My life-partner came from Glasgow and we made many trips to Scotland during our time on Earth together, and I made a few since. Although he came to London when he was in his teens and lost his Glaswegian accent, we of course kept in touch with his relatives who we visited, and who came down to visit us.
On our trips to Scotland we visited his many relatives in Easterhouse and Drumchapel, vast council housing schemes built after the Second World War to replace the bombed-out buildings and the slums. Unfortunately these areas were not exactly Welwyn Garden City or Hampstead Garden Suburb. Gangs roamed the streets – on my first visit up there George’s nephews told me if stopped in the street to say I was a member of such-and-such gang. As if I with my London accent would be believed, though now after many visits with his relatives I could at least attempt a Glaswegian accent.