Read Online From The Moment I Saw Him .... by Catherine MacDonald - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Catherine MacDonald
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official University functions, and
consists of black skirt and tights, white blouse with black bow, and the
university black gown - short for commoners, such as myself, long for the
brainy scholars of each college.
Some look severe, others are smiling,
there is a complete mixture of long hair, short hair, miniskirts and
spectacles, grins and grimaces. At one end, on the right, is a girl with a
head of pale curls and a haughty expression.
This is me in the freshers photograph at
St Hugh’s, taken just after we have been formally admitted to the University.
Welcome to my new life.
My parents had driven me down the week before, the
car loaded with all my belongings, and it had been a thrill to settle in to the
small room at the end of an echoing corridor, and feel that this was my domain.
It was basic - bed, desk, wardrobe, a chair or two.
Washing and kitchen facilities were shared at the end of the corridor. But it
promised independence, and a new start. I couldn’t wait.
The first few days were hectic, as the freshers
started to make friends, and we met up with the other girls who were studying
the same subject.
There were twelve of us reading English, two of whom
were scholars, having done particularly well at their entrance examination. I
was a commoner, but was happy about this, as I thought the short black gown I
had was much more becoming than the long, flapping robe the scholars wore. We
were supposed to wear our gowns to lectures and tutorials, and Oxford in the
daytime was buzzing with students, begowned and on bicycles, although after a
while, the novelty of wearing them diminished, and we tended to leave them
behind.
I had never harboured fantasies about going to
boarding school, indeed, would have been rather frightened at leaving the safe
berth of home. However, I realised that I was going to love communal living
with this select crowd of well-educated young women.
It was fun to line up in a noisy crowd as we waited
outside the dining hall for meals. The food was institutional, but sustaining,
and we ate at long tables together, a pleasant babble of chatter enlivening the
proceedings.
It was challenging to be given our timetables and
first tutorials, and discover what was expected of us in this academic world.
Above all, it was good to make new friends.
I had passed a somewhat solitary summer vacation,
particularly after the rift with Nick, which had confined me to home territory
for weeks. Now I was surrounded by girls of the same age and broadly similar
background, and immediately found myself being drawn to two or three in
particular.
Emily had the room across the corridor from mine.
She was a physicist from the north of England, and I was disarmed by her blunt
sense of humour and down to earth outlook on life. You felt she was a person
you could depend on, and who would always tell you the truth. Her long,
straight auburn hair was unmistakable in the crowd.
Joanna, dark and slender, was also reading English.
She had been educated at a top girls’ boarding school, and it was obvious from
the remarks she let drop that her family was very well to do, but she was not
in the least uppity, as my mother would say, and was the greatest fun.
We quickly became good mates. Night times often
found us curled up in someone’s room in our dressing gowns, gossiping and
giggling over cocoa, and recounting the events of the day. I found it all very
invigorating.
I had not told anyone about my painful experience
with Nick - I wasn’t ready to. That was a dark secret I kept close to my
heart. But I liked sharing the hopes and dreams of my fellow students.
Joanna had a boyfriend already. I was pleased to find
that he wasn’t at Balliol, Nick’s college, but was a fresher at Christ Church,
a historic college in beautiful gardens by the river Thames.
“William says there are lots of super boys there. You
two can expect a load of party invitations,” she
consists of black skirt and tights, white blouse with black bow, and the
university black gown - short for commoners, such as myself, long for the
brainy scholars of each college.
Some look severe, others are smiling,
there is a complete mixture of long hair, short hair, miniskirts and
spectacles, grins and grimaces. At one end, on the right, is a girl with a
head of pale curls and a haughty expression.
This is me in the freshers photograph at
St Hugh’s, taken just after we have been formally admitted to the University.
Welcome to my new life.
My parents had driven me down the week before, the
car loaded with all my belongings, and it had been a thrill to settle in to the
small room at the end of an echoing corridor, and feel that this was my domain.
It was basic - bed, desk, wardrobe, a chair or two.
Washing and kitchen facilities were shared at the end of the corridor. But it
promised independence, and a new start. I couldn’t wait.
The first few days were hectic, as the freshers
started to make friends, and we met up with the other girls who were studying
the same subject.
There were twelve of us reading English, two of whom
were scholars, having done particularly well at their entrance examination. I
was a commoner, but was happy about this, as I thought the short black gown I
had was much more becoming than the long, flapping robe the scholars wore. We
were supposed to wear our gowns to lectures and tutorials, and Oxford in the
daytime was buzzing with students, begowned and on bicycles, although after a
while, the novelty of wearing them diminished, and we tended to leave them
behind.
I had never harboured fantasies about going to
boarding school, indeed, would have been rather frightened at leaving the safe
berth of home. However, I realised that I was going to love communal living
with this select crowd of well-educated young women.
It was fun to line up in a noisy crowd as we waited
outside the dining hall for meals. The food was institutional, but sustaining,
and we ate at long tables together, a pleasant babble of chatter enlivening the
proceedings.
It was challenging to be given our timetables and
first tutorials, and discover what was expected of us in this academic world.
Above all, it was good to make new friends.
I had passed a somewhat solitary summer vacation,
particularly after the rift with Nick, which had confined me to home territory
for weeks. Now I was surrounded by girls of the same age and broadly similar
background, and immediately found myself being drawn to two or three in
particular.
Emily had the room across the corridor from mine.
She was a physicist from the north of England, and I was disarmed by her blunt
sense of humour and down to earth outlook on life. You felt she was a person
you could depend on, and who would always tell you the truth. Her long,
straight auburn hair was unmistakable in the crowd.
Joanna, dark and slender, was also reading English.
She had been educated at a top girls’ boarding school, and it was obvious from
the remarks she let drop that her family was very well to do, but she was not
in the least uppity, as my mother would say, and was the greatest fun.
We quickly became good mates. Night times often
found us curled up in someone’s room in our dressing gowns, gossiping and
giggling over cocoa, and recounting the events of the day. I found it all very
invigorating.
I had not told anyone about my painful experience
with Nick - I wasn’t ready to. That was a dark secret I kept close to my
heart. But I liked sharing the hopes and dreams of my fellow students.
Joanna had a boyfriend already. I was pleased to find
that he wasn’t at Balliol, Nick’s college, but was a fresher at Christ Church,
a historic college in beautiful gardens by the river Thames.
“William says there are lots of super boys there. You
two can expect a load of party invitations,” she
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