She’s in her late 40s now: we first met when we were both teenagers. She was a trainee nurse, I was still at school – there was just over a year’s age difference between us. She had become a nurse, she told us cheerfully, because the careers adviser at her school knew three things to tell girls: be a secretary, be a nun, be a nurse. She couldn’t type and didn’t believe in God, so that left just one option.
We’d been friends for twenty years before she finally admitted that wasn’t exactly true.