Dinner

was lovely. Loads of hooting laughter, names not heard for decades bandied left and right, as though we were still there in 1974. Of course then, I was 10 and he was 20 something. He was my teacher.

Everyone has one of those teachers, those special ones that somehow get to you and make you shine. The ones that you recall all of your life, the ones who made you want to go to school, those shiny apple teachers. This one is my old friend now. I can call him that - we've stayed in touch over the 32 years that have passed since he taught me. I remember him bribing me with Tin Tin books to learn my times tables. He used to send the mothers atwitter, standing at the school gates, in american tan tights, (the mothers, not him) a veritable fan club.
He used to sit on his desk with his legs crossed - the other teachers frowned at him I know. We loved him. Tonight was the first time we've seen each other to talk properly, face to face, for 21 years. I can scarcely believe it. Older now, bald, but still twinkling, and instead of leaping on and off his desk, he bounds around pouring wine and yelling VENN DIAGRAMS! What the HELL was that about? Will you ever FORGIVE me?

Absolutely.