My best mate of 40 years is over from Tassie at the moment. That's us pictured on our horses at 14, sometime in the '80s. On Sunday morning, she sat on the chair in our bedroom where Jamie and I snuggled I bed. Sitting and sipping tea, we chatted for an hour whilst it warmed up. One of the topics that came up was how funny it was that we both married men called Jamie.

Now this might have been a trifling coincidence except our first long term loves had the same first names too. They were both Geoff - spelt the same way, and with the same middle name too - Alan. How does this kind of coincidence happen?

Her Geoff we called Motorbike man. We used to ogle him from afar when we went and saw bands in town. Tall and squared jawed, he was very gorgeous. Most girls wanted Motorbike Man, except my bestie got him.

One night after the pub my girlfriend was asleep in my spare room and Geoff crept into my room with a proposal we would sleep together. Of course I laughed. Are you kidding? As temptimg as the offer was, because he was quite handsome and if we were quiet she would never know, I couldn't help but find the proposal ridiculous and how worried I was about her. I did tell her in the morning. We laughed - he'd been drunk, and no harm done.

The thing is, he never was to be trusted. They spilt up for a few years because of it, but then got back together. I never liked the idea but she'd talked herself into the idea they were meant to be together, and he'd changed. He hadn't. One day she came home and found another girls hair in their bed. She left and never went back, despite his pleading.

Here we are, all this time later, still best mates, those tragic relationships just memories. We are with honest, trustworthy, faithful and dedicated men.

Same names, different characters.

The thought of betraying her never entered my mind. Not once.

With Love,

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