Given that I was brought up in Linlithgow and attended Preston Road Primary there for five years, my parents’ decision that I should attend DSMC from Primary 6 onwards had a couple of major repercussions. Firstly, it meant I would be getting the train to school from now on and, secondly, all of my Linlithgow primary school friends immediately told me where to stick the silver spoon that I had recently acquired.
In contrast to the slick travel arrangements that SMC pupils in outlying areas enjoy today, the British Rail trains of the ’70s were pretty basic – cold, rickety and unreliable. Haymarket station was still essentially a Victorian edifice and, once you’d got there, there was still the hike to the school past St Mary’s Cathedral, down Belford Hill and past the Dragonara Hotel. I once saw Boy George through the window of the hotel and got hit by a push bike crossing the road there (the two events were unconnected).
Things became even more complicated when my dad died in 1981 as my mum had given up her teaching career to become a full time housewife so had no way of funding my school fees. It looked for a while that I would have to resume my education in Linlithgow with my tail between my legs and my torso in a stab vest, but I was then lucky enough to be awarded a full Assisted Place at DSMC so could continue my studies there.
I think I must have absorbed my mum’s gratitude and relief at this turn of events and I subconsciously decided to focus on my studies to thank the school for the Assisted Place. Long story short, I got an A in every exam I sat at DSMC and ended up becoming Arts Dux in Sixth Year – you can still see my name on a board on the wall of the Tom Fleming Centre, alongside that of my good friend and fellow Solwayite, the late Willie, who became Science Dux.
My sporting career at school was unremarkable, due to the fact that I was very short sighted - no contact lenses in those days -and also pretty terrible at sport. Phil still likes to remind me of the report I submitted for the ‘Collegian’ about the ‘glorious’ season that Oram’s B4 XV had just enjoyed. I still remember the day I was due to get a 41 bus from the West End to play a game against Royal High at Barnton; being a shy country bumpkin, I got on the 41 going the wrong way and ended up at the King’s Buildings terminus on the south side. Mr Oram wasn’t best pleased when I finally made it to Barnton at half time.
Having had very little to do with the fairer sex at school, bar a crash course in O Level French at MES in Sixth Year, I headed to St Andrews University in 1985 with a bulging bag of wild oats to sow. I met my now wife in a matriculation queue on the third day of Freshers’ Week – the unopened bag of wild oats is still hidden in a cupboard somewhere, I think.
I elected to study English Language & Literature at Uni, having a vague inclination to become a journalist. I did some work on my ‘portfolio’ with that in mind, reviewing concerts for the local paper in Linlithgow and films for the student rag in St Andrews, but it was all a bit half hearted and I ended up applying for ‘proper’ graduate jobs as my time in St Andrews came to an end. I had no luck until girlfriend announced she was applying for the Bank Of Scotland graduate scheme; intrigued, I copied her application form, changing the relevant details, and submitted it. I ended up being accepted and she didn’t – yes, awkward!
I elected to start my BOS career in one of their Stirling branches, having a soft spot for the town as my dad was from near there. I spent two very happy years at 54 King Street, having a go at all of the various jobs that went on in a large branch in the early ’90s. I wasn’t much good at any of those jobs but my colleagues were very tolerant of me handing Eurocheques to the wrong customers and keying the wrong currency code into the foreign till. I then moved on to 64 George Street in Edinburgh for a year, gaining experience of corporate and LIBOR lending.
Both of the branches I worked in later became pubs – there should really be a blue plaque in the ladies’ toilet of the Standing Order as that was my office.
In 1992 I joined the Bank’s Management Services (IT) Division, located in a plane-proof bunker out in Sighthill. Banking technology was still pretty primitive back then – mainframes rather than apps – so my focus was more on business analysis and process improvement. My team also ran the Staff Suggestion Scheme, reviewing ideas submitted by branch staff to see if they were worth pursuing. I went on to spend another 24 mostly happy years working for the Bank, based in the bunker apart from 6 years in a now demolished office block on Robertson Avenue. I enjoyed working on the various IT projects that we undertook but, to be honest, was never very technical – my skill was acting as the ‘translator’ between business users and ‘techies’ I was also pretty good at producing documentation and written communications so I guess I was finally able to scratch that journalism itch, after all.
BOS became HBOS and HBOS became Lloyds Banking Group until, in 2016, I finally tired of the endless round of job cuts and took a package to leave the Bank. I emerged from the bunker, blinking in the sunlight, and took 6 months off to decide what I was going to do next. Contracting was the obvious way to go so that’s what I did, eventually securing a 6 month gig as an in IT working in the Estates sector. This proved to be great fun as everyone just mucked in and no one was particularly hung up on the red tape that had become increasingly prevalent in Lloyds. That initial 6 month contract was repeatedly extended, with occasional break periods, until 2023, when it was finally decided that I had to move on to pastures new.
A couple of other things happened in 2023 – I took ill and we became grandparents. My wife was also keen on early retirement so, rather than seek (gasp) a second contract, I decided to join her and hung my ID badge lanyard up for good.
My time is now split between babysitting our granddaughter every Wednesday, playing 5 a side football (badly) twice a week and watching the SM 1^st^ XV home and away throughout the season. I’ve been a member of the rugby club twice now, despite my less than stellar playing career, and am proud to call myself a SM Ultra, sampling half time pies and cooking lager in clubhouses from Orkney to Berwick Upon Tweed. I also find time to watch a fa lot of live music – 78 gigs in 2024, for example, all across Europe. It’s good to be busy!
My wife and I have now lived in Davidson’s Mains for nearly 30 years. If I need to get to the Royal High ground, I can walk there in 20 minutes – Mr Oram would approve.
© 2026 Bill McNie