"Hoots awa', mon, hoots awa'! Och, it's a braw bonny day. Aye, we're the wee lads, begorrah - um - ah, hang on, that's Oirish - anyways, I've still got what it takes, eh, still got it, not just a balding old wanker, after all. Great! Now, let's organise some real coffee, reckon Fiona deserves real, not just instant. Wonder where Jeannie keeps it? Ah!"
- Andrew McLarachan rescues a bag of grounds from the freezer,shakes a modicum into the plunger, snibs on the electric jug, and setsout a couple of mugs. Humming `Scotland the Brave,' he's just pouring boiling water on to the grounds when, uh-oh, the front door swipes open,and his wife bursts through into the kitchen.
- "Ah, Andy - good timing, I could kill for a coffee. How's
Fiona?"
- "My god, Jeannie, what a shock you gave me. Thought you'd beaway another hour at least. Weren't you going to be showing Chief Angusall the sights of Wellington, and driving him round the bays?"
- "Well yes, I did, Andy, a bit, but I changed my plans. Took himto the top of Mount Victoria, and we had a good look at the view fromthere, you know, the harbour and stuff. And then we sort of wandered south along the ridge, among the trees, to show him where they shot some of those early scenes from The Lord of the Rings.
- "And after that I got to thinking, just how amazing it is, our having our Clan Chief, and his wife, come all the way from Scotland, and really here, staying with us, here, in our own house. Such a huge honour. So I should try to cook them something really really special. So, I decided to dash home and whip up a pav, there's a Kiwi thing for them. And I'd been wondering before about making them a haggis, and got hold of this recipe, and bought all the stuff for it, and now I'm feeling brave enough to really have a go at it. And Angus thought that would be a great idea - and that Fiona could give me a hand if I got stuck. Anyway, how is she?"
- "Ah, yeah, well, why not, I guess? But what have you done with the Chief himself?"
- "Oh, him, yes, he's just on his way. He hopped out of the car at the bottom of the hill, said he wanted to stretch his legs. But how's Fiona? How's her headache? That coffee's meant for her, is it?"
- "Yup, that's the story. But there's plenty if you'd like some.
And yeah, she seems right as rain now, box of fluffies, good as gold." "That's nice. And yes, pour me a cup, would you. 'Course, she's way younger than he is, which must help in bouncing back - but then, believe me, he's pretty perky for his age."
- "Here you are then. Sure, couple of real goers, aren't
they!"
- "Thanks. Hey, that should be Angus at the door now - I'll
just go let him in. And maybe he'd like a coffee too, or a cup of tea.
Put the jug on again, would you." "Righto, yes, he could do. - O, hi, Angus, come on in. Have a good walk?"
- A stocky, grizzled-haired man, swinging a green-and-yellow kilt, with a dark jacket, and a tie of the same hunting tartan, strides through into the kitchen.
- "Aye, sure, Andy, it's a bonny toon, this Wellington. A grand
harbour ye have here. And I do like a whiff o' breeze. "
- "So how are you finding it after Australia then?"
- "Ah, true, that city Sydney was braw enough. Another fine harbour, aye. But it was a' a wee bit warm for me, ye ken?" "Too right I do, man, Oz in January can be damn hot."
- "Your wifie's done me prood, showing me aroond, but I couldna get my mind quite away from that worry we were talkin' aboot last night. Ye ken, laddie, we're but a wee clan, after a', and back in Scotland every single family o' McLarachans has been turning oot naught but lasses. There's nae one boy bairn in the whole crood o' them. And we've been aroond the clan branches in Canada and the States and Australia and here, and we've foond just the sem. It's an awfu' calamity. The prood nem o' McLarachan is deeing oot!"
- "I'm with you there, sport. We do love our daughters, course we do, but we can't see a bright future for our clan in this damn country. And if the others are no better off, we're a threatened breed, we're faced with extinction."
- "After a', there'd nae be much glory, would there, in being
The McLarachan o' McLarachan, if every last survivin' member o' the clan was hyphenated? Think, mon - the McLarachans fought at Bannockburn and at Killiecranky. Och, some day, ye must come see Castle McLarachan, wi' its wa's lined wi' our battle-trophies, the horns o' scores o' cattle. And harken to the brave skirling o' the clan piper, playing The McLarachans' Retreat. Just think. Aw' that prood history. Nae, lad, we need sons, desperately."
- A brooding silence, broken by the crashing in of Fiona. "Andy, ye pillock, I fell asleep waitin' for you. Where's my blewdy coffee? - Hooo!"
- Naked, she spots the others, yelps with laughter and flees. An awkward quiet follows.
- "Er - look, um, er - Angus, Jeannie, er - oh hell's teeth, I'm sorry, but your wife and I, you know, we thought we really ought to try to do our bit - you know - for the survival of the clan."
- "Dinna' fash y'self, laddie, ye're one up on that damn
Australian wimp we stayed wi'. And after a', what the de'il d'ye think your Jeannie and I have been up to?"
