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Instead, he checked that I was OK, asked if I needed any money, and gently encouraged me to think about my future plans.
Looking back, that chat marks the moment I first realised he might make the most marvellously supportive ally.
As I left my teens, the effect of the age-gap between us shrank further still.
By the time Tony returned to London a junior doctor, I was 24 and a full-time dancer, with a colourful social life filled with a cast of pretty, single girlfriends.
This man is neither a lover, nor ‘just’ a friend, but my older brother, Tony, who, in the absence of both a husband and a father, has become the most important man in my life.
Still, so many people have confused him for my other half that I’ve joked we should go out in T-shirts emblazoned with the words ‘brother’ and ‘sister’.
He probably agreed I should start my studies, or at least knuckle down to a more conventional future than spending my days dancing and nights serving behind a bar.
I remember one particular phone call, as my 20-year marriage came to a close, when I screamed at him in an endless blaze of anger - struggling to reconcile myself with the fact I hadn’t been able to keep my family together for my two daughters, and taking it out on the one person I still could.I was happy-go-lucky, sociable and, on reflection, probably quite an annoying little sister.Our long periods of indifferent silence were interrupted only by huge arguments, which ended with flying tomato ketchup bottles and bruised shins. Indeed, Tony spent much of his teenage years trying to keep me away from him and his friends.Always keen for his approval, I was hesitant about introducing the two men I loved most.My courtship with Nick, 26, an actor, was swift and I must have known deep down it was not the wisest course of action, rushing in as we were.