TAKE that! Two teenage girls scamper down a North East back street yard, incensed because the elder had locked the younger in the cupboard under the stairs to keep her from making stupid faces and comments while she sat with her young man.

Incensed because, once freed, the younger grabbed a carving knife and threatened to take it to the other’s precious hard-earned stockings in revenge. But as fast as the anger flared it dissipated, because here was a pair who might as well have been identical twins in their bond with each other.

Picture them a little bit older, whispering together at night in the back bedroom of a terraced house in the back streets of a northern town, trying to keep the noise down because they don’t want to be told to keep quiet.

The younger has escaped the coop and joined the Wrens and is back home on leave regaling with stories of her adventures. The elder is agog but protective too as she knows only too well how easily the younger one gets into scrapes, for she’s watched her do it then rescued her time and again ever since they were children.

Later still they both marry. Homes are made and babies are born. Their husbands are chalk and cheese but what binds their families together is the strength of the women’s bond.

When they see each other no one can get a word in edgeways. They settle on the sofa, cups of tea at the ready and they’re off.

The menfolk snore the time away in their easy chairs, their offspring amuse themselves and do the things that children do. There’s a bit of an interlude while afternoon tea gets made but they’re still nattering away non-stop while they’re buttering the bread and slicing the cake.

They always have something new to say and never tire of each other’s company. Every time they meet they carry on where they left off and the rest of the world stops. Phone bills are healthily expensive because when they call each other for a chat, it’s a chat of an hour or more. No call is ever a quick hello and goodbye.

Over the years they’ve laughed and cried together. They cleaved to each other when loved ones died and found solace in each other’s company. They comforted each other when both their brothers lost their respective battles with illness.

The first person the younger turned to in times of trouble was the elder. When the younger’s husband became ill and she nursed him for several years until he too died, the elder was there as a comfort and sounding board when the going got tough. She was always there as a listener, to comfort and reassure.

And when the bad times eased she helped the younger laugh again. Still they chatted. Still they ran up the big phone bills as they talked across the miles, and still they nattered non-stop side by side on the sofa when they got together, the teapot endlessly filled.

Then it was the younger’s time to offer succour and solace to the other as she grieved for her soulmate husband. As before in times of loss they cried together and it wasn’t only the memories that gave them comfort but each other.

And still they nattered on. The phone calls continued, the side-by-side chats were as lively and intense as they ever were.

The world still stopped when they were together but it didn’t stop them putting it to rights with all the vigour of years gone by.

Now picture them today. After all these years they are still side-by-side, but not on the sofa drinking tea. One is in a chair and next to her the other is in a hospital bed. All is quiet now for the nattering has stilled. The elder is asleep, so small in the bed, and the younger is holding her hand.

A time when they’ll no longer be together is approaching and it’s their world that’s stopping. And the pain of it is palpable to those close to them who are standing by.

For this is the tale of two sisters that has spanned almost nine decades. The younger is my mum and the elder is my adored aunt. As I watch, the only thing I want for them is for the nattering to start up again and go on and on forever. And it will, if only in cherished memories.