Alexander Mccall Smith

Miss Campbell had been teaching for twelve years. She had graduated from Moray House as a fully qualified infant teacher at the age of twenty-three. She had subsequently undertaken training in Steiner Waldorf educational methods, and had studied, part-time, for an advanced certificate in the psychology of early years, awarded by the University of Stirling.

That conversation was helpful to Miss Campbell, as it gave her the chance to express her growing frustration over the series of contretemps that had followed Galactica’s enrolment in the class. The old order had had the merit of predictability: it was always possible to work out how Olive would behave, but now all that had been replaced by uncertainty, as Galactica MacFee established her ascendancy. What she was witnessing, Miss Campbell told herself, was a form of regime change – and regime change, at whatever level it occurred, was always unsettling. But recent incidents, Miss Campbell decided, were just the first salvos in a campaign that was to fail as quickly and precipitately as it initially succeeded. And the play, as it happened, was the thing, as it so often is …

Fat Bob was given extensive tests to determine what, if any, brain damage had occurred as a result of the gym incident. Scans of his head and neck revealed nothing abnormal, and after a few follow-up consultations he was discharged from hospital. All there was to remind him of the occurrence was a persistent Swedish accent. This symptom, though, attracted some medical attention, and even became the subject of an article in neurology journals, as well as a poster presentation at a conference in Berlin. There was an article in the news section of New Scientist, and a short report in the Matters of Interest column in Men’s Health.

Big Lou listened sympathetically to Bob’s account of his visit to Eddie’s workshop. When her husband had finished, she continued to gaze at him in her calm, no-nonsense way

The Fall of Galactica MacFee was how Miss Campbell described it to her friend Jennifer, the physical education teacher in the school’s primary division. That was the term she used as the two of them looked out over the playground from the staff common room, a welcome mid-morning cup of tea in hand..

‘So,” said Bruce, breezily. “Here we are, then. Review time.”He was seated in Big Lou’s café, along with Ben, Catriona and Matthew. Matthew had been the last to join them, having been engaged in conversation outside with a passing neighbour who wanted to discuss some matter of concern to local traders. He had eventually managed to detach himself and join the others over coffee.

In the kitchen of her flat in 44 Scotland Street, Domenica Macdonald was sitting with her friend, Dilly Emslie, preparing canapés for the party that she and Angus were throwing that evening – a gathering that had become a fixed and important feature of that point in the Edinburgh summer. The guest list was usually the same – a few old friends, neighbours from Scotland Street and Drummond Place, and the occasional new acquaintance to whom either of the hosts wished to extend the hand of closer friendship. And the sequence of events at the party followed the same pattern each year: a glass or two of wine, canapés, a buffet dinner of pasta and salad, and then the recital of a poem by Angus, written specially for the occasion. Nobody wanted any of that to change – why change things about when you are already doing things you like to do? Angus asked. And, unsurprisingly, he felt that nobody had ever come up with any convincing answer to that.

The guests at Angus and Domenica’s party had seated themselves in small groups, some around the kitchen table, others perched on sofas and sofa arms, or on cushions around the hearth. There was a place for everybody to sit if they were not too fussy or too selfish – just like the world we inhabit, Angus was fond of saying. There was enough room as long as one was prepared to share.

Writer Alexander McCall Smith has written a poem for the Lord Provost’s Burns Supper that will be auctioned for charity. It is a new version of ‘To a Mouse'

CHRISTINE PRISLAND shares her love of books, good storytelling, and a particular author that inspires and delights her Alexander McCall Smith