The reunion is in full swing and proving to be far more successful than I'd ever imagined it would be. My evening has been spent wandering from one group of school mates to another, laughing and joking as we shared the odd experience, and of course, flirting with a few of the girls.

In the months leading up to the reunion, I'd hoped that the group of lads with whom I'd shared a schoolboy adventure, would show. However, only one of the lads Mac had answered my message on the Internet. Believing in my heart of hearts that this did not bode well I began to despair at their failure to arrive. I tried hard not to let my disappointment spoil my evening and made the most of the opportunity. As the evening wore on I felt myself getting a little warm and sensed the onrush of an embarrassing hot flush. Desperately in need of some cool air I furtively made my way toward the balcony. On my way to the exit, I was met by any number of eager faces, keen to chat. It was unfortunate, but with little choice, I made some lame excuse and quickly moved on. After what seemed like an eternity the balcony was finally beneath my unsure feet. I supported myself on the handrail and gratefully inhaled the cool evening air. Resting there for a while, I gazed deliberately across the playing field toward Southmead Road and beyond. Toward the top of the hill, as expected my eyes caught sight of the copper-headed church spire. I had always been impressed by that daunting spire which belonged to St. Gregory the Greats. It was what you might call the family church, having been the venue of family wedding ceremonies for many generations. Therefore, it was only natural that my parents chose to have me christened there. This was obviously an event for which I have no memory, and if such memories had been retained they were now of little significance. My mind now focussed on more recent memories of my parent's successive funeral services, now more than ten years ago, but still intensely painful. There had never been a cause for me to think my parents were immortal, but they were my parents and I had no desire to lose either of them. However, the last thing we expected was to lose them both in the space of five short months. The easiest and least painful way for me to deal with this was to put on my realist's safety cap and tell myself it was the best outcome for them.

'Do I believe that'?

Whether I do or not is not that important, what matters is that it gives me some peace of mind, a rare thing in the bizarre world that my mind so frequently inhabits.

It's not long before I begin to do what I do best, drift aimlessly among my thoughts, which on this occasion were the many memories of the surrounding area. This daydream is brought to a halt, when a firm, but a gentle hand comes to rest on my shoulder. The arrival of the hand is followed by the sound of a familiar voice. It speaks to me with reassuring ease and with words that are an echo from my childhood. The voice's impact on me is surreal, and it oozes with a profound sense of wisdom, as it recants a phrase that is all too familiar.

'Please remember the advice I gave to you all those years ago son.'

'Everything comes to those who wait.'

It took just an instant for me to recognise its owner, but even so, I can't believe my ears. The effect of these words on me is dramatic, it kick-starts my brain and quicker than a flash of light my mind jumps back to another reality.

I wheel around unbothered by my normally troublesome arthritic neck, to see the familiar face of an Old Man smiling back at me.

'My God, is it really you Joshua?'

With tears of joy welling up in my eyes, I impulsively grab him in a welcoming embrace. The onrush of joy and well-being surging through every fibre of my body is exhilarating, I can't recall the last time I felt so alive. Lifting Joshua off his feet and spinning him around with ease, I become lost in a twirl of joy. The light radiating from nearby street lamps, homes, the club and stars above, began to blur and merge surrounding us with a swirling iridescent halo of light.

The Old Man speaks to me and his voice cuts easily through my euphoria, like a finely-honed blade, its razor-like edge reaches into the very epicentre of my mind.

His voice is as clear as a church bell on a frosty winter's day. Resonating with such clarity, it's as if it was the only sound in the universe, and his colloquial accent accentuated the impact.

'Steady on young-un.'

'If you don't stop yer frolicking sometime soon, you'll have me falling over, all giddy like.'

I know he's right, but still, feel a little disappointment at having to contain my elation and reply reluctantly.

'OK Old Man, have it your way!'

'I could not help myself, being overwhelmed by the joy and excitement of seeing you again.'

