“20 years on, when afar and asunder
Parted are those who are singing today,
When you look back, and forgetfully wonder
What you were like in your work and your play,
Then, it may be, there will often come o’er you,
Glimpses of notes like the catch of a song –
Visions of school days shall float them before you,
Echoes of dreamland shall bear them along”
It’s my twenty year reunion tomorrow.
It crept on me like a thief in the night.
I didn’t react well.
First of all I didn’t tell my husband until yesterday.
He didn’t take it very well, but has reacted exactly like I thought he would and is having a whale of a time teasing me.
From the reactions of my classmates on Facebook, I am not alone.
From a few tentative posts on what was happening, no-one jumped up to take responsibility of organising anything.
Where the hell is a head girl when you need one – in another country – that’s where.
Eventually out of sheer desperation one fabulous woman has arranged drinks tonight.
All I have to do is pitch.
I have nothing to wear.
I forgot to go on a crash diet.
I haven’t been to the gym in God knows how long.
After all, you don’t want to go to a reunion looking like what you are – a middle-aged mother of three fighting a losing battle against gravity.
I wonder if I can learn to be something interesting like an assassin in 24 hours?
So, I went shopping yesterday. I bought form shaping Spanx, hit the sales and am now the proud owner of an exquisite pair of blue shoes from San Marino.
I don’t have time for liposuction and a face lift.
The reunion is tomorrow.
I can’t get an appointment for professional tooth whitening and a Hollywood smile.
But, maybe I can wrangle a manicure from the lady down the hall…
So armed with nothing but a fountain pen, some gorgeous blue shoes, Spanx and some Dorothy Parkeresque acerbic wit I shall walk into the breach and hope for the best.