For the second time that day Rob and the others immersed themselves in the warm, welcoming glow of the bar in the Red Lion, this time being looked after by landlord Hamish Allen.
“First of all Laird, may I welcome you and your party to my humble village hostelry. It may not be what you are used to down south but its home to me”
“Hamish, should you really be waiting tables?” Rob enquired
“Certainly, your highlandness, why should I not be?”
“Because you’re so full of bullshit Hamish you must constitute a health hazard.”
“No, I washed my hands yesterday, so you’ll be OK.”
“Now, can I get you some drinks? We have a full range of beers, all passed by the management of course and some elegant wines, the grapes for which I trampled with my own dainty feet. Or you can have your usual Sauvign
