JAMIE STONE: An accident waiting to happen, but hopefully not!
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Jamie's Journal by Jamie Stone
It all started over a pint at a pub that no longer exists, the Aultnamain Inn, on the Struie road behind Tain.
It had been a long shift in the Nigg yard and the beer was more than welcome. It was during the second pint that the four of us agreed we would make a date and go and have our fortunes told by the great Highland Seer, Swein Macdonald.
Now no longer with us, Swein was a famous figure in his day. Many were the folk from the far north who went to his Ardgay croft house to be told what the future held for them.
On the winter evening in question, I was the second to be ushered into the darkened living room by his wife – but not before I had noticed the worried face of the man who had gone before me as he emerged from the selfsame room.
"Aye, sit there".
The deal was that the none of us told Swein who we were, thus to ensure a more accurate (or perhaps more inaccurate) divination. As Swein gazed at me thoughtfully in the gloom, I noted the glass of whisky at his elbow and the strong smell of joss sticks.
"I see a small boy running by the sea with a large yellow dog..."
This was astonishing! I had been brought up on a small farm on the south side of the Dornoch Firth. And there was a yellow dog! He was called Gus. When I was exceptionally hungry as a toddler, which was often, I'm afraid that I used to sometimes help myself to his dog biscuits.
"Aye, and you're working with the oil, I'm thinking...".
Yeh, right. That was a pretty easy shot, given how many people worked in the Nigg yard at that time.
When it was over, our thoughts were two-fold as we discussed them once again at the Aultnamain Inn. Firstly, there might be something in his powers. In some respects, he had been uncannily accurate with all four of us. On the other hand, four young adults capable of rational thought, we did feel slightly guilty about having succumbed to his fame and cult. Could it all have been a trick?
One thing that Swein told me that cold night was that I would have a motor accident. I wouldn't be hurt in any way, but my vehicle would collide with the stone parapet of a bridge near Tain called the Quebec bridge.
You know, as I write, it still hasn't happened. For all this time, I wondered if it might be better to get out of the car at the top of the hill going down to the bridge, take off the hand brake, and give it a push. Better to get it over with.
The human mind is a strange thing, and the memory of Swein, even after all these years, flashed into my head as I sat in the Chamber of the House of Commons a few days ago and marvelled at how unexpected politics can be.
Who would have thought, only five years ago, that I'd witness four different Prime Ministers? Who would have thought that the leader of the SNP, my neighbouring MP Ian Blackford, would be deposed only a few days ago. He didn't see this coming – nor did Theresa May, Boris Johnson or Liz Truss. Some years ago, I made up a little mantra for myself, "in politics, expect the unexpected".
- Jamie Stone is the Liberal Democrat MP for Caithness, Sutherland and Easter Ross.
