Mum was an indomitable lady. Born in London she spent her early years in Hampstead. At the great age of four she was found brandishing a pair of scissors in hot pursuit of the house cat. When asked what she was doing with the scissors she pulled herself up to her full, four year old, height and announced,

“I'm going to trim Blackie's whiskers. They look untidy.”

When told this would hurt Blackie she was mortified. As she was when she fell off a donkey aged six and sustained a greenstick fracture to her arm. Mum was a great animal lover and, arm strapped up and unusable, she still insisted on being taken to the donkey to feed him carrots and apples.

Years passed, Mum grew up and attended Downe House School where she learned to play cricket, tennis and lacrosse. She was a great sports woman and was later to pass on her skills to me. She added golf to her repertoire and loved to walk and, I later found out, to dive, swim and sail. She was also a very accomplished violinist.

When she left school Mum wanted to work but her father wouldn't hear of it. He felt there were people who needed jobs more than her. Mum went to Germany where she learned the language and became fluent. Mum never lost her knowledge of the language. She also never lost her hatred of Barclays Bank. They left her stranded without funds. She banked with Nat West ever after.

Mum was relieved when WW2 broke out. She could do active service. She applied to join the Wrens – Woman's Royal Naval Service. Whilst waiting for her application to be approved she drove the Fire Chief to the London fires. One day she swerved for a dog and got a real roasting from her boss. 'You could have killed somebody.' Mum's sympathies were with the dog.

Mum did her basic training and was posted to Gibraltar. The previous ship bound that way was torpedoed with all hands lost. Thankfully Mum survived the trip OK. Once there she took up her post as a wireless operator and loved her work. She also loved the social life. With 600 men and 30 women on The Rock what self-respecting female wouldn't? In Gib Mum sailed a Sharpie dinghy. The Governor of Gibraltar was also a keen sailor.

One Sunday afternoon he asked Mum to join him. The two boats came bow to bow. The Governor stepped chivalrously on to his foredeck to take Mum's hand in an attempt to help her across into his boat. What happened next nobody knows but it came to be known as 'The Time Mum dropped The Governor in The Drink.' Mum went to step across into the Governor's boat. As she did so the boats parted. She and the Governor dropped hand in hand into Gibraltar Bay. They came up spluttering. The Governor burst out laughing and held Mum's embarrassed hand high for all to see.

The war ended. Mum returned to England. She joined the Civil Service and worked at Bletchley Park. She met my Dad, also Royal Navy during the war, who had left the service in which he had served as Lieutenant Commander. and started working for Distillers Company in London.

In 1956 we moved to Walmer, near Deal, in Kent. Mum and Dad had bought a Victorian country house hotel which Mum proceeded to run with a rod of iron. She was a stickler for detail and made sure that the linen dining room table cloths were spotlessly white, the brass and silver polished to perfection and the menus well organised. The food, good English cooking, was always excellent, piping hot and superbly presented. My grandmother also lived with us so the happy home was complete. Tragically Dad died very young. We were heartbroken but life has to go on. Mum, only 44, did a stalwart job continuing to run the hotel.

Mum was to become my close confidant and friend. Working in the charter game she was our agent. Together, with other guests, we were able to give her many happy holidays aboard and she loved them. “What I need now to make me feel fine,” she would chirp, “is a large and delicious glass of white wine.” She joined us for extended periods in the winter months and we spent warm and cozy times together. I was so glad to be able to repay some of what she had given me in earlier years.

Mum loved Nature and her flowers. I look upon her as one. Each morning her petals would open to embrace a new day. Now they have finally closed never to open again but she is together with those who left before. May she Rest In Peace.