“Mmm.”
The more we have thought about it, the more her firm and
insurance choice seem obvious, and it would be simple now for her to log on to
UCAS track, click a few buttons and move on.
It would take only seconds, but feels somehow momentous. To rush it would be as indecorous as gulping
down that first drink on your eighteenth birthday pub trip.
“I can’t do it tonight, Mum – I’m up at school giving a talk
on applying to university – it’s an evening for year elevens on the value of
higher education.”
Will she tell the prospective sixth-formers just how
difficult it is to make the final choice having visited so many welcoming campuses
and visualised oneself wandering the lanes of historic cities? It must be like standing at a crossroads
(possibly a multi-exit roundabout would be a more accurate analogy, but let’s
not quibble) and seeing different “you”s walking away into different futures.
“The time has come, Carenza, to place a metaphorical traffic
cone in some of your exits, er, options.”
“What on earth are you wittering on about, Mum? I’m back off up to school now. I’ll see about UCAS Track at the weekend.”
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