I HAVE talked often in this column about how fortunate I am to have a close group of friends. I say fortunate because not everyone is fortunate enough, for many reasons, to have one close friend, let alone a group. Friendship, like any relationship, isn’t a right; it doesn’t follow a plan; it isn’t always easy and uncomplicated and it doesn’t necessarily get bestowed upon those who most deserve it.

Some of my friends are fairly new and some incredibly long standing, the longest standing of all being my friend Alex. I’ve known Alex from the age of 11, but recall her being my ‘proper’ friend from 14, around the time of GCSE Drama. I noticed her huge, bluebell eyes and bob of blond hair and a laugh that said friendly, but wicked, something subsequently I have found to echo her glorious personality.

By ‘A’ Level, my natural red hair had been dyed black, but she remained constant, sunny outside mirroring a sunny inside. Then one day I was a monkey. I don’t recall the detail, (Alex probably does), but I do recall she told me off. I deserved it. She called me out and that sun turned to steel and that warmth I had always felt towards her had a massive dollop of respect added to it. Throughout University we visited one another, spending what felt like hours at Crewe station on chilly Sunday evenings waiting for connecting trains. We discussed boyfriends and crushes, hopes and ideas; drank B52s and cheap wine and danced to 80’s golden oldies and tunes that would one day become 90’s classics.

In the ‘grown up’ years we’ve been there for marriages, babies, illnesses, deaths, career changes, study, house moves and rifts. It’s not for just anyone I would clamber pregnant, in to a punt on the Cam, but I happily did for Alex’s 30th. I have a memory of Alex linked with every significant moment in my life and myriad memories of Alex at so many less Hallmark, but still important times. She’s present even when not present. Recently my Son sang with a choir at St David’s Hall and I thought, Alex would love this, because she’s a singer too.

Now we’re 200 miles apart, but make time for afternoon tea; trips to see musicals and sitting on each others’ settees sipping tea and a friendship born in a school theatre is nurtured and cherished. It was on my settee that she asked me to be Godmother to her child and I can think of few things of which I am more proud.

Alex’s parents live close to mine and 25 years later, when we’re both ‘home’ and my Dad is dropping me at hers so we can pop to the pub, it’s a standing joke that we get lost on the five minute journey, every time. But what is never lost is the loyalty, love and respect that our friendship is built on and for which I will forever be grateful.