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I note that the position is that the incoming Labour Government has apparently not reaffirmed its 50 per cent share of funding. Thankfully, Scottish Borders Council has agreed to progress with the appointment of a senior project manager to lead the delivery of the business case and feasibility work for the extension of the very successful Borders railway beyond Tweedbank to Carlisle, using the 50 per cent funding commitment that was announced by the Scottish Government in June this year—I note the caveat that the First Minister gave in that regard—in advance of receiving full approval to proceed from the UK Government.

Is it not of concern that Labour may be short changing Scotland in this very modest investment, which could have a positive impact on communities, particularly across Midlothian and the Borders?

I thank my colleague Jackson Carlaw for bringing this debate to Parliament and for his moving personal recollection.

I remember well the bombing, and recall the sight of Norman Tebbit, grey with dust, being carried out on a stretcher. It is an image that those of us who were around at the time cannot erase. It symbolised the horror of that day.

I had, and have, little regard for Margaret Thatcher as a political leader. Her bombastic approach to politics at a domestic and international level was confrontational by choice and often destructive, but I was horrified by the bomb attack that was directed at her, which killed others and injured many.

Like Jackson Carlaw, I will put that time into context. I recall when the troubles resurfaced in Northern Ireland as I had just married and moved to Galloway. It was 1969. I recall when the British troops went into Northern Ireland. At first, they were offered cups of tea, but that soon turned to resentment from half of the Belfast population. Even then, I wondered how the troops would leave and when. Moving in was the easy part; not having an exit strategy is a continuing error of successive UK Governments. I recall farming families relocating to Galloway from the Irish border to remove themselves from the firing line, saddened that neighbour could no longer trust neighbour. Catholics and Protestants who had lived side by side were now taking sides.

The decades came and went. We received Ulster Television at the time. Almost every night, there were announcements of incendiary devices, often on the Armagh Road. I was perhaps more aware of the realities of the divisions in Northern Ireland than people in other parts of the UK. In March 1979, Airey Neave, the then shadow Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, was assassinated by the Irish National Liberation Army in a car bomb attack in the Palace of Westminster car park. He was a friend and political mentor to Margaret Thatcher.

On 27 August 1979, less than four months after Margaret Thatcher became Prime Minister, Lord Mountbatten was killed by a bomb on his fishing boat off the coast of Mullaghmore, County Sligo, in the Irish Republic. The Provisional Irish Republican Army—the IRA—had planted the device. On the same day, the IRA also killed 18 British soldiers near Warrenpoint with two bombs, which was the highest loss of life suffered in a single incident by the British Army during the troubles. Northern Ireland was a war zone. Extremism thrived.

In March 1981, Bobby Sands, an IRA member, who was imprisoned at Maze prison in Northern Ireland, went on a hunger strike for the return of special category status to prisoners, which would have given those prisoners the status of political prisoners rather than criminals. That included their not having to wear a prison uniform and being able to freely associate with other prisoners. While on hunger strike, Bobby Sands stood in the Fermanagh and South Tyrone by-election and won. At that time, Margaret Thatcher said:

“There can be no question of political status for someone who is serving a sentence for crime. Crime is crime is crime: it is not political, it is crime, and there can be no question of granting political status.”

Ten men died of starvation before the strike came to an end. Sands was the first to die, which he did on 5 May 1981, after 66 days of starvation. His death led to rioting in Republican areas of Northern Ireland.

I refer to those events not to make value judgments but to place the attempted assassination of Margaret Thatcher and her Cabinet in the context of that dreadful time. That said, there were wrongs and cruelties on all sides and an abject failure of politics, which, as ever, even today in Israel, Gaza and Lebanon, mean death and injury, with ordinary people caught in the middle.

In the end, as in Ireland, after all the bloodshed, comes compromise and a political solution—in this instance, it was the Good Friday agreement. That is why, as politicians, while we deplore the use of the bullet rather than the ballot box, we must ensure that engagement with democracy does not falter through our actions or, perhaps even more crucially, our inaction.

That said, we must, without fear or favour, condemn violence whenever, but in today’s context, we must condemn that directed towards politicians, whether we agree with their views or not—indeed, more so if we disagree. If the assassination of Margaret Thatcher had succeeded, it would not, in my view, have resolved the troubles, but it would have succeeded in undermining our democracy.

As others have said, today, politicians here operate in a culture in which they are seen by some as fair game, even to the point of threats, violence and worse. The events of that early morning in Brighton remind us that democracy is vulnerable, fragile and has its dangers, but those are far outweighed by its freedoms, which we must all always protect.

I thank Jackson Carlaw for this debate and for reminding me of those difficult days and of how far Northern Ireland has come. If—it is an if—it is to be a united Ireland, it will be achieved through the ballot box, not by bomb or bullet.

I thank the minister for her comprehensive answer. According to the most recent census, in 2022, Midlothian’s population had increased by 16 per cent since 2011, which is five times higher than the Scottish average. That will be an underestimate of the current position, with more substantial housing developments being built month after month. Pressures on nurseries, schools and medical practices—let alone roads—can only get worse.

I hear what the minister has said and I ask her, in her representations with COSLA and so on, to suggest that Midlothian is a special case, given the population explosion in the area.

To ask the Scottish Government what assessment it has made of any impact on public services of an increased population in areas such as Midlothian. (S6O-03808)

What period is that for?

I just want to know because I felt that there was no context.

It is on the record, so, in fairness to you, because it is out there, I am giving you the chance to answer. I am sure that the convener will be happy to forward the information to you.

That would be useful.

I am just seeking clarity. Our briefing says:

“Data published by Salmon Scotland shows that Dunstaffnage recorded a mortality rate of 56.5%. In its report of the same story, Scottish Sea Farms told The Guardian that this high mortality was a result of a micro-jellyfish event and the mortality rate in the current production cycle was 3%.”

My question is quite simple. What was the production cycle when the mortality rate was at 56.5 per cent, and what is the production cycle now that it is at 3 per cent?

When you are given notice of a visit—I understand that you are given notice of most inspection visits—how much notice are you given?