A vignette of friendship

This is only because I treasure friends, and always feel bad about not staying in touch.

So: one friend reminded me of another I hadn't heard from for a while, and Google revealed a phone number.

Back when we were in close contact – working in the same place, and she'd had Ms T's roasts at our home and raved about them, and drunk too much wine with us from time to time – I knew that she (name withheld, etc) liked to sing. As I do.

I don't have a bad voice, and I can hold a tune, but I know from trying to sing in public that I have no personality behind a microphone. But singing with friends I love dearly, and it nearly never happens.

You can imagine that finding a workmate who liked to sing, and – treasure of treasures! – could hold a melody while I improvised harmonies … Well, it's a treasure. Even if it bugs the hell out of workmates on a Friday afternoon:

“If you two do 'Afternoon Delight' again I'm going to kill you!” That sort of thing. (I can't actually remember what songs bugged our workmates - after a decade, I'm just guessing).

But we fell out of touch, because I've been paying attention to matters closer to home, and she's been forging a new career.

And I called, because I remembered and found the number. And I remembered our party trick, and I dialled and let the phone answer and she gave her name, and I didn't give mine. Instead, I started singing:

“Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'

Birds singing in a sycamore tree,

Dream a little dream of me.”

She might have tried to keep up for a line before she collapsed in laughter and we returned to a normal phone call.

We talked for half an hour, apologising that we couldn't talk long, and I'm still smiling.

Truly, such things are the stuff of life and love and friendship.