Giles

Instead of taking a photo of our friend Giles, whose emigration to New Zealand we were celebrating, or all the old work colleagues I haven't seen in six years or more, I didn't remember to take a picture till we were getting on the train.

A better picture would have featured Giles, Emma Nicks, Lee, Feasty, Lou, Louise, AJ, Gavin, Tim, Tom, Tim Murray, Monica, Chris or Julia.

Old friends, lots of memories. I was reminded of a Christmas lunch at Julies which went on for what seemed like days where we racked up a bill of £3,000 on Champagne which I made Giles put in his credit card, claiming I would sign it off next day. I hope I did. I do remember going to Julies for lunch but I certainly don't remember leaving.

The following year we went to Pharmacy for our Christmas lunch which I remember rather more clearly as I was seven months pregnant with Betsy. I spent the entire lunch with a face like a wet weekend, rolled my eyes if anyone ordered anything stronger than Diet Coke, and had the entire team back at their desks by about 3.15, a departmental record.

Lots of people talked about how sad they were that I left, despite it being such a long time ago. A couple of people told me I was the best manager they ever worked for, something I always thought I was rubbish at. Lots of us, all moved on now to many varied things, remember a particular time as the happiest of their working life so far. There was a time, for about three years when the chemistry was just great. Brilliant titles, huge pressure without being unbearable, lots of success with just enough failures to keep you thinking, the laughs, the in jokes, the banter, the triumphs, the disasters, the hangovers, it was really something special for a while back there.

Tomorrow Betsy leaves Primary School. I know that if I hadn't made the change I did to my life when she was back in Reception I would be bitterly regretting it now. But, looking back, we did kick it.