Praise for Alexander McCall Smith’s
44 SCOTLAND STREET SERIES
“Devilishly clever.… Often droll, often touching, the Scotland Street stories are always delightful to read.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“Written with abundant wit … [and] equally large dollops of wisdom too.”
—Scotland on Sunday
“Sweet.… Graceful.… Wonderful.… Gentle but powerfully addicting fiction.”
—Entertainment Weekly
“McCall Smith’s assessments of fellow humans are piercing and profound.… [His] depictions of Edinburgh are vivid and seamless.”
—San Francisco Chronicle
“Irresistible.… Packed with the charming characters, piercing perceptions and shrewd yet generous humor that have become McCall Smith’s cachet.”
—Chicago Sun-Times
“McCall Smith’s plots offer wit, charm and intrigue in equal doses.”
—Richmond Times-Dispatch
“The most genial of writers and the most gentle of satirists.… [The] characters are great fun … [and] McCall Smith treats all of them with affection.”
—Rocky Mountain News
Alexander McCall Smith
SUNSHINE ON SCOTLAND STREET
Alexander McCall Smith is the author of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series, the Isabel Dalhousie series, the Portuguese Irregular Verbs series, the 44 Scotland Street series, and the Corduroy Mansions series. He is professor emeritus of medical law at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland and has served with many national and international organizations concerned with bioethics.
www.alexandermccallsmith.com
BOOKS BY ALEXANDER MCCALL SMITH
IN THE 44 SCOTLAND STREET SERIES
44 Scotland Street
Espresso Tales
Love over Scotland
The World According to Bertie
The Unbearable Lightness of Scones
The Importance of Being Seven
Bertie Plays the Blues
Sunshine on Scotland Street
IN THE NO. 1 LADIES’ DETECTIVE AGENCY SERIES
The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency
Tears of the Giraffe
Morality for Beautiful Girls
The Kalahari Typing School for Men
The Full Cupboard of Life
In the Company of Cheerful Ladies
Blue Shoes and Happiness
The Good Husband of Zebra Drive
The Miracle at Speedy Motors
Tea Time for the Traditionally Built
The Double Comfort Safari Club
The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party
The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection
The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon
The Handsome Man’s Deluxe Cafe
FOR YOUNG READERS
The Great Cake Mystery
The Mystery of Meerkat Hill
The Mystery of the Missing Lion
IN THE ISABEL DALHOUSIE SERIES
The Sunday Philosophy Club
Friends, Lovers, Chocolate
The Right Attitude to Rain
The Careful Use of Compliments
The Comforts of a Muddy Saturday
The Lost Art of Gratitude
The Charming Quirks of Others
The Forgotten Affairs of Youth
The Perils of Morning Coffee (eBook only)
The Uncommon Appeal of Clouds
IN THE CORDUROY MANSIONS SERIES
Corduroy Mansions
The Dog Who Came in from the Cold
A Conspiracy of Friends
IN THE PORTUGUESE IRREGULAR VERBS SERIES
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs
At the Villa of Reduced Circumstances
Unusual Uses for Olive Oil
OTHER WORKS
La’s Orchestra Saves the World
The Girl Who Married a Lion and Other Tales from Africa
Trains and Lovers
The Forever Girl
AN ANCHOR BOOKS ORIGINAL, AUGUST 2014
Copyright © 2012 by Alexander McCall Smith
Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Iain McIntosh
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Anchor Books, a division of Random House LLC, New York, a Penguin Random House company. Originally published in hardcover in Great Britain by Polygon, an imprint of Birlinn Ltd., Edinburgh, in 2012.
Anchor Books and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House LLC.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is excerpted from a series that originally appeared in The Scotsman newspaper.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
McCall Smith, Alexander, 1948–Sunshine on Scotland Street : a 44 Scotland Street novel / by Alexander McCall Smith ; illustrations by Iain McIntosh.
pages cm.—(44 Scotland Street ; book 8)
1. Families—Scotland—Fiction. 2. Edinburgh (Scotland)—Fiction. 3. Humorous fiction. I. McIntosh, Iain, illustrator. II. Title.
