BECKY SHEAVES

I am, of course, nothing to be scared of. But some of the handshakes were a little sweaty

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As a youngster, I had big plans for going on to either Oxford or Cambridge to study. At my Cornish comprehensive school, this ambition set me apart from almost all my contemporaries.

Now, back then, the large public schools of the day each had a classful or more of sixth formers every year all taking the Oxbridge entrance exams, staffed by teachers who knew exactly how best to prepare.

Meanwhile, in West Cornwall, my teachers tried their best to encourage me, often without very much idea of what on earth to do. To this end, it was arranged one day for me to meet up with a recent Oxbridge graduate from Truro, to get her advice on my application.

Looking back, I can see now that this young lady was - for whatever reason - exhausted, miserable and even depressed. Boyfriend trouble, maybe? She had just graduated but didn’t have a job lined up and was back home with her mum and dad for the summer. Meanwhile, I was 16 and - I am sure - extremely irritating in my naïve enthusiasm. In our meeting, she sighed often and droned miserably on about how very un-fun her three years at college had been. Her last words as I went on my way were so memorable that I can still hear them today, all these years later: "Don’t set your heart on it," she advised.