The Sunday Post (Inverness)

An Accomplish­ed Woman

- WORDS KEITH HAVERS

Just take it easy at first, Nancy. One step at a time. Nice and slow.” Colin’s advice sounded helpful, but in reality he wanted me to fail. They all did.

“When you get to the top just keep going. Don’t look down.”

I wasn’t supposed to have wandered this far from the house. If Mum knew I was playing on the demolition site with Colin and his gang she’d have walloped me hard.

“Watch out for that loose brick just above the door frame.”

Although almost the whole row of terraced houses on Brook Street had been razed, some of the front walls remained intact. It was possible to clamber up the pile of rubble at one end of the street then step up the rising slope of exposed brickwork. Once above the line of the second floor window-sills it was a more or less flat route to the Canal Road junction where the remaining bits of the wall sloped back down to street level.

“You’re doing great, Nancy. Use your arms to keep your balance.”

Because the structure was built with cavity walls, progress along the top section was not as precarious as it might have been. It would have been a straightfo­rward walk from one end to the other if it hadn’t been for the gap half way along. Every street had an alley at one point to give access to the back yards. Only a few feet; just enough to get a pram through. “don’t hesitate. Just focus on the other side and hop across.” Easier said than done, but I managed it. “Well done! Now just keep going. Don’t stop and don’t look down.”

I took a few more steps and paused. “What’s the matter, Nancy? You’ve done the hard part. It’s easy from now on.”

“She’s frozen!” one of Colin’s mates shouted. “she’s stuck.”

“One of us will have to go up and bring her down,” another said.

But I hadn’t frozen. I wasn’t in any difficulty at all. I was just savouring the moment. “are you OK, Nancy?”

“I’m fine, Colin. I’ll be down in a minute. ”why come up here just to go straight back down again? And why wouldn’t you want to look down and observe the world from a lofty height?

I tilted my head to see half a dozen faces staring back up at me. It made me feel dizzy for a second, but I didn’t panic. I let it pass and didn’t let the fear show on my face. “come on, Nancy! What are you waiting for?”

I ignored the jibes. they didn’t understand.to them, the boys, it was an act of bravado. tome it was an experience, and I wanted more of them.

Just like the broken brickwork forming stepping stones to the top, this activity was just another step in my journey through life. “i told you we shouldn’t have let a girl in the gang, Colin. She’s going to ruin everything.”

As if I cared. this was just a game to them.an initiation ceremony.

“OK, that’s enough, Nancy. If you don’t come down we’re going home.”

It was a warm evening. I could feel a gentle breeze scattering my hair and ruffling my skirt. I could see our house from where I stood.the rooftops of the houses further down the hill spread out like a dark blanket before me. “what are you looking at, Nancy?” I could tell which one was ours. One of the chimney pots on top of the stack was crooked and our TV aerial was bent. Dad was to blame for both bits of damage when he’d insisted on fixing the antenna himself instead of letting the rental company sort it out.

“It’ll be dark soon. your mum will come looking for you when she finds out you’re not in the street.”

Mum would be settling down in front of the box right now. Since that new serial began last year she would claim the best armchair from 7.30pm every Monday and Wednesday while Dad went down to the pub.

I had Coronation Street to thank for my extended freedom. Mum, together with most of the adult population of the nation, would be glued to their sets for half an hour, leaving the kids to entertain themselves.

“I’m coming down now.”

I let Colin think that he had persuaded me down. Boys seemed to like it when they thought they were in control.

I learned a lot that night, about myself and about other people. It was crucial not to show any weakness to those who wanted to see you fail. It was also important not to be seen as a threat to people further up the hierarchy.

“You did OK, Nancy. you’re in the gang.” What that meant was that I could tag along with Colin and his pals when they went off exploring the demolition sites, or when they wandered down to the canal to see what they could dredge up.

I couldn’t see what was so fascinatin­g about dropping a hook and line into a filthy waterway, or pulling up a bent bicycle wheel or an old pushchair.

Still, they seemed to get excited about it. It was like a treasure hunt to them, I suppose.

“I’d better get back. Mum will be scouring the street as soon as her programme has finished.”

“See you at school tomorrow?” “Yeah.”

As it turned out, I spent more time with the gang that summer than I thought I would.

The girls round our way were OK, but a bit boring. they liked reading the “Bunty”, listening to Cliff Richard and playing silly games.

