Gandalf and/or Dumbledore was dead. I saw them wheel his body into the hall on a trolley. The white sheet was meant to cover the entire corpse, but strands of long white hair could not be contained and peeked out from under the cover. Similarly, a pale hand dangled from a thin white arm, clearly visible to those of us who watched as the trolley was pushed into position.
But what was a dead fictional hero doing at our university reunion? Then it dawned on me that the shape of the body under the white sheet was very similar to that of JG, who had not yet arrived. Had our dear friend finally been finished off after a life-time diet of sweets, cigarettes and booze?
Saddened by this possibility, I wandered over the buffet table to see if some food might cheer me up. KH and SB had just walked into the room with some beautiful chocolate and coffee mousses. I popped one into my mouth and joined a conversation about our next meeting.
“That will be our 40th anniversary in 2026?” I suggested.
“No”, replied JS. “We’re going to get together next summer. KH and SB have access to a field in the New Forest. They’ll order some portaloos and a marquee, and we’ll all bring our tents.”
I said that I would do my best to make it, work commitments permitting. I was about to elaborate on my reply when I felt a pinch on my bottom. The culprit couldn’t be TPR because he was across the other side of the room listening to a read-through of Beowulf by a couple of professional actors.
I looked behind me and soon identified two suspects. The first was known to me as Effes. I found it hard to believe it when he confessed that he had fancied me for 30 years. I also wondered whether he was lying when he told me that he was in the forthcoming remake of Fawlty Towers with John Cleese. Suspect number two said exactly the same. What was wrong with the pair of them?
I left this ludicrous conversation to join SPC. She would surely have something more sensible to say? I was disappointed: she was summoning up her courage to confess an affair with a younger man.
Dreamaticus 