I once went to see the remake of St Trinians with two girlfriends, one American and one English. The American was aghast at the unimaginable horror of it all. We Brits were crying with laughter at the happy memories it brought back of dangling smaller pupils out of dorm windows whilst the worse for home brewed hooch.
The original was WITHOUT DOUBT based on my alma mater, which is easily illustrated by telling you that one famous old girl is Jo Brand, probably a danglee in my day. I rest my case.
On Monday I met up with two old classmates, June and Clare, neither of whom I had seen for many years, for a respectable ladies lunch. This would have been somewhat in contrast to the last time I saw June when we were driving around Hawaii drinking Mai Tais out of pint glasses. I can’t imagine why I thought any of us would have mellowed with age.
I asked Clare if she still played the violin for my clearest recollection is that she was rarely without her violin case, like a Mafia hit man in a gym slip. It turns out she never even had an instrument – I expect we threw that out of the window as well – and the case was merely a cover story to get out of the school,in theory to attend a music lesson, but in fact to load it up with fags and chocolate from the nearest newsagent. She also remembered being locked in the history cupboard repeatedly but we clearly must have let her eventually. How people bear grudges!
Lunch started to go downhill after the second bottle and the restaurant eventually started plying us with liqueurs, probably in the hopelessly optimistic expectation that we would pass out and be quiet.
Instead we retired to the wonderful Bar Italia for espressos and brandies. And fags. It wouldn’t have been a reunion without them. Such a shames you can’t get 5 packs of Players No 6’s anymore.
At some point during the evening a man at the next table presented me with a beribboned box from a ludicrously expensive Japanese patisserie. God knows why.
On the way home I gave it to the nice young lady at my local corner shop – apparently. Next day I was very surprised to hear about it. It turns out that although the cake was almost as battered as I was she ate it and discovered it contained fish. What is WRONG with the Japanese? Does anyone, anywhere want Squid flavoured doughnuts? However, given the obvious expense she thought I had gone to, she felt obliged to finish it although she is, it turns out, a vegetarian.
Ungrateful girl should consider herself lucky I didn’t lock her in the freezer cabinet. Perhaps I am mellowing after all.