The Start of a Long Journey

Nancy Fraser

It was a late autumn afternoon - not one of those bright, colourful days but dark and dismal - and according to the weather forecast, prelude to a very stormy night. I had spent the morning answering the telephone to friends ringing to wish me 'Good Luck'; however, it was now time to go. As I set off in my battered old Mini for an interview, the result of which could introduce me to a whole new way of life, I felt more than a little nervous. My sense of direction is not too good and I am regarded as a fair-weather driver. However, my husband had accompanied me on a trial run the previous evening so I now felt reasonably confident that I would at least reach my desired destination.

The initial journey was fairly uneventful but as I drove up the impressive driveway any feelings of optimism I may have clung to were soon eclipsed by those of awe and apprehension. Nervously, I pushed open the heavy door into the hall of Newbattle Abbey College and was immediately confronted by an impressive oak staircase, on either side of which were a few stairs leading down to the crypt. Then I passed an incredibly beautiful, centuries-old chapel. The interview room was close to the chapel, and had originally been an armoury. The walls and arched ceiling were built entirely of stone but the bright lamps and glowing fire transformed what might have been an austere and forbidding room into one with a warm and inviting aura.

I was immediately put at my ease by the College Principal and two of the lecturers, however, when the surprisingly lengthy interview was over and I rose to say goodbye, I found that my legs had turned to jelly. I could only hope that this was not too obvious. I had no idea whether I would be given a place at the college (mine was a late application: the course had already started). The one thing I was sure of was that I wanted more than ever to become a student at Newbattle Abbey College.

On leaving the Abbey, I found, to my dismay, that the weather forecast had been alarmingly accurate and I was confronted by torrential rain and gale-force winds. It was certainly the worst weather I had ever driven in and, to make matters worse, it was now pitch black. Part of my journey was cross-country, with no lighting whatsoever, and, at that time, no other driver on the road. At one stage, I pulled over onto the grass verge, waiting for - I don't know what... After what seemed like an eternity, and with the rain still streaming down the windscreen, I set off again, more or less driving blind until I eventually came to the main road.

On arriving home I found that it was some time before I could step out of my 'magnificent wee Mini'. I simply sat there, with the tears streaming down my face, quite unable to move. When I did leave the car and climb the stairs to our flat, I found my husband anxiously waiting. He immediately poured us both a large brandy then sat listening with intense interest to all that I had to tell. Bill had recently, quite unexpectedly, been made redundant and seemed to have lost all confidence in himself. In a strange way, 'my interview' seemed to be even more important to him than it was to me.

I did not have long to wait to learn the outcome and, to my genuine surprise, I was offered a place at Newbattle Abbey. My time there was two of the happiest and most rewarding years of my life. I was then offered a place at Edinburgh University from where I graduated B.Sc. (Soc Sc). This was followed by ten years working for the Social Work Department in one Edinburgh's most deprived areas, which I found to be another most enlightening and rewarding experience.

As the eldest and only daughter of a (financially) poor family, all of this was one journey I never even dreamed possible. Indeed, it would not have been possible, had I not found the courage to face that unforgettable day in October, 1980.

I am now seventy-five years of age: a widow with one daughter, two sons and four grandchildren. Since that day, I have had to face quite a few challenges but still have one ambition to fulfil: to become a published writer.