THE HARDEST HEARTBREAK

Writer Cary Hansson, 55, had been through break-ups before but none hurt quite as much as this one

- CARY HANSSON

It’s been 40 years since Catherine and I started out as young actresses at drama school. Sharing the same silly sense of humour, we had so much fun, always trying to outdo each other with the next prank. Once, I sellotaped over the eyes of her mask, so on stage, she almost couldn’t see! She retaliated by waiting for a scene where I was required to sit still and then tickled me mercilessly from the side of the stage with a peacock feather! We caused havoc, and laughed until our bladders burst.

That laughter continued through our 20s and our 30s. Out until the early hours as young carefree women in Johannesburg, Miami, Dublin, flogging all kinds of dodgy wares at markets up and down the country as we tried to pay the rent between acting gigs. And of course, Catherine had long-term boyfriends, and so did I.

We shared stories of falling in love, we cried over the difficulties of motherhood, and we were there on each other’s doorstep when our relationships broke down. Occasionally, we argued and gave each other the silent treatment but it would be just a few days before one of us picked up the phone to resolve things.

Our friendship was, or so I thought, completely indestructible.

That was until one November evening, 13 years ago. I was over 40 by then, I was a mother of twins and going through huge life changes. I’d separated from my children’s father, started at university and unexpectedly met a new partner. Catherine, too, was a mother, struggling to put herself through college and raise her son single-handedly.

MOVING APART