Our very good friends Chris and Gina have arrived here for a week’s visit.
The last time we saw them was on the day we left England. They came round to take us to the airport hotel and found us floundering and panic-stricken in the middle of an impossible number of jobs which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
‘Don’t worry,’ they said. ‘We’ll take whatever you can’t pack to the charity shop or the dump.’
They disappeared while we drew breath and managed to get the last of our life in something nearly resembling order. They returned an hour later, took us to the hotel, had a drink with us and left as quietly and as encouragingly as they had appeared a few hours earlier.
And now, after almost a year, we are back together again. It’s lovely.
I am reminded, not that I needed to be, of the value and joy of true friendship. It’s like a literature of life.
