Stone of Destiny (29 page)

I began this last chapter of my book by saying I had never seen the Stone again. It had been my intention to wait until Scotland achieved independence before paying it a visit. We are so nearly there that it makes no odds. An occasion is coming up in 2008 when I may break my long abstinence. I have mentioned that my book has been made into a film. Although it is no part of my story, the film may give closure and bring me back full circle to my youth nearly 60 years ago. On the evening of its Edinburgh premiere Alex Salmond and the Scottish Government are to give
a reception in the Great Hall of Edinburgh Castle. It is a long way from a two-up two-down semi in a Paisley suburb to the Great Hall of my country’s greatest castle. It has taken me all my life. If invited, and I am told I will be, I shall go. If my country’s First Minister takes my arm and leads me through to the Crown Room to see the Stone I shall go with him. I have never sought an honour, but I can think of none greater.

As for my long life, breaking into a holy place is not good preparation for entry into the most conservative of professions, but I survived. We three survivors of the original four are now very old. This exercise in looking back is not typical of me, nor so far as I know of them. Life is for living and even at my great age I prefer a motorbike to a keyboard.

I repeat myself as old men do. Remember us with some kindness. What we did we did for Scotland and what we do for Scotland we do for all the world.

When on 25 March 1707 James Ogilvie, Earl of Seafield, Chancellor of Scotland, signed the Act of Union, ending Scotland’s ancient independence, and merging the two parliaments of Scotland and England into the United Kingdom Parliament, he threw down the quill with these words: ‘Now there’s the end of an auld sang.’

It may be, it just may be, that on Christmas Day 1950 four young people wrote a new verse to that old song. Whatever we did, the song is still being sung.