MY WEEK BY FRANCIS GAY

A friend who always lends an ear, who cares and tries to always be near, a friend so loyal helps you get through, good friends are rare, make sure you’re one, too.

Lainey was on the last bus home. Three drunk men were harassing the women near them. One by one the woman disembarked at their stops, always with other passengers.

As the bus approached her stop, it seemed like she was the only one getting off.

The men staggered to their feet. Her heart sank.

Then another young man – not one of the gang – walked to the door and stood beside her. The gang sat back down.

Off the bus, Lainey and the man turned in the same direction. Gradually, he pulled ahead of her.

When she reached the entrance to her flat, he was already quite a bit further along the road.

She watched from the gate as he walked past the next bus stop and kept going.

“We never exchanged a word,” Lainey told me.

“But I know two things about him.

“That wasn’t his stop. And he is a gentleman.”

She was so embarrassed at accepting my help.

“When my gran was alive, I could depend on her. She had her life together. “I would be so ashamed to have her see me like this.” It happens I knew her grandparents. I knew them when they were starting their family. I knew something of the difficulties they had in those early years. And I could tell my young friend who had helped them through that the people had helped them get their lives together, to the point where they could help their children – and her. It was an eye-opener for my young friend. “But... I’ll still pay you back,” she insisted. “No,” I said. “You’ll follow your gran’s example. When you get to the better times ahead of you, like she did, you’ll help someone who is in the position you are in now. Just like gran did.”

Let’s call them “Liz” and “George”. They are retired and live in a neat little bungalow. It doesn’t take much upkeep and it’s always neat and tidy.

Most of the bathroom is tiled, leaving two half-walls and an “awkward” corner for painting. It has been painted nine times in the past year! Why? Well, Liz and George have limited reach. So, they use that awkward corner as an excuse to get people in to do the work. What matters are the people they get in. They tend to be in need of money, or need someone to talk to and are too proud to admit it, or need to feel they have a achieved something... Once I discovered their ploy, I wanted to help. But, they don’t need it. So, I bought a tin of pain, for the next person to help a couple of old folk – and be helped in turn.

Amanda’s 21st birthday wasn’t yesterday. She and her dad went for a day in the city. They got off the train at a different stop and wandered, seeing new sights, visiting quirky shops.

“Every time we came to a junction,” she told me, “dad would ask which way I wanted to go and – except the once – we went that way. “It was a great adventure! “It was years later I realised dad knew exactly where we were going. I just happened to choose almost all the right directions, and the one time I didn’t he kept me right.” “Were you annoyed?” I asked. “So annoyed,” Amanda said with a laugh, “that I do the same with my own children now. “And, even though he’s not here any more, when I’m stuck for a direction, I still ask dad!”