Exams make Nicola Harrison nervous... and she's not even the one who's taking it
Why are examination halls always the same? Long, echoing corridors, high ceilings, creaking doors.
It's eleven in the morning. My son should be at school, I should be at work. But instead we are both here, at the music examination centre, so that Michael can sit his Grade 3 violin exam.
As if on cue, Michael gulps and looks at me for reassurance. I try, but my friendly smile is as nervous as a rabbit's. He's worried about the exam and I'm worried about him being worried about the exam. My job is to offer encouragement, consolation and Fruit Gums...and maybe a little treat afterwards, down at our favourite cafe.
Shelley's head appears round the door, "Time to warm up, Michael."
The piano booms through the adjoining wall – a hollow, distorted sound – and then the violin joins it, more distorted still.
My stomach churns. OMIGOD, It didn't sound like that when he practised his violin at home this morning. It sounded great this morning – perfectly in tune. What happened to the intonation?
...Nerves, it's just nerves.
Footsteps in the corridor outside. It's the lady come to take Michael through the last set of doors, the final frontier, to sit his Grade 3 exam. This is the culmination, the end-point of nine months' hard practice...
"Good luck!" I squeak.
"Grumph!"
I remain in the waiting room like the well-behaved mother I am. I do not go down the corridor to the double doors and strain to hear him. Five minutes later it's all over and Michael's back in the room with a shining face and a wraparound smile. I feel the anxiety evaporating from my pores like the early morning mist.
"Hey Mum! If we're going to the cafe, can I have some marshmallows with my hot chocolate?
All through the exam I couldn't think of anything else."
