"His Face With Smile Eternal Drest, Just Like The Landlord's To His Guest's, High As They Hang With Creaking Din, To Index Out The Country Inn." Versicles On Sign-Posts by Robert Burns 1788.

"The Needle Returns To The Start Of The Song, And We All Sing Along As Before." Nothing Ever Happens, Del Amitri 1989.

January 2020.

Fred Buckle clambered up from the cellar of the Crown Inn and perched his ample posterior on a bar stool wiping his forehead with an old bar towel he used when helping Paddy exchange the old barrels for new. Violet tutted as she placed a sausage sandwich and a mug of tea on the bar in front of him.

"Sure you don't want one, Paddy."

"No, I am fine Vi, just a cuppa, cheers. I had breakfast with Bernie before she went on her rounds."

"I will have another one, Violet"

"I am sure you won't Reggie. You scoffed that back like there was no tomorrow, doesn't your uncle feed you."

No one replied to this as everyone knew Violet fed them both, if not at the Crown, at either her home or Fred's. To spare Violet's blushes, Fred began.

"I have a little beauty brewing, be just right for Burns Night, Doc."

"Burn's Night?" questioned Vi.

"Yep, soon comes around after Christmas, Vi. Be Valentines before we know it." He winked and Vi wiped a cloth under Paddy's mug and straightened the bar towel.

"Fred, I don't think so, not this year anyway." Paddy added, trying not to look at Val, who was checking the mixer fridge with visibly shaking shoulders.

"But we always do a Burns Night it's tradition," protested Fred.

"No, we haven't done one for the last couple of years Fred, not since Wilf took poorly." Vi had regained her composure.

"Well, it's about time we did again." Fred was like a dog with a bone or in this case a sausage.

Val also more composed now, looked at Vi, who was in turn looking at Paddy. Tim, who had been trying to clean all the chalk marks off the dart scoreboard under Evie's instruction, looked at his mentor and they both moved closer to the bar.

"Look, I know, Bernie. She won't be upset because her dad's not here to do the twiddly bits. She wouldn't still be in Poplar if she was worried about being reminded of her dad."

"Always wondered why she was still in Poplar," Tim smirked and Evie frowned at him deciding it was time to enlighten everyone.

"The reason we haven't had a Burns Night since Reverend Wilf died is because we have no one to address the Haggis."

"Well, Mr T could do it," Reggie chirped in as Paddy went pale.

"Yeah, you'll like that boss," Val added, "any excuse to slope off and leave me on my todd behind the bar. I presume birthday girl Lorraine Kelly Mannion won't be working either."

Evie and Vi sighed in unison.

"What?" said Val.

Paddy turned to her, but before he could speak, Val interrupted,

"Don't tell me you are scared of haggis as well as alpacas."

Tim, Reggie and a lurking Jack found this highly amusing, but Evie had had enough.

"No, it's not that, it really should be a Scot that addresses the haggis otherwise it's just not going to sound right, a bit like well like when Captain Kirk sang Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds."

"Isn't that your ringtone, Tim?" Jack smirked. Tim ignored him as per se.

"Weezer doing Africa," Val was beginning to understand.

"Miley Cyrus doing Nirvana," Tim added, still ignoring Jack.

"But, Bernie is Scottish!" added Reggie optimistically

"Yes, but it's traditionally a man," Vi said nervously.

"Oh, well, heaven forbid we bring Poplar into the 21st century," Val cried. "How do you know all this anyway, you two?"

"We have been doing this for years. Wilf was a member of the Burns Society. Val you were there at the last one we had, must have been?" Violet explained.

"Oh, I was there alright, working behind the bar, sorry if I didn't have time to memorize ancient Scottish protocol while fighting off the thirsty English hoards."

"Can we all just calm down," Paddy sounded exasperated, and it wasn't even ten o'clock. "Look, I appreciate while Wilf was alive and in Evie's time we celebrated Burns Night." He continued a little firmer. "Me and Mazz tried to keep it going as long as Wilf was around, but he is gone. Let's be honest Wilf arranged everything even the piper was his mate from Kelso. Do you have his number Evie? I know I don't." The ex-landlady shook her head. "Come on, let's admit it we are just pissing in the wind."

"Dad."

"But it's for Bernie, you do know it's also her birthday?" Val said sulkily.

"Yes. I do know, and if I know Bernie, she would rather just go to the pictures and a Parmo then all this fuss,"

"Would she really?" grumbled Val.

"Dad."

"I do know how to prepare a good Burns supper, never had any complaints in all the years." Vi sounded defeated.

"I brewed some ale specially." Fred's tone was flat in a way his beer never was.

"Dad."

"Paddy is right. Burns Night was Wilf's night gave him a chance to show off without having to stand behind a pulpit." Evie reminisced. "For one night only, he could be Wilf Mannion in a kilt and not Poplar's vicar in a dog collar. If we can't do it properly, we shouldn't do it at all." Evie nodded toward Paddy.

Thank you, he mouthed in return.

"Dad."

"Does anyone else think we are overthinking this." Val never took no for an answer,

"Yes." Reggie cried.

"Basically, all we need is someone who is Scottish, I mean if I have to hike up to the Borders myself and toss one over my shoulder and bring em back I will," Val quipped,

"Dad."

"Not now, Tim."

"But Dad."

"Not now, Tim."

"Do they have to be 100% Scottish?" Tim asked facing Vi and Evie who seemed to be the authority on this. They looked at each other, but Val stepped in.

"I don't know Tim, I will just look at the rule book. Oh, look at that there isn't one"

"I think we would settle for a left bollock's worth right now," muttered a despondent Fred.

"Fred, there is no need to be vulgar! Reggie don't listen to him." Vi reprimanded.

"I could do it then," said Tim.

"You have a Scottish bollock, Turner. Does Lucy know?"

"Jack Smith!" Scalded Violet as Reggie chuckled.

"No, Smithy, but my Gran was Scottish."

Tim blushed from the neck up as is the way of teenage boys when the whole room is looking at them.

"Your gran, so Marianne's mother," Evie enquired.

"No, Dad's mam."

All eyes moved towards Paddy, who seemed to lose as much colour as Tim had gained.

"OK, so I don't think we are going to get any further today. We open in five, everyone back to work."