Met George Watson walking to school. Knew it was going to be a bad day when I thought he was Bill Forster who is at least three feet taller.
Arrived at BGS, immediately accosted by Organiser's wife demanding money.
    Met the Organiser and The Unrecognisable One: thanked them for all the effort they had put in over the last months. Entered hall, thought I was in the wrong place, everyone older than me. Saw photographs and memorabilia, realised just how much work must have been involved. Twinge of guilt, soon passed. No eye contact, everyone looking at name badges first. Fleeting panic attack, couldn't remember most of them. Met a Nice Person pretending to be Ken Davey, the scourge of anyone smaller than himself (most of the school). Not a very good impersonation, didn't look like him and able to string more than three words together. Thanked the Mad Professor and the Go-Kart Kid for their contribution. Found old (very old) mates Ned Wake, Brian Davison, John Chilton and Alan Smith, pretended I remembered several others.

     School dinner, no semolina but lots of wine. Relapsed into childhood sitting in sunshine, drinking and reminiscing. John Baugh blatantly denied getting Brian Davison and myself expelled on the last day of school. Must think we're fools. Jimmy Pearson did perfect imitation of George Watson as goalkeeper, kicking each goalpost before throwing his cap into the back of the net. Then he spoilt it all by boasting of 62 goals he scored that season. No mention of the clever passes from John Chilton and self or the fact that he missed twice as many as he'd scored. Tony Brown confessed he had missed an open goal in nil-nil draw. Not surprised. Organiser ordered us to congregate on the lawn for group photo. Grave doubts whether everyone in shot, supposed that we'd find out when the News Leader was published. Photocall for football team, could only find eight, coopted The Nice Person as centre half, made us all look much younger. Mad professor joined us at table, kept looking at sun so that his shadow told the correct time. Claimed my computers out of date. What did he know about it, anyway. Followed Kathleen Stafford and Lily Cooper up to chemistry lab. Deja Vu. Summoned to hall, Organiser standing on chair, shouting. Apparently he was a teacher. Must have been Borstal. The unrecognisable One also spoke (something) deserved applause for The Team followed by equally deserved donation to school funds. The Organiser then ordered us to sing the school hymn. What school hymn? Couldn't find anyone in five yard radius who knew we ever had a school hymn Sang anyway, reading from one inch square hymn sheet. Chatted to Wilf Ward, Joyce Miller (pretty as ever), kissed Chrissie Short - didn't feel cold but still wished I'd remembered to wear the garlic. Back to the table to join the group and finish the wine, assisted by Cynthia Allen, Rod Bewick, Cynthia Allen, Carole Young and Cynthia Allen. Last to leave at 4.30 p.m. feeling 40 years younger.

EVENING.

Arrived early - couldn't find seat. Joined The Nice Person, his wife and John Chilton. Introduced my Bride of Nine Weeks Carole. Explained to Dave Robbie the difficulties he had playing football when using only one leg. Met Jim Pringle. He must have been in pupation during his time at school. Kept bumping into The unrecognisable One, wishing I knew who he was. Ned Wake, Brian Davison and his wife Mary turned up, introduced The Bride. Ned expressed his surprise that she appeared to be quite normal. Alan Beveridge had returned home to Prudhoe three times that day, presumably to make sure he knew the way. His wife Cynthia took the opportunity to change each time.

     Stood in queue for food, as usual, reminded Dave Robbie that if he didn't wear his badge no-one would recognise him. It wasn't Dave Robbie. It was a visitor from Bedlington. Didn't feel embarrassed until trying to get to sleep that night. Looked at more photographs, couldn't help feeling that someone should have arranged official recognition/memento for the Organiser and his team. Another twinge of guilt, soon passed again Spoke briefly to the Go-Kart Kid, avoided the Mad Professor and his digital camera, kicked Tony Brown (long memory). Back to table, joined by Carole Young, long conversation about her living in Denmark, surprised her by being able to pronounce "red stewed fruit" in Danish. Explained it was because Geordies were able to roll their Rs. She should have known that, she was pretty good at that at school. Learned that Brian Davison and Mary played golf. Amazed, he carefully avoided all forms of exercise at school, so arranged match to verify claim. During a pause in Ned Wake's chatter about teaching in Hong Kong Mary related tales of "the lads" at the Roxy Ballroom and Seaton Sluice beach. Must have been deliberate, she knew The Bride would ask awkward questions when we got home. Crowd thinning out, The Nice Person and his wife departed, John Chilton disappeared. Space filled by Colin Potts. He boasted about taking a certain young lady out when at school. Crestfallen when the whole table said we all did. Realised we were last again when the waiter asked us to drink up. Where had the time gone? So many people I still wanted to talk to. Said goodbyes, then The Bride drove a very happy person home to Alnmouth, with just the one stop.

     Wonderful, wonderful day. Ned Wake summed it up perfectly when he said
"Do you realise, if these chaps hadn't organised this we would have lived what remains of our lives without ever meeting again". Many, many thanks to Dawson, Bill, Tony and Fred. Again, please.