‘… wonderful programme for you tonight on Scotland Loud and Live! I’ll be meeting the Dundee woman with Scotland’s biggest collection of antique jam jars, our roving, raving reporter, Donny Greig, is finding out how people all over the country are preparing for the Royal Wedding, and tonight he’s in Galashiels in the beautiful border country. Are you there, Donny …?’

‘Is this the right programme?’ I say to Susan.

‘What in heaven’s name is he wearing?’ said Mola. ‘He looks like a huge …’

‘Shh … watch.’

The camera cuts back to Robbie Ferguson.

‘… my first guest tonight. Known to many of you as the Mystic o’ the Highlands, Kenneth McKinley toured Scotland’s theatres for nearly two decades with a wonderful act that combined mind-reading, levitation – oh yes! – with some feats of mystery that were so baffling that many people began to think he was the real thing! He befriended stars like the Beatles before vanishing from the public eye. Well, he’s back. Here’s a quick clip of him in action at the Pavilion Theatre, Glasgow, ten years ago …’

Here the picture cuts to a stage where a man in a kilt – easily recognisable as Kenneth – is talking to a lady next to him. The film is in black and white.

‘Now, Maureen,’ Kenneth is saying in his musical Scots accent, ‘I’d like you to take my hand.’ The lady does so and the two stand side by side. With his other hand, he reaches down to where a short sword hangs from a belt, and I breathe in sharply.

‘Look, Susan! That’s the … the thing that was hanging over the back of his chair!’

There’s no mistaking it. The camera shows a close-up of the carved handle.

‘Hold my dirk in your other hand, Maureen, there you go, and, when I say so, raise it up slowly.’

Kenneth allows his chin to drop to his chest as though he is sleeping. Seconds tick by, as the theatre band plays a slow, spooky melody.

‘Raise the dagger, Maureen.’ She does so, and Kenneth, dramatically lifting his head and widening his eyes, cries, ‘Float!’

Maureen gasps. Still holding her hand, Kenneth’s feet rise a little way off the stage floor. One centimetre, two, three. The audience starts a ripple of applause that gets louder. Kenneth’s feet are now at least ten or fifteen centimetres off the ground. He is floating!

‘Oh my!’ says Mola, breathlessly.

On-screen, Kenneth lifts his head and says, ‘Now, Maureen, please check above me and behind me for wires or supports of any kind. Careful with my dirk!’ She moves her other hand round him. The crowd applauds again.

Slowly, he descends until both feet are back on the stage. He thanks Maureen, shoves the dagger back in its sheath, acknowledges the applause gracefully and finishes by saying, ‘Ladies and gentlemen. The power of the mind is a marvellous thing. Thank you for your attention!’