Adam

Adam was a mate. We’d send him into shops for fags, booze, fireworks and other stuff we weren’t meant to have.

Adam had shite for brains, but he was an aspirational numpty.

‘Withoot money ye can dae fuck all. This toon’s a complete shit hoose.’

When that plane crashed into Lockerbie, Adam demonstrated his entrepreneurial flair. Like the modern day Scottish equivalent of a Cornish wrecker he went straight there and started robbing the bodies.

He pocketed a watch and other stuff before they collared him.

The sheriff gave Adam his first break.

He didn’t send him back to Hawick.