Now, this is the title of the latest book by my friend Judy Astley, and very good it is too. It is also a very good title for this post, because the book deals with finding - or being found by - people from your past. Which is what has just happened to me, and I'm stunned!
Once upon a time, when I attended Clapham County Grammar School for Girls, a group of us occasionally interacted (!) with a group of boys. Over the years, I lost touch with most of them, girls included, but Brendan stayed a constant. Tall, dark and handsome, he was around to take me for drives, to parties, even to the theatre on one memorable occasion. We last spoke on the phone six months after I'd got together with the late dh, and that was that.
So imagine my surprise, dear reader, when an email turned up in my inbox yesterday morning. He had just joined Friends Reunited, and I'd forgotten I had a brief profile on there. Terribly excited, I paid me money and replied.
This morning I had a long, long email from him remembering all the incidents from our joint past that I also remembered, including some I'd forgotten. As he hasn't got broadband in his flat (in Switzerland) I shall have to wait for him to visit the next internet cafe for the next instalment, but we did spend a lot of this morning when I should have been working emailing back and forth.
Exciting, but is it a dangerous occupation? In her book, Judy comes to the conclusion that it can be, and of course, we all remember the problems Friends Reunited had when it was in its infancy. It's very tempting, especially when drearily over the hill as I am, to fantasise a little, isn't it? And I am...
Bother Judy. I can't use it for a book, now...
