Reconciliation will be vital in the days after the vote

Such has been the intensity of the past few days in the referendum campaign, I'm beginning to think something similar should follow every read of a newspaper and viewing of a political broadcast or news programme. Getting a touch hot out there in Scotland's kitchen, is it not?

Over in saucepan number one, the man from John Lewis says prices could be higher in Scotland if there is a Yes vote. If that does not set off the collective smoke alarm of the middle classes, nothing will. In pan number two, the normally straight-down-the-middle Mark Carney, governor of the Bank of England, states that a currency union is incompatible with sovereignty. Pans number three, four and five contain various simmering threats of business flight, currency upheaval and international disarray. Get the fire extinguisher ready, and prepare to wield the damp dish towels …

Not everyone is enjoying the heat. This became plain to me during a conversation with a voter who said she was feeling increasingly anxious as each day passed. At first I thought she was kidding, but the face and the body language said not. This voter was not only agonising over Yes or No; she was equally troubled about what would happen once the vote was over. Subsequent conversations with other voters, male and female, showed this was not an isolated view. Bizarre, you might think, given that the referendum campaign has been a peaceful process up till now. Kumbaya ya bass, and all that (sorry about the language, folks; a certain Eton-educated prime minister has rather lowered the tone of late). Certainly, there has been the odd disquieting moment, but by and large the collective heid has been kept. What is there to worry about?

By this time next week, it will be all over bar the shouting. What is concerning some voters is the possibility that the shouting could go on beyond September 18, and that Scotland will be a more troubled place for it. It is not a fashionable opinion. According to most of the commentariat, it has been positively life-enhancing to see a thousand democratic flowers bloom in village hall meetings, online forums and assorted other get-togethers. By and large it has. The quality of the debate across the country has been consistently high. Voters are engaged, they are informed, they are ready to have their say. It would fair bring a tear to a cynical eye.

Here comes the but, and it is considerable one. It was a given that feelings would intensify as the vote approached. This is a big deal, the biggest of our lifetimes. But it has been difficult not to be concerned at the slight shift in mood these past few days. Feelings have been running high not just during the visits of the three Westminster party leaders, but at events attended by the First Minister, Alex Salmond, as well. The shouting of supporters from both sides has grown louder, placards are being brandished rather than waved, tempers are starting to fray. Look at the rough and tumble around John Prescott. Hearing him being called everything from "traitor" to "the Duke of Cumberland", one almost felt sorry for the old bruiser. Almost. And all of this before Nigel Farage arrives.

Now this might be dismissed as the actions of a tiny minority, the kind of hurly burly that happens during campaigns. We have seen worse. John "Slugger" Prescott certainly has. For most Scots, the debate has taken place among friends, family, neighbours, colleagues, in supermarket queues, on train platforms, round the kitchen table. It has been conducted in a generally good-hearted manner, but who among us can honestly say they have not felt their hackles rise, be it ever so gently, during some of these discussions?

How many No supporters have had to grin and bear apparently jokey references to cowardice? How many Yes supporters have smiled patiently at the umpteenth mention of Braveheart? Barbs come from both sides, and however much we congratulate ourselves on being able to take it, the words are sticks and stones nevertheless. When it comes to independence, the political has proven to be deeply personal, with every Yes or No decision revealing more about ourselves than many people are comfortable sharing. Do we really believe that all those undecideds out there have not made their minds up yet, or is it the case that they are uncomfortable about declaring one way or another? Who can blame them?

Whatever the outcome of the vote, change is gonna come post September 18, be it independence, quasi devo-max, or the Westminster parties reneging on their promises of more powers. The only certainty is that further uncertainty awaits, and we will be ill-equipped to deal with whatever is coming our way if we continue scrapping among ourselves after the result has been declared. As Lincoln said when speaking about another union, a house divided against itself cannot stand. Scotland cannot stand for a situation in which one half of the country believes the other half has let it down. We are better than that. We will have to be.

Back in May, some eyebrows shot heavenwards when the Church of Scotland announced that a service of reconciliation was to be held at St Giles' Cathedral on September 21. How very woolly and liberal, said the naysayers. How very un-Scottish. But given the increasing tension surrounding the vote, it now seems as though the Church had its digit on the pulse more firmly than the politicians.

The Cathedral only has a certain capacity, though, and no service, however welcoming, can soothe every part of Scotland. (By the by, you can bet St Francis of Assisi will not be quoted when it comes to the need to bring harmony where there is discord, and so on. Mrs T has forever put the kibosh on that.) Only individuals can do this, and it will not happen overnight. Be they engaged in a celebration or deep in a period of mourning, there is a doozy of a hangover lying in wait for both sides. A country cannot go through the kind of upheaval Scotland has these past two years without there being after-effects.

For now, it will be enough to get through this final week in a way that does credit to Scotland. It is not just the eyes of England, Wales and Northern Ireland that are upon us, but those of the world. We could do worse than adopt the tactics of the Tartan Army, who did so much to turn around the image of Scottish football supporters by zealously (and yes, sometimes toe-curlingly) turning assumptions on their heads. It is not enough to have staged one of the most successful democratic battles in living memory. For all our sakes we need to win the peace too.