Last Christmas I bought my mother a book.
So what, I hear you say.
Well, she is practically blind and cannot now read.
‘I shall read it to you,’ I promised.
The book is ‘The Boy from Nowhere’; the story of one of Scotland’s best loved comedy actors: Gregor Fisher of Rab C Nesbit fame.
Gregor, along with Telegraph columnist Melanie Reid, researched his past, sifting through the layers of lies and deceit surrounding his life and the reason why he came to live in the village of Neilston, with his aunt Cis, at the age of three.
I chose this book because we live in Neilston and remember Gregor growing up in the village; a likeable boy who always had a story to tell; we would sit on the roundabout in the swing park listening to his soft voice and laughing at his jokes
The book is riveting from the start, with an honesty which is both disturbing and refreshing.
The descriptions of his life back in the 50s and 60s have stirred memories of my own childhood in the village reminding me of how difficult life was back then.
A picture is painted of a very happy childhood – happy, that is, till he finds out that Cis, the woman he calls mum, isn’t his mother at all – But, in true west of Scotland style, he quickly gets over it and doesn’t let it spoil his happiness for long.
Although the family were close and the atmosphere was loving, the people he called mum and dad were, like most inhabitants of the west of Scotland at that time, undemonstrative. This lack of physical contact caused Gregor a few problems when he finally arrived into the touchy feely world of show business. But, like a true Scot, once again he got over it.
He was accepted into the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama and, after a laugh-out-loud moment when he has to wear tights and a leotard, he settles in but his lack of confidence meant that he never felt that he belonged.
His career really took off when he was offered an acting job and an equity card. This opened up all kinds of possibilities for him. He was off on his journey as an actor, forging lifetime friendships along the way.
I am well into the story now, reading one or two chapters per day, only stopping when my voice becomes hoarse; reading aloud takes a bit more effort than reading to oneself.
I feel an excitement when I reach for the book, The Boy from Nowhere has awakened memories and feelings within me which I haven’t touched on for some time but, each evening, I look forward to switching off the TV and with the face of a young Gregor smiling out at me, I wait till my mother settles back into her chair in anticipation then open at the page we finished on the night before and begin.
