Jase

When I was a lad it was easier to lose touch with your friends, even the ones you really liked, especially after the diaspora that saw my peer group erupt out of Kingston to attend universities and polytechnics - yes, I'm that old! - all over the UK.

In those far off days, when there was no Internet to speak of and no mobile 'phones , you had to remember or dig out a friend's 'phone number and then run the risk of a conversation with their parents - or worse, their sarcastic sister - before you could actually get to talk to the person you wanted to.

But the advent of Facebook, Twitter and even Linkedin (although not, ironically, Friends Reunited) has seen people emerge from the woodwork after nearly thirty years.

The odd thing is that on Facebook, I get friend requests from contemporaries at school, some of whom I barely knew, who don't make any contact when you accept the request. This doesn't bother me much - I rarely go on Facebook - but last year my very good friend, Jason, sent a friend request. I accepted and then... nothing.

So, in this case, I did get in touch and over the last few months we've said we might meet up, a slow, hiccuping process, which finally resulted in us meeting up at the Hand in Hand in Wimbledon.

You'll be pleased (or at least passingly interested) to know that we had a splendid evening together. It transpires that both our lives have been rather complicated since we last saw each other and yet I think that the characteristics that first made us friends were still there, undamaged and untarnished. I tend to look forwards in life, despite being rather sentimental about some things, but it was lovely to see Jase again. And hopefully, this was a renewal of our friendship and not just a nostalgia trip.