[Kath]

So many reams of paper had surrounded Kath for the past few weeks that another piece, beautifully addressed though it was, had quite escaped her notice. But finally all the other sheets had been bundled together and sent off into the desperately grateful hands of parents across the land, ready to be opened and met with cries of: “But that’s not how they did it in my day!” and “What do they mean by ‘bus stop method?’” followed by copious amounts of weeping and a few hefty splashes of gin.

A party, the letter said. A chance for old friends to gather and reminisce and enjoy each other’s company in a way that Kath could barely remember. If any silver lining could come from this strange new world everyone was living in, well, this was certainly one example. It was such a special occasion, Kath even dug out some appropriately themed attire (last worn, to the delight of the small charges she taught, for Shakespeare Week) before setting off with all haste.

Despite that, she was inevitably late to the celebrations, and by more than just Day 1 this time. And yet, as she carefully manoeuvred around the myriad of obstacles by the door and stood washing her hands (singing Happy Birthday under her breath), she felt glad of her late arrival as it meant that she had time to adjust to seeing so many people from such a happy time all those years ago. Tears sprang to her eyes for a moment as a warm feeling of ‘home’ passed over her.

An instant later they were gone as she was welcomed with good cheer, handed a drink and pulled straight into conversation. It was as if she had never been away.