With my little bubble of euphoria burst, I slow down my twirl, and with a touch of reverence place the Old Man back on the balcony. Without thinking I fire off a couple of naïve statements and promptly follow these up with an equally naïve question.

'Joshua, it seems like an eternity since we last met, my life's not been the same since you stopped poking your nose in.'

'Where have you been?'

He didn't need to speak, my subconscious anticipated his response.

Tilting his head in reply to my words he gave me a rather stern look, I feel just like a naughty little schoolboy, as he promptly puts me in my place.

'Now, now then lad, steady on, you must remember to think before you speak.'

'You, more than most, should know better than to be asking that sort of question, in public.'

Finally, to further highlight my lack of discretion, he flashes his piercing eyes around the packed room.

Not allowing me the time to think of a reply, he continues cheerfully.

'Anyway lad, tonight there is more important business to be had here.'

'The time for the gathering of the 'Five' has arrived.'

Coughing tactfully the Old Man composes himself, by tugging a well-worn waistcoat neatly over his belt and smoothing his silken grey hair into place.

Looking at his waistcoat I could swear it was the same one he was wearing at our first meeting a lifetime ago. There was no time to dwell on that thought, as he beckons me to follow him. Spinning around on his heels, he starts walking around the balcony, toward the far side of the room.

It's astonishing, just a few minutes ago I could hardly breathe and struggled to make my way through the throngs of people gathered on the balcony, but now I'm walking with ease through the same crowd. No one bared our way as we headed toward a table occupied by four young men. You would be forgiven for thinking this was just a little odd, just as I am. Surely four teenagers should have appeared out of place at a school reunion, for the over-forties. Oh well, senseless as it might appear, no one else seems bothered. Joshua and I arrive at the table, unnoticed by the four lads, who are lost deep in a rather loud and excited conversation. For a short, while we stood, watching and listening to the youngster's enthusiastic chatter, they are obviously flushed with the exuberance of youth.

In response to one of Joshua's discreet coughs, the lads bring their excited conversation to a halt. Broken from their revelry, they begin turning slowly to look up from the table.

As the first of the young faces come into view, I recognise it immediately, it's Mac, who had that familiar broad, innocent smile breaking on his face. In anticipation of what was to come I was already moving my eyes to focus on the next face to turn. My heart skipped a beat when realising it was Owl's, as he winked at me. Simultaneously the next two faces came into view, I could barely believe my eyes, it was Gio and Tank.

With my wish fulfilled I am overwhelmed and for a very long moment, we all remain motionless, just gazing at each other in sheer bewilderment.

The breathless silence seems endless, but in one synchronised motion all the lads rose to their feet and spilt around the table toward me. Drawn like a magnet I leapt at them, slapping 'High Five's' into outstretched palms, a greeting uncommon to youths of our generation. In an instant we are huddled in a writhing embrace that spanned a lifetime, clearly, the kinship of our youth had never been forgotten. The laughter and joy of our reunion echoes around the balcony, the atmosphere created captures the attention of everyone present. There had been a few exciting reunions tonight, but none to match ours, everyone is bloody amazed to see five middle-aged men leaping around like a bunch of adolescent youths.

Pretty soon, we are lost in rapturous revelry, busily reliving our experiences in the most dramatic fashion.

The Old Man with his task successfully completed, whispered cheerfully to himself, before, disappearing into the night like a ghost.

'Everything comes to those who wait, and I'll be waiting for you son.'

There's no stopping us re-born teenagers, as we vie boisterously to recall our personal experience of the memorable times we'd shared. First one, then another takes the lead. Each memory shared activates redundant neurones, enabling us to reach deep into those endless rivers of time, releasing long sunken memories, and evoking long lost emotions.

I know I'm already repeating myself, but it was just moments ago that I'd struggled to breathe and put names to faces. How is it, that these memories are now abundantly clear? How could it be, that the events we now discussed seem so fresh, seem so new?

It's as if they'd happened only the day before!

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