Telling it properly will take a bit of rambling into history.
I have written before about our family tragedy which took the life of my big sister in a horrible way.
In the last few months this very old story has added a second chapter. And to bring you up to date I have to introduce Joe and Maggie, and just a little coincidence.
Ratho Mains, where the fire that killed Alison took place, was sold shortly afterwards, it was bought by a dairy farmer (and so much more) called Peter Barry. His family included a son called Joe.
When I arrived at Edinburgh University in 1973 to study agriculture (any review of my academic career would reveal that I use the term study rather loosely) one of my class mates was this very same Joe Barry. We have now been friends for well over 40 years, all the more so as he married Maggie who was a 3rd year flatmate of mine.
Over the years Joe has become more interested in Alison's story and I have had occasional envelopes arrive at Kilduncan with press cuttings about the fire.
So now we are in 2015 and the shed where Alison died still exists, in fact it is built of whinstone, a mineral so hard that it may stand for
Joe's business has changed; the cows have gone, a large new shed supplies the 21st century needs of the farm and the old stone buildings have found new uses.
One of these sheds has been taken by a charity called Kids Love Clothes. By just another tweak of coincidence it is the shed where Alison died.
Kids Love Clothes collect donated clothes in the Edinburgh area and wash, iron and sort them into age and gender packages. So if a social worker calls and mentions a 6 year old girl who has no decent clothing they will make up a package with clothing, underwear, shoes, maybe even a wee toy or two to fit this little girl and to help make her life a little more decent
Now you and I may rage that in one of the richest countries in the world a British government has engineered a situation where clothing banks and food banks are necessary to give so many people the bare necessities.
At the same time we have to be so grateful that there are heroic groups like Kids Love Clothes who work so hard to cover the gap (with no government or council funding).
Now it turns out that Joe has told Alison's story to the charity and they have found enough inspiration to name the room where they will be sorting clothes Alison's Room.
On Saturday they had an open day. Mostly this allowed potential helpers, suppliers and beneficiaries to see exactly what they do. They also invited the Peddie family through to unveil a lovely plaque in Alison's memory.
Joe and I made speeches, although there were tears. Joe lost it first, but I was always going to go as I tried to say how much this gesture means to me and my brothers, and how much more it would have meant to mum and dad to see their sadness associated with so much hope for the future.
Maggie made us lunch and old friends arrived unexpectedly to join us in eating it. Already a really good day. And it got better.
Ben and I had a birthday party nearly a year ago, and one present we have been treasuring in anticipation was the dining voucher for the Cellar.
Now the Peddie family and the Cellar have as much history as we have with the Barry family.
My first visit was in 1985 when dad took the whole family to try to put the taste of a disastrous harvest out of our minds. On that evening Clare was our waitress and although we didn't meet that night we did a little more than a year later and have been together ever since. And until she went back to University of St Andrews and set herself on an academic career, she carried on working there.
As you can imagine this wonderful restaurant as well as being owned and run by dear friends has been the focus of Peddie celebrations for 30 years.
There has been tragedy here too and the restaurant faced a very uncertain future after Peter's untimely death. But cometh the hour cometh the man.
In this case the man is Billy Boyter. And once again, as a man I am ignoring the contribution of Patricia who saw the possibilities in the Cellar and came back from Edinburgh to look after front of house. The style of cooking is utterly different but the quest for perfection is unchanged and gained Cellar a michelin star in his first year of operation.
So to say our mouths were watering in anticipation when Ben and Carly and Clare and I arrived in a taxi at 6.25 on Saturday evening would be an understatement. Now don't worry. I am not going to describe the meal in detail. The level of drooling this would induce in me might well damage my tablet.
Suffice it to say we had the full tasting menu with wine pairings (perhaps the best matched wines I have ever drunk on a tasting menu).
We may have spent slightly more than the voucher amount (or blown it out of the water) but we laughed and chatted and had as good an evening in a restaurant as I can remember. Thank you so much Billy and Patricia
And so to health matters. Tomorrow, Thursday we are back to Ninewells for the results of the last scan. Pictures will show tumour progress and Dr Adamson will discuss chemo and perhaps radiotherapy.
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