When you’re younger, the term “best friend” is used so loosely. “You’ll be my best friend if you let me share your sweets” “Me and my best friend made up this song about crisps to the tune of Any Dream Will Do” (that one is actually true. Boughton Heath was an odd primary school.)
I was forced to move primary schools when I was in Year 3 (8 years old) to Huntington Primary. This was a small village school where everyone had grown up together, which was pretty intimidating when you’ve been used to the same situation yourself and now you know nobody. (I felt like the new kid until year 8, a year after we started high school!)
On my first day, Mr Rees asked Helen to look after me. We were going to the “big” school (Christleton High, which would be my home for 7 years) for a swimming lesson, which I barely remember. So for some reason, I ended up friends with Helen, her cousin Rachael and Rachaels best friend Gemma. And we’ve been friends since then. It didn’t matter that we all went to separate unis, or that Gemma went halfway around the world and some of us didn’t even know. We know that when we get together, we’ll always have lots of fun, and take a million photos, including the now traditional four feet photo.
Although they weren’t around me when my Mum died (because my head was completely up my arse and I didn’t tell them at first – because I was afraid it would be too upsetting for them?), they were some of the most supportive friends I have. I miss them so much and wish they would get down to Bristol to visit me (I know Helen is coming down for my birthday gathering next month, squee! This apparently makes her my best best friend.)
Here is Gemma, Rachael, Helen and me a few weeks after I started at the school. Check out those stylish outfits. We were Arawack Indians, with a chant and pillowcases for tunics.