Plain Speaking

My future son in law’s comment spurred me to change…

- Margaret Skipworth

I’ve been taking elocution lessons. Of course, they’re not called that any more. These days it’s called accent softening or accent modification.

Curtis, my voice coach, explained it to me at my taster session.

“The aim is to speak with a neutral accent so you’re not identified with any geographical region,” he said in a gorgeous, mellow drawl. “It’s all about speaking with confidence and learning how to become a good communicator.”

“Great,” I said. “That’s what I want.”

Changing my accent never entered my head until my daughter, Alex, asked me to give her away at her wedding. Her father left when she was a few months old so I’d brought her up on my own. After university she got a job as a computer scientist. She now lives more than 200 miles from me, so I don’t see her as often as I’d like. But we’re still close.

I was over the moon she’d asked me to give her away – until I met up with her and her fiancé, Sebastian, to discuss wedding arrangements.

We were enjoying a meal in a small Italian restaurant when Sebastian said,out of the blue, “No matter how many times we meet, Pam, I always find it hard to believe that you’re Alex’s mother. You’re so different.”

“In what way?” I asked. “We both have blonde-red hair and green eyes.”

“Not your looks. I mean the way you talk.” He threw Alex a glance that looked – I thought – a little patronising. “For one thing, Alex doesn’t have a working class accent.”

I almost choked on the piece of almond cheesecake I’d just forked into my mouth. Before I could think of a retort Alex quickly started talking about bridesmaid dresses.