Christine

In 1970, when she was 20 and I was 25, she rescued me from one of my first travel mishaps. She can drive any vehicle that moves, she can make a perfect Yorkshire pudding, she is a computer wonder, and always she has been a solid unflinching friend.

After that first meeting in 1970 we wrote to each other religiously, telling each other every little detail of our lives and hopes. We were each other's confessors. Our loves, fears, attempts, failures. Her marriage. My coming out. Our children born and their milestones. Our jobs and promotions. Always, she lived in Yorkshire, never far from her Mum in Saltaire. Always, I was going somewhere, never with enough money to be sure I could get back. I loved her stability, her life so different from mine, her kindness. I told her everything. She kept my letters and loved me as a sister.

In 84 When I was doing my PhD research, I returned to Yorkshire to see her again, with Seth in tow. He played with her children. In 93, after my first year in Africa, I came to Yorkshire and we revisited York Minster together. Twice when I could be in London for short visits, she got a train down to see me. When tragedy struck her family she let me comfort her. And so we have marked each other's lives. And now we are old women and we meet in Staithes.