On the way up, the Royal Scots Club

Published on Monday 27 October 2008 08:52

CELEBRATION for the elevation. The Royal Scots Club needs a lift and it's getting one at last. Providing planning is granted next month, the A-listed edifice on six floors in Abercromby Place will boast an additional access on the lower floors in a million-pound refurb.

Much joy among the 1650 members of the venerable club built in 1921. Says chairman of the trustees Brian Adair: "When we entertained in May a soldier from the Royal Regiment of Scotland, back in Edinburgh from being wounded in Iraq, we relied on colleagues to carry him. That was a bit embarrassing, where a lift would have been ideal."

Otherwise, the club is thriving. Says general manager Adrian Hayes: "We've had another good year. It's a strength-to-strength situation and the lift – something we've wanted for a long time but never easy to introduce to an A-listed building – is the icing on the cake."

Presumably the club has dropped a line to Princess Anne. She'll be delighted. Her Royal Highness has frequented the premises on occasion, although pressure of engagements will have prevented a visit this year.

No solace here

C'mon, the script for Quantum of Solace, due in Edinburgh on Friday, was written by a bloke called Paul Haggis and what do you expect? From almost all accounts, it's a let-down of a movie.

Haggis? Smacks of a pudding to me. We're talking offal and an appropriately awful picture. Quantum of Solace . . . do you chew it, swallow it or just bury it?

Franks a lot

For no reason, other than that we both obviously still worship at Sinatra's shrine, a reader has sent me an atmospheric snap of the master in mid-Mack the Knife at Ibrox in July 1990.

No name, just a franked "Chesser House, Gorgie Road" brown envelope. From a Jambo? Nah. Cannae be. Thanks for the memory, anyway. I was there.

Afterwords . .

. . . What did Cheery Blair do next? Cheery? She has to be, having blown 30,000 on an exercise pool for their country mansion. Reportedly house guest David Blunkett, a flashing red light on his bonce, tried it out but was promptly heaved out, deemed a danger to shipping.