The Courier & Advertiser (Angus and Dundee)
Council tax freeze harms everyone
Sir, – Your editorial last Thursday (‘Councils bestplaced to tax and spend?’, The Courier, February 25) pointed towards the folly of a council tax freeze.
In Perth and Kinross we are still suffering from the SNP tax freeze that, after 10 years, tore well over £10 million from our council budget every year. The same applies this year. If the cash provided to the council is not baselined it will cost us all more than £17 million over the next five years.
This harms everyone and means more cuts in local services thanks to the SNP. Councillor Willie Wilson. Scottish Liberal Democrats, Perth City South.
Episode 69
C beach.al says: “You could always pretend you found it in the house. I won’t tell if you won’t. “Besides, we found it on your Hell mend them, I say. It’s yours to keep.”
“I can’t make my mind up about any of this right now, Cal. It’s all too much.”
“Are you thinking of trying to keep the house as well?”
“It had crossed my mind. Yes.”
“It’s an expensive business. The upkeep of a place like this.”
“And I don’t have that sort of cash. But maybe I can sell some of this stuff. I don’t want to become a hoarder.”
“All antique dealers have the potential to be hoarders. It’s in our DNA, I think.”
“Isn’t that the truth? You have to learn to live with things and let them go.
“But I’ve never had to deal with something as huge as this before, and so personal as well.”
“You don’t have to make any immediate decisions, do you?”
He looks at his watch. “Listen, I have to go. I have work to do.”
“What are you working on?”
“I’m renovating a piece of furniture. It’s an old Scots dresser with spice drawers along the top. Bit like the one in your kitchen. I’ve got it down at Carraig.
“But there’s a customer for it and Mum promised it would be ready in a week and I’m nowhere near finished.”
“I’d love to see it.”
“Come down, any time.”
Settling in
He hesitates. She’s suddenly shy of him, not sure how to pick up where they left off, or even if she should try.
“I’m going to leave Hector with you for a few days,” he says firmly. “Just till you settle in properly.”
The dog, who has been lying comfortably in the middle of the biggest rug, pricks up his ears at the sound of his name and sits up, thumping his tail on the floor.
“You’re going to stay here,” Cal says. Hector wags his tail obligingly.
“I’ve brought his bed and some food.” “There’s no need, honestly,” she says, but he can see that she’s half-hearted in her rejection of the plan.
The truth is that it would be nice to have the dog in the house at night.
It crosses her mind that it would be even nicer to have Cal in the house at night, but he doesn’t seem willing to take things further at the moment, or even to resume whatever they had begun.
Still, he’s willing to leave his beloved dog with her.
“No. I’d feel happier about it. Humour me, Daisy,” he replies.
“I know it’s fine in the daytime, when the sun’s shining and the birds are singing, but it’s different at night.
“Even at Carraig, it’s different at night, and I know every single stone and each blade of grass down there.”
“I’ve been leaving the television or the radio on. Or singing loudly.”
“Do you sing?” He’s intrigued.
“A bit,” she laughs, slightly embarrassed. “My mum was the songbird in our family, but Dad says I’m not half bad.
“Which is a compliment coming from him.”
“What do you sing?”
“Oh traditional stuff. What else, with my background? ‘The Lea Rig’, ‘Will Ye Go, Lassie, Go’, ‘A Red, Red Rose’.
“But I don’t sing in public. Or very seldom and only when I’ve had a few glasses of wine!”
Cal heads off and returns with Hector’s essentials – his lead, dishes, bed, blanket and a ravaged toy that he says is a favourite.
She puts the bed at the bottom of the stairs, the dog food and water dishes in the kitchen.
Sudden impulse
Hector gets into his bed, turns around three times and lies down, but gets up again anxiously when Cal heads for the door.
“You’re staying here for a wee while, pal,” he says.
He turns before he opens the door, and as though on a sudden impulse, pulls Daisy into his arms and embraces her, quite brusquely.
He kisses her, his hand gently on the back of her neck.
“Come down and see me at Carraig,” he says. “I really have to get this thing finished but come down soon.
“Tomorrow if you like. Hector’s fine in the car. He’ll just sit beneath the passenger seat. You won’t need to put him in the back.”
After he leaves, Hector whines and sniffs deeply under the door, but when she goes through to the kitchen to make something to eat for both of them, he seems to resign himself to his new circumstances and patters after her obediently enough.
Dangerous desire
She has never seen a more amenable dog. She wonders if his owner is quite so amenable and still finds herself doubting it, although whenever her thoughts touch on him now, she feels a little tingle of dangerous desire.
Later that night, Hector lies at her feet as she watches the television.
She finds his presence reassuring, just as Cal intended, until she sees him sit bolt upright, watching something across the room, his eyes following some movement or other.
She comforts herself with the thought that it must be an insect, a spider or moth perhaps.
When she peers at the wall, in the direction of his gaze, she can see nothing except the portrait of Lilias, but although he is staring vaguely in that direction, he doesn’t seem to be especially fixated on it.
He doesn’t seem distressed by whatever he’s watching either, just interested.
“What is it, Hector?” she asks him. “What are you watching?”
He looks round at her and wags his tail, putting his ears back in acknowledgement of her question, then cocks them again and carries on watching whatever is absorbing him.
He wags his tail, fractionally, now and then, and once or twice lifts and stamps his front paws impatiently, but at last, and greatly to her relief, he settles down and falls asleep, waking only when she lets him out for a late-night pee.
She has a momentary worry that he might head off home, but he comes indoors when she calls and settles down in his bed at the foot of the stairs.
She finds Hector’s presence reassuring, until she sees him sit bolt upright, watching something across the room