At 60, I can finally spot the hallmarks of a true friend
telegraph.co.ukthe whole of our youth.As I got older, a second special classmate shared my passion for ballet – I forgave her when she was cast as Cinderella and I was assigned Ugly Sister.
I also had a chum who lived further afield, so we founded the Black Cat Club (it had a membership of two). Every week, we compiled a magazine to post to one another, with pictures, puzzles and more (perhaps that’s why I went into publishing and she took up graphic design).At 18, we all went our separate ways, sending the odd card, attending a couple of weddings and, latterly, parents’ funerals, but close ties, if not cut, were certainly dropped.
And that was OK. Because friends enter and exit your life like characters in those Victorian toy theatres, sliding in and out of the drama.
Sometimes, they’re around for the early scenes. Other times, they’re integral to the ongoing plot. But if they leave the stage, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t a meaningful part of your story or that they won’t slide back in again when the time is right.
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