I TELL people sometimes how I long for the day when Maureen, my 87-year-old mum will stop offering detailed critiques of my articles. But they know I don’t really mean it.

Nevertheless, I walk a tightrope whenever I’ve addressed issues concerning her beloved Catholic Church.

A few years ago I wrote about the sacred relics of St Therese of Lisieux (her bones) touring parts of Lanarkshire in what I considered to be a rather macabre, medievalist ritual that does the church no favours. Can we not just leave this poor wee French nun to rest in peace, I’d suggested.

The phone call came later that day. “Kevin, you don’t know how mortifying it is when your friends approach you after Mass and ask you what possessed your son to write stuff like that. The Church has enough enemies without you sticking in your tuppence worth.” In West of Scotland parlance, I’d been firmly tellt.

Mostly, she’s quite benevolent, though never gushing. In our family, effusiveness and sentimentality indicate weakness and self-indulgence. “Read your article the other week: it was fine. Anyway, what’s happening with Celtic? Do you think Martin can turn it around?”

She’s attended a mere handful of Celtic games in her life-time. Yet, like many women of her age with Irish heritage, she treats this club as though it’s an extension to her own family.

“What do you think Trump’s playing at? There’s something wrong with that man. Why do some men think that bombing people is always the answer?

“Are the SNP getting back in again? How can people be so gullible? That Sturgeon has a lot to answer for. Why is she being allowed to swan about with her book? Has anyone actually read it?”

Her late antipathy towards the SNP takes up much of our conversation these days. It wasn’t always like this. In those heady 2014 referendum days she’d been evangelised into the Yes movement by my two daughters, one of whom had set up camp on........

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