The noise of Old Friends

 

I’ve know the Irish powerhouse Gráinne and Liverpudlian Hillary almost as long as I have Nu, though have seen them and their husbands more sporadically than I have my best friend. Today I remedied that by driving over to Anglesey to catch up with them all, including extended family and Nu’s husband Jim at a beautiful Georgian farmhouse just outside Beaumaris.

It was lovely.

Of course the decibel count was through the roof, but moments after sitting down at their dinner table set for 11, I was blissfully transported to back 1989 when young physiotherapists met young nurses at the Irish pubs of Sheffield . 

I sat and listened to the banter and shouting and singing and warmth like a thirsty man would look at a pint of ice cold lager.