Niall wonders what it is about the man. He always looks tanned, so much so that Niall thinks he must use a sun bed. He has hair to match his name and a bench press in his front room.

‘Did you have a fire up at your house the other night?’

‘Fire?’

‘Yeah. Someone mentioned you had a fire the other night and it set the downstairs alight.’

Sandy’s laugh is generous. ‘You’re having me on. God, no. Just shows you, doesn’t it? How the rumour mill works, eh? You can come and have a look. Not a sausage.’

Lauren giggles.

He continues. ‘I am going to a firework display later, but … Hang on, I remember this. I heard it was here in the village where this fire happened, now you mention it. A couple of guys down the pub were talking about some kind of bonfire, but that was back last week. They were saying it was down at Alan Mackie’s house, as a matter of fact. And then this week it’s me.’ He shakes his head, raising his eyebrows. ‘Anyway, thanks again for your help the other night, pal.’ He lifts a clinking bag. ‘I got us some beers.’

‘Oh, cheers.’ Niall tries to sound genuine. Lauren is opening her fiddle case, flipping up the silver latches.

‘Yeah, the band’s coming on pretty well actually. Looks like we might be headed for the big time. Imagine me, famous!’

‘Oh yeah?’ Niall opens a bottle of Joker IPA.

‘BBC Scotland are doing a piece on folk music in the Highlands, you know, and rumour has it they could be interviewing me.’

‘Well, that’d suit you down to the ground.’

Sandy smiles broadly, his teeth unnaturally white. ‘Ha! Well. Fingers crossed. We’ve got this bothy kitted out to practise in. Here, speaking of the devil, do you ever see that Alan Mackie about?’

‘Well, yes, you know he stays just down the road.’ Niall sinks into the sofa and gulps from the bottle, while Lauren practises her finger movements on the neck of the violin.

‘Just keep an eye on him, won’t you? I get a bit of a funny feeling.’ He lowers his voice. ‘Seen him pestering Diane in the Black Horse the other night. He needs to watch himself, that one.’

‘I can’t not think of him as Mr Mackie, you know. Since school.’

‘Aye, I know, always one for girls, that man. I remember it, when he was teaching us PE.’

‘No. You’re serious?’

‘Aye, I’m telling you, just keep’ – he looks at Lauren – ‘keep an eye out.’

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