'…Katie?'

'Whit?'

'Here.'

'Whit's that?'

'It's a handkerchief.  Go on.  Take it.'

'No thanks.'

'I see.  I take it that young man was Bobby Clark?'

'Aye.  Wee shite.'

'Kate, I confess I am genuinely shocked.  I didn't know children your age used the sort of language you did.  Exactly how old are you, Kate?'

'Eight and a half.'

'Dear God.'

'How old are you, then?'

'My, you do recover quickly.  You're very impertinent, too.  Gerald, cover your ears.'

'Ma hands are a bit mucky, ma'am, but I shall endeavour to keep my lugs averted.'

'How gallant.  I am forty-eight, Kate.'

'Goad, that's dead old, issit no?  Ma gran's no that old.'

'Thank you for your thoughts on the matter, Kate.  Actually it's not terribly old at all and I don't think I have ever felt better about my life.  However.  What exactly are you and your young friends doing over there?'

'Missis, we're havin Olympic Games.'

'Are you indeed?  And I thought it was just a bunch of little kids playing on a bit of muddy waste ground in the drizzle.  What sports are you playing?'

'Och, loads.  Jumpin an runnin an that.'

'And what are you playing, Kate?'

'Ahm no.  Ahm sellin the sweeties an stuff.'

'Is that what you have in your bag?'

'It's ma ma's.  It's old, but she said ah could have it.  Ah didnae nick it or anyhin.  Ah repaired the handle massel.  See?'

'I see.  So, you're running the refreshment concession, are you?'

'Whit?'

'Never mind.  May I buy one of your sweets?'

'Aye.  Ah've no many left, but.  An there's nae fizz.'

'No fizz?'

'Aye.  Nae Irn Bru, or American Cream Soda.  Ah finished both bottles.'

'Just a sweet will do, then.'

'Whit dae ye want?  Ah've Penny Dainties and Black Jacks.  Or there's a few wee lucky-bag sweeties left.'