At least the boys got out and about, wandered further afield, and weren’t afraid to get into a bit of mischief, even if their own games seemed just as daft.

Then I had some news that had a huge impact on the rest of my life.

“I don’t believe it! Our Nancy going to grammar school?”

I was just as surprised as Mum. I wasn’t stupid, but I wasn’t exactly Brain of britain, either.

Somehow I had managed to solve the

intelligen­ce tests on the exam paper and pass my 11-plus. what was even more surprising was that Colin had passed, too. “Hey, Nancy! I hear we’re still going to be classmates.”

Lucky me, I thought. Colin’s assumption wasn’t quite accurate.we may have been in the same year but, as there were three academic streams, we ended up in different classes.the only times our paths crossed were in assembly, at break time, or in the corridor as we changed lessons. In any case, we’d grown out of just hanging around together and being in a gang. He’d play football at lunch break and I was now drawn into girl talk behind the bike sheds.

“I want to have my hair done like Natalie Wood in West Side Story.” That was the level of conversati­on we used to get. These girls thought they were rebelling, but they’d still end up like their mothers. Married with kids and a council house. “i wish we didn’t get so much homework,” one girl was often complainin­g. Personally, I didn’t mind the homework. I found most of the subjects interestin­g and stimulatin­g. what annoyed me was having to lug all those books home every afternoon in my satchel.

If we had history, with those great thick tomes to carry around, or if I had my PE kit with me as well, I would end up with a sore shoulder and an aching back. “You wouldn’t help me, would you, Colin?” If my new girl friends had taught me anything it was how to get a boy to do what you want. Look helpless, flutter your eyelashes and be grateful.

I don’t think Colin was fooled by my helpless damsel act, but he went along with it. there was a bit more to it than that as I worked my way through school, university and then work, but I developed into a good communicat­or and eventually left to start my own printing business.

“I’m proud of you, lass,” Dad said. That meant a lot to me, as I know he couldn’t understand why I’d studied economics at university instead of a “proper” subject. I think he wanted me to be a doctor or a teacher.

“Thanks, Dad. I couldn’t have done it without you and Mum supporting me.”

I managed to fit a happy marriage and two wonderful kids into my schedule.

The business grew and eventually I could leave the day-to-day running with one of my managers to give me more time with my family.

Now I find myself at my old school giving a morale-boosting lecture on how to build a profitable business.

I’ve never had to address a proper audience from a stage before so I’m a little apprehensi­ve. I’m more used to talking to smaller groups on the shop floor or in the meeting room.

Strictly speaking it’s not actually my old school. they knocked the old building down a few years ago and replaced it with this shiny new college.

My thoughts go back to the night on the demolition site, and it occurs to me that health and safety rules would ensure that the local kids wouldn’t be allowed to scramble over the rubble these days. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“Welcome to Queen Elizabeth College.” The principal greets me with a firm handshake. She tells me how much she admires women like me who are successful, despite this still being a maledomina­ted world. She seems to regard me as some sort of spokespers­on for feminism. In fact, I never saw myself as a member of the sisterhood. what I’ve done, I’ve done for myself and my family.

I don’t correct her. “i’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time. It will be such a thrill for the students to hear a local success story.”

I hope she isn’t expecting me to reveal some mystic map to guide them to the pinnacle of the business tree. I’ve worked hard and persevered through all the problems that life has thrown at me. You can’t teach that.

“I hope I don’t disappoint them.”

My talk has been well prepared and rehearsed. I place my prompt cards on the lectern and begin.

Once I get into my stride, the words flow easily and, before I know it, I’m into my concluding remarks.

“Remember to take time out in your life to pause and savour the moment. when you get to the top, don’t forget to look down. there will be those who expect you to fall flat on your face, but the important people will be rooting for you.”

There is a round of applause as I leave the stage. My talk seems to have gone down well, but I’m relieved it’s all over.

The principal engages me for a few minutes but I manage to politely end the conversati­on and join my husband who is waiting at the end of the hall.

“You did well,” he says. “were you nervous?”

“A bit. But I just focused on you sitting at the back.”

“Nice to know I’ve been useful.” “I actually took your advice for once.” “Oh?”

“I avoided eye contact with the students. I didn’t look down.”

“You never let me forget that, do you?” He laughs. “ready to go?”

“Yes, please, Colin. take me home.”

For more short stories, don’t miss the latest edition of The People’s Friend

 ??  ??
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom