Last updated at 1:56 AM on 10th October 2011
Three months ago, in response to a distress call from my parents in Manchester, I went on a mercy dash to a flat in West London to find a tiny, elderly figure huddled on a Chesterfield sofa.
Just as I was about to be overwhelmed by pity for this frail old lady, she opened her mouth.
Don't mind the age gap: Deborah Watson, 33 and Glenna Trout, 61, have been friends for seven years
'Have you seen what they're doing to the outside of my flat?' she hissed. 'Bloody Italian Mafia next door. I call her Mrs Corleone. This place isn't what it used to be.'
I sat down, non-plussed by the angry words of my estranged great-aunt Ruth, whom I hadn't seen in more than 25 years.
Independent, opinionated, vain, caustic and, now at 90, childless and alone, she was reaching out to her closest family: me, a 40-year-old mother-of-two, living on the other side of London.
Ruth had phoned my parents saying she was hungry and had no food in the house - and they, in turn, had called me.
After that brief outburst of vitriol came the stories. Ah, the stories. Of a nave, beautiful 18-year-old Jewish girl shipped to Manchester from Hamburg to escape Hitler, leaving Manchester after a week ('not glamorous enough') and setting her sights on London where she fell for a man 25 years her senior - my father's uncle.
He was to wine, dine and, eventually, marry her. But not, she stressed, before she had flirted with most of the eligible bachelors in London. 'Anthony Eden was my favourite,' she confided, and I don't think she was joking.
That chance meeting was the start of a gloriously unexpected friendship that had me putting my husband in charge of the children's bath-time once a week so I could travel - chicken soup in tow - to visit my great-aunt for the next instalment in her colourful life story.
Occasionally, she'd point her bony finger and throw me a question, or call me 'The Rebel' - referring to my marriage to a non-Jew - but, mostly, the floor was hers and I was captivated.
It felt as though I was bearing witness to a life fully and truly lived, and there were many lessons to be learned. In between her stories and vicious complaints about the neighbours, there were so many pearls.
Rewarding: Women who develop friendships outside their own age group find they gain so much (Posed by models)
'Kindness in a man is everything,' was one. 'Have no regrets' was another. Then, recently, when she was taken into hospital after collapsing at home: 'Life is full of ups and downs but it always ends on a down - remember that.'
When you think of how we traditionally form friendships: at school, at work, from our neighbourhood, it's not surprising that, mostly, our friends tend to be close in age to us and from similar backgrounds.
Yet, like me, there are others who have discovered that great friendships can cross the generational divide, bringing unexpected joy to both parties.
In all honesty I doubt I would have had the time or patience to befriend an older lady in my 20s. I might even have been embarrassed by it.
But Lisa Tallant, 28, is proud to say that her closest friend, Lynda Cooper, is a grandmother 32 years her senior.
'Lynda is how I think an ideal mother would be,' says Lisa, a part-time administration assistant who lives in Bradford.
Firm friends: Lynda Cooper and Lisa Tallant have struck up a supporting friendship, despite the difference in their age
'She doesn't judge or interfere, and she supports me unconditionally.'
The pair met when Lynda interviewed Lisa for an NHS administration job eight years ago. 'There was something about Lynda which made her so easy to talk to,' says Lisa.
Outside work, they went out for dinner, and at weekends they went away together to West Sussex, where Lisa's grandparents had a house.
Their friendship intensified after Lisa gave birth to her daughter, Ruby, in 2005.
'I had a strained relationship with my parents, and Lynda became a sort of mother-figure,' says Lisa. 'When Ruby was colicky in the evenings and I was feeling desperate, Lynda would reassure me, telling me how she used to walk what seemed like miles round her house with her son, Andrew, when he suffered with it.
'She never told me what to do - she'd just recall her own experiences and give me gentle hints.'
When Lisa's marriage ended three years later, it hit her hard and Lynda, who had suffered from depression, became an invaluable support. 'She would come over, bringing her dog, and insist we go for a walk along the canal,' recalls Lisa.
'On a bad day, she'd even do my ironing and washing for me. But it was what she said, rather than did, that made a difference.
'When Ruby started playing up, I'd blame the break-up, and myself for instigating it. But Lynda had been married for 37 years and told me relationships were hard work, reassuring me that I had done my best.
'"You're a great mum," she'd tell me. Coming from a woman with all her experience that meant such at lot.'
Lynda, for her part, found Lisa's relative youth a breath of fresh air. 'At that first interview, she lit up the room with her energy and enthusiasm. I couldn't not hire her,' Lynda says.
'Despite her age, she seemed older than her years. Life had made her very grown up.'
Lisa's struggles with her marriage resonated with Lynda. 'I understood depression. I had recently lost my sister to stomach cancer, and my son had moved away for work, taking my three gorgeous granddaughters with him, so I'd been at a low ebb myself,' says Lynda.
'Lisa was incredibly supportive with phone calls, visits and emails, so I wanted to do the same for her. She's like my surrogate daughter. All she needed was someone to tell her she was doing a good job — and that's what I did.'
As for the age gap, Lynda says: 'We all have so much to give, young or old. If you value a person, it doesn't matter what age they are.'
Psychologist Dr Saima Latif believes such inter-generational friendships can be meaningful because, unlike those with friends your own age, they tend to be free of jealousy and judgement.
Support network: Nowadays many families are constantly relocating, with the result that support networks of mothers and grandmothers aren't always available (Posed by models)
She says: 'At a time when families often live far away from each other, these inter-generational friendships can provide a much-needed familial stability with no strings attached.
'In the past, grandparents or elderly relatives would live around the corner, but nowadays work and busy lives mean that women miss out on these relationships and everything they have to offer.
'For the younger party, it's like having a mother who you can tell everything to without feeling judged or criticised. For the older person, it's being able to pass on knowledge and advice and still feel young and relevant.'
It's also true that friendship doesn't have to mean having interests in common or doing the same things at the same time. After all, look at me - in the thick of motherhood but spending treasured time with a nonagenarian who had deemed children 'a nuisance from beginning to end'.
Touching: You don't even have to have things in common to develop a friendship (Posed by models)
For Deborah Watson, 33, from Woodbridge, Suffolk, her friendship with Glenna Trout, 61, has been hugely influential on her career, confidence and, ultimately, her happiness. 'You can't help but be in a room with Glenna and feel as though you really matter,' says Deborah.
They met six years ago when former journalist Deborah was interviewing Glenna's partner, a police officer, at a time when Deborah was thinking about setting up her own business.
'I was nervous about taking the leap,' Deborah recalls. 'I'd always done the conventional thing, and I wasn't confident I could go through with it.'
Glenna, who had a successful career as a police officer in the U.S. and now lectures on domestic violence prevention, was a key influence.
Having moved to the UK from America 19 years ago, she lived close to Deborah and they often met up to discuss life's challenges over a cup of coffee. 'Glenna told me I was a strong, creative person and to be confident in my own decisions,' says Deborah.
'While family or friends might have said the same, I trusted Glenna implicitly. It was something to do with the weight of her experience and the fact she had no ulterior motive other than to support me.'
Encouraged by Glenna, Deborah took the plunge and set up her own PR agency, and the friendship deepened.
'There were so many parallels in our lives, despite the age gap,' says Deborah. 'While my career was taking off in an exciting new direction, I was unfulfilled in other areas. Girlfriends were settling down and having babies but, at 30, I found myself living alone after a long-term relationship failed. The dream of marriage and children felt even further from my grasp.
'Glenna hadn't ticked off those boxes at my age either, and she was living proof that it didn't matter.'
Valuable lesson: Age is no barrier to remarkable friendships (Posed by models)
The 28-year age gap between the two women also means there is no competitiveness, as there so often can be with friends who are the same age.
'There's no child at her feet or wedding band on her finger. I don't get caught up with how I'm doing in comparison to her,' says Deborah. 'All I see is a calm wisdom that has been born out of Glenna's experience and how incredibly happy she is with her life.'
The friendship moved onto a whole new level three years ago when Deborah lost her grandmother, her father was diagnosed with prostate cancer and her brother got married - all around the same time.
'Glenna would call or email me daily, and if I went silent because I didn't feel like speaking to anyone, she'd email to ask if everything was OK, or send me an uplifting poem or quote,' says Deborah.
'She helped me be the supportive daughter, delighted sister and resilient businesswoman when I didn't feel I was any of those things.'
For Glenna, too, Deborah's friendship is a gift. 'I always had older people in my life who taught me great lessons, and when I met Deborah, I detected a vulnerability and wanted to help,' she says.
'I've had my fair share of experiences. I've had two failed marriages, I've been in an abusive relationship, and I've never been able to have children, even though I wanted them.
'But as an elderly friend once told me, there are three lessons in life: spend more time enjoying each day; take more risks (after all, you never get out of life alive); and don't die with regrets.
'If I can make Deborah realise that life isn't always comfortable, but is still fascinating and worthwhile, then I'm doing a good job.'
During the course of writing this article, my dear great-aunt Ruth passed away.
By coincidence - or fate - I was visiting her in hospital the day she died, so I was there - right beside her, stroking her arm - as her breathing slowed.
I told her how elegant and beautiful she looked: how she had touched my life like no one else, and how much I was going to miss her. Then I said a prayer, and her breath ebbed away.
The room was silent. There were no more stories, no more stabs of her bony finger, no more lessons to be learned.
Apart from one: which is that remarkable friendships can be had at any age.
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