PR6063.C326S88 2014
823′.914—dc23 2014009673
Anchor Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-0-345-80440-2
eBook ISBN: 978-0-345-80441-9
Author illustration © Iain McIntosh
Cover illustration © Iain McIntosh
www.anchorbooks.com
v3.1
This book is for Barbara Fleischman
Contents
Cover
About the Author
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1. Omertà, and Fascinators
2. Late Climbers
3. Buildings, Bridges, Whisky
4. How We See the World, and Scotland
5. The Misunderstanding of Glencoe
6. Subjects and Symbols in Art
7. Matthew Is Sorely Tested
8. Au Contraire
9. A Room at the Gritti Palace
10. Irregular Marriages in Scots Law
11. The Campbell Kilt Is Repaired
12. Dearly Beloved
13. Bruce Visits Crieff
14. Bruce Meets Two Sporting Girls
15. Bruce Meets Mike Snazz at Watsonians Rugby Club
16. At Prestonfield House Hotel
17. Lament for a Bird
18. Cyril in Exile
19. Cyril in Disgrace
20. Dog Therapy
21. Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen
22. The Reel of the 51st
23. A Danish Proposal
24. The Man from Mains of Mochle
25. The Cuddliness of Thistles
26. On Psychotherapy and Freedom
27. The Benefits of Self-Government
28. At the Home of Ranald Braveheart Macpherson
29. Malt Does More
30. Navy Envy etc.
31. The Doppelganger
32. Rugby Types
33. The Red Hot Chili Peppers et al.
34. Out of the Mouths of Pre-Teens and the Non-Formula-Fed …
35. Ranald Braveheart Macpherson’s Mother Receives a Telephone Call
36. A Memory of Foxes
37. Student Life
38. T. Eliot Top Bard …
39. The Caravaggio Within
40. Ethics of Filming Giraffes … and People
41. Observation
42. Jonathan Makes a Proposition to B
ruce
43. You Have My Life, I’ll Have Yours
44. Shuggie McGrath and Other Memories
45. A Visit to St. Bennet’s
46. Pleasant Semi-Somnolence
47. Cold Showers and Other Reactionary Preoccupations
48. Tablet Is Full of Sugar
49. The Wolf Man Again
50. A Fiscally Responsible Boy
51. Like Tiny Carrot-Lepers
52. The Tragedy of the Carrot-Men
53. A Tiny Carrot Icarus
54. Svengali, EH3
55. Young Spartans and a Moleskine Notebook
56. The Hazards of Industrial Espionage
57. The Tricks of the Documentary Trade
58. Big Lou Remembers MacDiarmid
59. Bursting a Boil Just Like Vesuvius
60. The Life of Bacteria
61. Jonathan’s Doubts
62. Encounter in Dundas Street
63. Economic Statistics, and Other Creative Activities
64. One Out of Three
65. Consultation Over
66. The Turner Prize!
67. News for Bruce
68. Millions of Pounds
69. Big Lou Goes Viral
70. The Wisdom of Solomon
71. Matthew’s Decision
72. On the Importance of the Local
73. A Reunion and a Vision
74. The Good Fortune of Others
75. Of Cheese Straws and Charity
1. Omertà, and Fascinators
Even if she had not been an anthropologist, Domenica Macdonald would have understood the very particular significance of weddings. Anthropologists – and sociologists too, perhaps even more so – often tell us what we already know, or what we expect to hear, or perhaps what we are not surprised to learn. And so we all know, as did Domenica, that weddings are far more than marriage ceremonies; we know that they are occasions for family stock-taking and catharsis; that they furnish opportunities for naked displays of emotion and unscheduled tears; that they are a stage for sartorial and social ostentation; that they are far from the simple public exchange of vows they appear to be.
These insights had been impressed upon Domenica decades earlier by a visiting professor, one Salvatore Santaluca of the Istituto-Antropologico-Sociologico-Culturale of the University of Palermo. Santaluca’s study of the traditional marriage practices of the hill villages of Sicily was something of an anthropological classic, considered by some to be the equal of Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa, exposing the labyrinthine negotiations and discussions that preceded such weddings. Unfortunately, the publication of these details was viewed in some circles in Sicily as a breach of omertà, and the professor had some months later been shot in a restaurant in Messina, a crime that had yet to be solved, largely because those who were charged with investigating it were precisely the people who had committed it. Things had changed since then, of course, and the Italian state had tackled the criminal culture that had for so long blighted its southern regions; too late, though, for Santaluca and the various courageous Italian magistrates and policemen who had taken on the secretive bullies holding an entire state to ransom.
It rather surprised Domenica that she should suddenly think of poor Professor Santaluca after all these years. But it was quite understandable, really, that she should be contemplating the institution of marriage and its customs, given that she was herself about to get married – to Angus Lordie – and was now sitting in her flat in Scotland Street, attended by her friend, Big Lou, preparing for the moment – only three hours away – when she would walk through the door of St. Mary’s Cathedral in Palmerston Place. Her entry would be to the accompaniment of “Sheep May Safely Graze” by Johann Sebastian Bach, this piece having been selected by Angus, who had a soft spot for Bach. Domenica had acceded to this provided that it would be her choice of music to be played as they left. That was Charles Marie Widor’s Toccata, from his Symphony No. 5, a triumphant piece of music if ever there was one.
“People will love it,” she said. “It’s such a statement.”
“Of what?” Angus had asked.
“Of the fact that the marriage has definitely taken place,” said Domenica. “It’s not a piece of music that admits of any … how should I put it?… uncertainty.”
“Maybe,” said Angus. “It’s the opposite of peelie-wersh, I suppose.”
Domenica was interested. As with many Scots expressions, the meaning of peelie-wersh was obvious, even to those who had never encountered the term before. “And which composers would be peelie-wersh?”
