We’ve changed but we’re just the same

AFEW times a year, me and my two former flatmates get together. We are living in far-flung corners of the country, so to get all three at the same time is not easy.

We have changed in some ways and remain the same in others. There’s the fairly laid-back one, the sometimes ditzy one (I’m afraid to use the word ‘very’ in case I incur their accumulative wrath). I don’t really know how they would describe me. And I don’t want to dwell on it.

We reminisce about various escapades when we were in flatland and boyfriends who are best forgotten. We fall around the place laughing about the two guys who came to repossess our television in the middle of Coronation Street. We begged them to wait until the end and they dutifully sat and watched until the credits rolled. It all seems like yesterday.

But on the last occasion, I very much realised that it wasn’t yesterday at all. We found we had to get a quiet area of the restaurant because none of us can hear if there’s any other noise. That became very evident when we passed a group of teenage boys whom we overheard saying ‘let’s go to the teach beag’ and one of the ‘girls’ thought they said ‘let’s go and chop them up’.

Reminding each other to go to the loo every time we were embarking on a car journey was another notable difference to our days of yore. There was a lot of talk of ailments and the inability to get food directly into the mouth. Drink doesn’t seem to be a problem.

I walked dejectedly along in front of them as they animatedly discussed their various adverse reactions to swimming in the sea; extensive white areas all over the body and dizziness being but two. I’m staying out of those conversations. I’m six months younger.