Out walking in the snow covered back streets of Edinburgh, I fell hard over a tramp.
‘What are you doing?’ the body erupted.
‘Sorry, did not see you in the shadow.’
I have heard strange things about the night people of Scotland but this was a soft , blurry image.
‘Stay where you are.’ The large blur commanded, with him was a massive dog leaning towards me.
‘Why?’ seeing beyond the face of the dog I now realised he was wearing a kilt and sporran. Massive man just like his dog, with a great red beard and long red hair.
‘You hit your head and it is bleeding, hold still and I will bandage it.’
He sat down and took a first aid kit from his sporran, he wiping the blood off then wrapped a roll of gauze bandage around my head.
‘Right laddie we need to get you to hospital, can you stand?’
I slowly sat up and the world seemed to tilt at an alarming angle and then I seem to sink into a greying darkness.
The antiseptic light seemed to shine right through my head as I wondered why he was pointing his great big torch at me.
‘Lie still and let me examine you.’ A strange voice and then a woman said something.
‘The head wound is clean and I do not think it needs stitches, I will just re-bandage it, otherwise is he alright?’ Woman again.
‘Yes, just a nasty bang on the head, too much alcohol in him for him to have felt it.’ Strange voice again, where is the kilted man and his dog?