not that old. But the newspaper thought that the low-lifers’ tales of the dark and bloody alleyways of the Gorbals would titillate its readers. Alan, then a young reporter, was told to hide the family from rival bidders until judgment day, in some discreet hotel up on Lomond-side. That did not sound a hard posting, until he met the MacTumshies.

At the first meal, they sat awkwardly on their chairs and gazed suspiciously at the menus — even the ones who were holding them the right way up. Alan tried to accelerate proceedings. ‘What about starting with smoked salmon?’ ‘Ah’ve no had that,’ said Dad: ‘Ah’ll gie it a go.’