THE dreaded day arrived and, as I sat in the waiting room of the test centre, my hands were sweating and I felt sick with fear.

All the confidence I had gained through my lessons vanished and I started weighing up whether or not I would pass based on superstition.

I avoided walking under a ladder on my way to meet Colin, and he told me he had found bird poo on the windscreen that morning (which he insisted is good luck). But then as we were having a look under the bonnet for a last run through of the “show me, tell me” questions, a black cat appeared, running back and forth and rubbing itself against my legs - I swear it was taunting me.

Somehow my paralysing fear didn’t get the better of me during my test and I didn’t make any glaring errors. The manoeuvre the examiner asked me to do was a turn in the road, which I find the easiest of the manoeuvres, no ambulances or pedestrians with a death wish crossed my path and I didn’t have to tackle the dreaded Ashley Road junction.

Yet still when we got back to the test centre, I wasn’t sure. I was convinced I’d seen him making lots of markings out of the corner of my eye and refused to hope I had passed until the words came out of his mouth… and then they did.

The sun burst through the clouds and choirs of angels sang hallelujah as my wonderful examiner (who I decided was my favourite person in the whole wide world) told me the fantastic news that not only had I passed, but I only had two minor faults. I was giddy with excitement and pride and could not wipe the massive grin off my face, only just managing to resist the urge to hug him.

I would like to say a huge thank you to Colin for putting up with me and generally for just getting me through it.

Now, I just have to persuade him to brave a motorway with me for the Passplus.

I am now officially allowed on the roads unsupervised - as soon as I save up enough to buy a car, that is - so look out Salisbury, here I come!

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