Quintin Jardine's blog

No, you have not lost the plot. These things happen. People often stumble over names in real life. My Grandma Bell was a mistress of the art; she invariably addressed me as ‘Eh Malcolm, eh George, eh Duncan, eh Quintin’. My youngest uncle swore that he was ten before he realised that his name was not ‘Eh Malcolm, eh George, eh Duncan’. Grandma died when my son was twenty months old, but even in that short  time he had become ‘Eh Malcolm, eh George, eh Duncan, eh Quintin, eh Allan’. And shouldn’t fiction reflect life?