I had been doing a bit of voluntary work in Beeston and sat on the long back seat of the bus to get the breeze. At the other end of the seat was a woman about my age engrossed in her mobile.
As we approached a set of lights she came across to my side, sat opposite me and started to take photos of a derelict pub, the Junction. We got to chatting, as tends to happen in Leeds, and were remembering Beeston as it used to be.
I mentioned that my cousins lived in a house near to where her mum now lives and gave their names. That's when she pipes up "Denise, Denise XXXX!, married to Steve?" "Yes, that Denise" I replied. "Crikey." she says "Denise and I shared a house in Harehills when we were on nurse training. I was one of her bridesmaids when she got wed."