This was the most peculiar of university reunions.

First the woman across the table congratulated me on another successful event. “I didn’t organise this!” I responded. (I secretly added “Had I been in charge this would have amounted to far more than a drab tea party for ten people. Where is everyone? For goodness sake, they haven’t even managed to summon up JS. It’s a disgrace!”)

Later I was told that SB was not attending because of “domestic difficulties” – by SB herself who was sitting next to me. She didn’t appreciate the lack of logic in her claim.

Then there were the impostors who had no right to be there at all: CM and MSB from my running club (the latter showing an unusual interest in dentistry), and SF from my primary school, who couldn’t help admitting how much he admired the firework themed mittens that I wore to class when I was eleven.

This was all too much for me to cope with so TPR and I battled our way through a crowd of Manchester United fans to catch the bus from Leith back into central Birmingham.