A century on from the referendum that saw Leith become part of Edinburgh, Susan Morrison senses passions are being mildly inflamed.
It’s the anniversary of the referendum this year. No, not that referendum. Or that one. The one joining Leith to Edinburgh.
Old tensions are reawakening. Demands to reassert Leith’s independence are being muttered on street corners. Century-old grievances are being warmed up again like yesterday’s leftover beans, such as why did we have to change our street names and that lot up there didn’t?
There’s fresh fuel for old grudges. Local passions have been mildly inflamed by the announced temporary removal of the South Leith Parish church wall for the tramworks.
Also having a temporary shift are some of the graves. Have these people never seen Poltergeist?
Everyone knows how that ends. We get the gravestones moved, but the coffins stay put because someone cut corners on the budget, then the trams disturb the sacred sleep of the departed and the next thing you know the Victorian undead are storming Poundland for doublesided tape to reattach bits that have gone astray, like fingers and toes.
Mind you, I suspect lurching reanimated corpses would barely warrant a second glance in the Kirkgate. The DWP would probably assess them as fit for work.
If Leith launches a bid for freedom, we’d need a name for such a movement. We could call it Leith Leaves, but that would be LeLe, which sounds like a dodgy cabaret singer. We could go for Lexit, but it’s a bit too close to Brexit, and we’re too independently minded for that sort of thing.
I do have minor concerns about such a move. For example, in the event of a hard border between Leith and Edinburgh, will I still be able to get to John Lewis? Get that negotiated and I’m in.