My sister-in-law SG led us along the drive to the new house.

‘This is the piece of land that caused us so much hassle with the National Trust’ she explained.

We entered the house through the side door. The first room was not a porch as expected, but a lavatory. The door at the other side led straight into a tiny old-fashioned kitchen. ‘Oh dear’, I thought, ‘Why have they invested all their savings in this dump?’

Everyone else squeezed out of the kitchen and past a sofa squashed against the wall to reach the small dining room.  A panic attack suddenly overcame me. SG’s husband A grabbed me by the shoulders and laid me down on the floor.

When I recovered, I made way my through the dining room and into the sitting room. En route I passed SG’s cleaner, nanny, and handyman eating their lunch at the dining room table.

The sitting room was the only one in the house that made any sense. It was a good size with huge windows that looked out to a beautiful corner garden and the mountains beyond. Now I finally saw the attraction of the property.

Then I noticed that my sister J was also in our party. But where was our mother? Wasn’t J supposed to be looking after her?

‘I left her in Merchiston’ she confessed.

That reminded me that I needed to catch a bus to Biggar. As I made my way to the bus stop, I saw my confused mother on the other side of the road looking as if she was trying to spot a bus that would take her into town.

How on earth would our mother manage on her own? My sister J was so neglectful.