It’s A Funny Old World
‘You dream of waltzing into a reunion and leaving everyone gobsmacked by your gorgeousness’
September, for me, means buying new stationery – not a full set with pencil case, compass and protractor, but certainly a gorgeous notebook to write ‘to do’ lists in, or some pencils with inspirational quotes on them. I can’t help myself. To me, September screams ‘new term’!
Maybe this is why, every five years or so, people start to moot the idea of a school reunion. It depends on my mood whether my response is a sense of bonhomie and kindly curiosity or a desire to run screaming for the hills.
I’ve stayed in touch with a number of old school friends and I have great affection for them – one is still a bestie. If others have fallen by the wayside, you might argue that we didn’t have enough in common to bond us in the first place, so why bother? However, I’m a writer, interested in people. I like to hear stories, and a room full of people desperate to dish up theirs is too much for me to resist.
The last reunion kicked off with a call for volunteers. To make it happen, we needed a Chair, a Treasurer, a Promoter and an Eventer.
Next, we had to commit to dates via a digital calendar. I’m intrinsically wary of anything I’m meant to ‘upload’ (although my husband points out I’m pretty good at internet shopping, so not quite the technophobe I pretend to be). Even so, I hankered after an old-fashioned invite, perhaps photocopied and pinned to a cork noticeboard.
I was curious to see who would turn up and why. It soon became apparent that ‘reunioners’ fall into two categories. Some attend because they’ve nothing better to do, while others have a score to settle. And that’s when it starts to get interesting…
It’s a fact that if you were an ugly duckling, you live for the moment you can show your mean ‘friends’ (who called you lardy/skinny/ ginge/speccy/spotty/worse) and the hot boy (who ignored you), just how swan-like you’ve turned out. You dream of waltzing into a reunion and leaving everyone gobsmacked by your gorgeousness.
Thing is, we were nearly all ugly ducklings. Most likely, all the women look better now than in their teens. Plus, it’s only a disappointment to discover that the boy whose name you wrote a million times on your exercise book is no longer athletic, cool or charismatic.
One of my friends was bullied at school for being too keen. He couldn’t wait to show he was now a CEO (beautiful wife, home, car). Look where his keenness took him! He was almost disappointed when people sagely commented, ‘I always knew you’d go far.’ Apparently, they had admired him back in the day, but it was uncool to say so!
The life lesson is, don’t go to a reunion if you want to score points or settle debts. However, if time has dulled the countless humiliations and mistakes, and you want to spend a happy evening reminiscing about the Morris-dancing art teacher, then you’ve truly grown up!
Adele Parks' new novel I Invited Her In is published 20 September (£7.99, HQ, HarperCollins).