The pub that changed me: Shattering grief took me there for the first time'

"The Crown Bard in Rhyl had always been there, on the main road on the way out of town. Despite living a five-minute walk away, I don't remember ever going there in my teens, but I must've passed it thousands of times. Local wisdom dictated it was where the rugby lads drank, while the pub directly opposite was where you'd find the football crowd."

"It wasn't sport that took me to the Bard, as it was known, for the first time, but shattering grief. I was 23 and Lee had just died. He was one of my closest friends, someone who, along with his twin brother, Dean, I couldn't recall ever not knowing. We grew up doors apart, went through school together, spent endless hours playing football and tennis. When we were older, we graduated to going out drinking, PlayStation and holidays."

The Crown Bard sat on the main road out of Rhyl and was passed thousands of times without being entered in youth. At 23, Lee, a lifelong friend who grew up doors apart with his twin, was killed after being punched and falling on stone steps. In the aftermath the friendship group all but moved into the Bard's back room, taking over the pool table, dartboard and jukebox. The back room became a constant refuge where anyone could drop in, eat simple meals, find company and escape the claustrophobic gossip of a small town.

Read at www.theguardian.com