“Some of the minimalists. The ones who use two or three notes. The ones you have to strain to hear. Thin music. Widor is thickly textured.”
They had moved on to discuss the hymns. Domenica felt vaguely uncomfortable when it came to hymns. She understood why people sang them – they performed a vital bonding function and undoubtedly buoyed the spirits – but she felt that the words rarely bore close examination, mostly being rather sentimental and somewhat repetitive. There were exceptions, of course: the words of “For Those in Peril on the Sea” were cogent and to the point. It was entirely reasonable, she felt, particularly in an age of global warming and rising sea levels, to express the desire that “the mighty ocean deep / Its own appointed limits keep.” But could one sing that at a wedding? One might at a mariner’s nuptials, perhaps, but neither she nor Angus were sailors. And then there was “Fight the Good Fight” which again had a perfectly clear message, but was clearly inappropriate for a wedding service, unless, of course, it was that of a pugilist, in which case the words would be taken as referring to professional rather than marital conflicts. “Jerusalem” was inspirational but referred to England, rather than to Scotland, and would seem quite out of place in a Scottish wedding. “Jerusalem” was inappropriate, too, Domenica felt, because right at its opening it asked a question to which the answer was almost certainly no. Its first line, stirring and dramatic though it may be, “And did those feet in ancient times …” invited the firm answer No, they certainly did not, words which could perhaps be set to music to be sung as a descant by the choir.
Angus had not been particularly helpful in his suggestions. He had himself composed the words of a hymn some time ago when he had offered to the hymn revision committee of the Church of Scotland a composition called “God Looks Down on Belgium.” The opening words of this hymn, however, proved to be not quite what the committee wanted: “God’s never heard of Belgium / But loves it just the same / For God is kind and doesn’t mind / He’s not impressed with fame.” The second verse was even more unsuitable, making reference to Captain Haddock and Tintin, both of whom, it was felt, had no place in a modern, or any, hymn book.
“You do remember that I wrote a hymn called ‘God Looks Down on Belgium’?” said Angus.
Domenica gave him a warning glance. “I do indeed, Angus, and we are certainly not having that.”
“Pity. I always rather liked it.”
Now, sitting at her dressing table, while Big Lou attempted to fix on the fascinator she had acquired at great expense from a milliner in Fife – “One hundred and eighty pounds for four feathers!” Big Lou had exclaimed – Domenica remembered her first wedding. That had been so different. It had taken place in India, in Kerala, where she had married the eldest son of a Cochin mercantile family and had become for a brief time Mrs. Varghese.
That wedding, like many Indian weddings, had lasted for days, with legions of relatives and friends coming from all over India and beyond. It had not been a particularly happy marriage and was very brief, her husband being electrocuted in the small electricity factory owned by his family. She regretted him, but, if she was honest with herself, she did not miss him unduly; nor did she miss her former mother-in-law. Angus came with no family baggage of that sort – except for his dog Cyril.
Domenica knew that she was taking on Cyril, but felt that given a choice – between an impossible mother-in-law or a dog – many might choose th
e latter … discreetly, of course.
2. Late Climbers
“Does it really matter what I wear?” asked Domenica. “This obsession with the bride’s outfit is understandable when the bride is twenty-something, but in my case …”
“Everybody will be just as interested,” said Big Lou, still struggling with the fascinator she was attempting to pin into Domenica’s hair. “It doesn’t matter how old the bride is … not that you’re all that old, Domenica.”
She was not quite sure how old Domenica was. Forty-five? A bit more? Or less, perhaps? And Angus was difficult to date too: in some lights he looked as if he was barely into his forties; in others, he looked considerably older. He was one of those people who could have been anything.
“I suppose age adds character,” said Domenica. “Or so we can console ourselves.” She looked in the mirror. It would have been ridiculous to wear a conventional bridal dress. It would have been mutton dressed up as lamb, she thought – a metaphor that would mean less and less as people forgot about the distinction. Where could one buy mutton these days? It seemed more or less to have disappeared; everything, it seemed, was lamb because lambs presumably did not have the chance to reach muttonhood. So the expression would go, and the language would be further impoverished. Tell that not in Gath. That had gone completely by now, as had the habit of piling Pelion upon Ossa. Or making it to the altar. To the what? a contemporary teenager might be expected to ask. Down the aisle. Down the what?
“Yes,” said Big Lou through lips pursed to hold two hairpins. “I can’t be doing with those smooth faces that you see on film stars. You know the sort? All smooth – no lines. Nothing that shows us where the face has been.”
“A few lines,” agreed Domenica. “But one would hardly like to look too much like a prune.” She paused. The fascinator was not going to hold; she was sure of it. “Or like W. H. Auden.”
“The loon with the wrinkly face?”
“Yes. His face was described as looking like a wedding cake left out in the rain.”
Big Lou laughed. “It was a good face.”
“Yes. He referred to it as a geological catastrophe. And of course he smoked, which must have made it worse. The kippering effect.” She paused again. “You know something, Lou? I feel slightly embarrassed about all this.”