The Pitlochry guest house was not to my tastes at all. The proprietor behaved as if she was everyone’s best friend, but I could see through her act. All that interested her was the fastest means of extracting as much cash as possible from her paying guests. For example, rather than encouraging them to go out and see the town, she kept the holiday-makers trapped on her property to enjoy ‘in-house entertainment’.

In the crush of guests someone lost a tiny baby. He was only the size of a small banana. I couldn’t bear to see him abandoned so volunteered to take care of him and wait at the guest house until his parents returned. This greatly angered my ogre of a husband who wanted us to leave the premises as soon as possible.