Dan took Josh’s point with a flick of his head. “Probably not. So, in your opinion, the market for Vaggas, as you call them, could grow?”

“And how!” Josh replied, taking a swallow of his coffee and pulling out a chair for himself next to Dan. “I wouldn’t think they’re even scratching the surface yet. I’m not the only one who’s been trying to get hold of a catalogue. Nobody even knows where the wretched company is based! I mean, whoever’s running the business at present has no idea what a huge market he’s missing out on.”

“Seemingly, it’s all run from the north of Scotland.”

“Is it? Well, maybe the boss should lay down his bagpipes and get down here and do some marketing.”

Dan slid the magazine across the table to Josh. “That’s the ‘boss’ there,” he said, stabbing his finger on the face of the woman. He could tell from Josh’s expression that he was unimpressed, almost disappointed.

“Doesn’t look particularly dynamic, does she?” Josh remarked.

Dan smiled. “Not really. But give her her due, she did start the company as a hobby. She’s obviously done bloody well to get it to where it is now.”

Josh drummed his fingers on the table. “Maybe, but what they need to do is find someone who really knows how to run a business like that. Like Mum, for instance. If she took it over, she’d just make the whole thing explode.”

Dan bit thoughtfully at the side of his cheek. “I wonder. I mean, I don’t doubt your mother’s capabilities, but this really is a completely different kettle of fish. Rebecca Talworth’s name was pretty well established before Jackie started building up the company.”

“Dad,” Josh replied, shaking his head, “go into any club that has a name for itself south of the river and ask if either the names Rebecca Talworth or Vaggas mean anything to them. I know what the answer would be.”

“You’re going to tell me Vaggas, aren’t you?”

“Probably ninety per cent?” Josh hazarded a guess.

“This is unreal!” Dan stated incredulously. “I can’t believe that something started from sewing scraps of cloth together in the north of Scotland should become sort of cult wear.”

“Well, it seems to have worked.” Josh drained his coffee. “Hey, that article doesn’t give a contact number, does it?”

Dan flipped over to the end of the article. “No. Nothing. I suppose you could get it through directory enquiries.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Josh rinsed out his mug under the tap. “Don’t think I’ll bother, though. I’m a bit skint at the minute. I’d just get tempted.”

“They don’t cost that much, do they?”

“About fifty quid, which is more than I can afford at the minute.”

“Fifty quid! Bloody hell!”