The single mothers who met in the staffroomLucy Crowe and Mikayla Jolley, London“There was an automatic trust between us,” Mikayla says of meeting Lucy. “It was instinctive.” The women started teaching assistant jobs at the same school in 2011. Both had previously survived difficult relationships and Lucy had been rehoused with her four children. “We got on well without knowing much about each other,” says Mikayla, 52, who has five sons. “We were the older ones, and quickly found we had the same understanding of what was going on and the same work ethic.”When Mikayla discovered her partner at the time was cheating, “I remember going into school and telling Lucy. I wouldn’t have shared it with anybody else there. She told me, ‘It’s going to be all right, we’re going to sort this out.’ She’s always optimistic; I’m a pessimist.”Lucy remembers picking up the phone to Mikayla late at night for help, too, during an encounter with an ex. “I knew if I called her I’d be safe. I didn’t ask her to come, but she did.” Mikayla remembers it well: “I knew for her to pick up the phone was serious, so I got in the car.”“I saw resilience in Mikayla,” says Lucy, 53, now a child protection chair and grandmother. “We both wanted better lives. Neither of us took the easy way out.”“Maybe, unconsciously, we saw something of ourselves in each other,” Mikayla reflects.Neither had another friend who’d been through what they had. Their pasts were not a big feature of their day-to-day friendship but details would emerge, Mikayla says. “We’ll both drop curveballs every now and again, and the other will say, ‘Did that actually happen?’ We process in similar ways, compartmentalise.”“We share similar responses to life,” Lucy says. “For me, the biggest thing I found in Mikayla is emotional safety.” Both single mothers, they began helping practically with one another’s kids, going out during school holidays and supporting each other emotionally.“If we had difficulties with the kids, neither was judgmental,” Mikayla says. “For me that was big; I’d spent most of my life feeling judged. One of my boys worships the ground Lucy walks on, she’s the only one who can tell him about himself. As a single mum, to have that in a friend is powerful.”When Lucy returned to university in 2014, to study social work, she says, “Everyone said it was too much; Mikayla said, ‘Go do it.’” Mikayla, now a quality assurance officer, says, “Lucy is the same with me. She was always pulling me along with her at work.”Five years ago Lucy suffered a stroke, leaving her without the use of one arm. She remembers, “I collapsed and told my son: I want Mikayla.” Her friend supported her through her rehabilitation and now, Lucy says, “She’s like my personal assistant when we go out.”They live a four-minute drive from each other, and shop, go to gigs and on holiday together. “I think I’ve benefited 70% from Mikayla and she’s benefited 30% from me,” Lucy jokes. “She’s practical and solution-focused. We ground each other and advise on relationships” – although, she jokes, “That’s like the blind leading the blind!”Theirs, Mikayla says, “is a dark humour. I’ll call her crying my eyes out … ” But, Lucy adds, “We end up laughing.”“We’re close like sisters, we speak most days but we don’t live in each other’s pockets,” Mikayla says. For the first time since meeting, their lives are heading in different directions: Lucy is planning a move to Ghana and Mikayla is in a new relationship. Regardless, Lucy says, “I don’t see a time when I’m not close with her.”Mikayla agrees. “She’s loyal. She’s honest. Because of her, I know what to look for in a friendship, and relationship.” Lucy reflects on the best friend she met that day in the staffroom: “She’s consistent, dependable. Mikayla’s more than a friend: she’s family.”The fathers to autistic children who bonded through runningGaz Hitchin and Andy Williams, Shrewsbury