Are you alright, Bunty?

Bunty looks up at you with eyes blurred by tears. She recognises you and smiles.
"Oh Detective. To think this would ha' happened in my ain wee shop." She looks up at you, then past you, to the gaping hole in the ceiling.
"Ochone, ochone", you barely murmur, your lips almost moving, as you see her fear and distress build up again in those eyes that, 30 years ago now it must be, looked with you at the Ness and the gaslight dancing on the rippling water. Maclennan she was then. A world ago.
Ask her What happened here?