29th December 2000 - 8:12 p.m.

“Oh, just a drop of red for me, please.”

“You’re not much of a drinker, are you, Nick?”

“I don’t know that I’m much of an Anything.”

** ** ** **

Train station rendezvous. A sudden glimpse over the far side of the forecourt catches me off-balance. A forlorn, muggy head overtaken in a moment by paroxysms of delight and childishly gleeful grins. Running. And running. I can’t bear the distance between us. And-. And-. Now! The union of arms and bodies and warmth – and friends can be a good thing sometimes, can’t they?