Far-away friends
A year ago, I emptied my London flat of the final few boxes and locked the door for the last time. I cried as my partner and I got in the van and set off on the M1 towards Yorkshire – our new home – in part because I was nervous about the big change, but mostly because I was leaving behind my best friends.
When I went to university more than a decade ago, it didn’t take long to work out who I would become close to. A few years later, I moved to the capital and met another group of friends. We soon became inseparable, seeing each other every week to vent over wine or coffee, if not every few days.
As we navigated the occasional rough-ride of our 20s, we
