Tea With Gunns

Every fifth of November, otherwise sensible Scottish people leave their warm houses, dress as though they are about to be rescued from a North Sea oil platform, and stand in a wet field to watch somebody set fire to a considerable amount of money.

I was in a café with Mr Gunn when he reached across the table and took a chip from my plate. He did this without interrupting what he was saying about the car. Apparently it had developed a noise which occurred only when we