I remember going to town together wheeling Sue’s brother Chris in his pushchair; I was very impressed with her important child care role! We joined the St John’s Ambulance Brigade and Monday evenings were spent bandaging, practising emergency procedures and feeling very important in our uniforms and white starched hats. We moved on to comprehensive school together at 13.

In our mid teens we went to Victor Sylvester’s Dancing School where, under the pretext of learning the waltz, quickstep and foxtrot, we eyed up the talent.  There were numerous forays into the ladies’ room to powder our noses and discuss partners! Aged 17 we had our first independent holiday together at Bournemouth where we spent the week sunbathing to acquire that all-important tan.  I think it was around this time that Sue’s hair changed colour: blondes have more fun! She wore an impressive back combed beehive that increased her height significantly and is preserved for posterity in her wedding photos.

Sue left school after O levels and we met on a weekly basis when she would come to my house to watch Coronation Street and regale me with tales from the world of work (I was still in the sixth form). Very soon, Terry was on the scene and by her early twenties Sue was married with two small children, Sarah and Claire: a very responsible role compared to my student life.  I was delighted to be asked to be Sarah’s Godmother and over the years we stayed in touch as our families grew.

Sue was able to forge her career as the girls grew older and as part of her work for EMEB she achieved local fame as a broadcaster on home economics.  As I know from my teaching colleagues, she was highly respected in her liaison work with schools.  More recently Sue developed her creative writing career and became a magistrate.  Not bad for an alleged 11 plus failure!

Our children always used to say Christmas began when Sue and Terry visited bringing presents that were always so tasteful, and carefully chosen.  They still remember Sue’s luscious mince pies – a stark contrast to my shop-bought efforts. They appreciated Sue’s bubbly conversation, her creativity, her empathy and interest in them – and her glamour.

Archie and I enjoyed coming up to Sue and Terry’s and entertaining them in our home.  As really good friends do, we have always picked up where we left off.  We have been keen to hear about the grandchildren who have brought them such joy.  It has been lovely being involved in Laver family occasions: their 40th wedding anniversary christenings, parties, and we really appreciated the effort Sue made to come to our daughter’s wedding when she was very unwell two years ago.

I was so aware in recent months of the enormous effort that Sue, backed as always by Terry, made in visiting or entertaining us.  It is a great comfort that even when we saw her a week before she died she was still gaining some enjoyment from life; relishing my cooking (or at least putting on a good show of doing so!), reading the Times, listening to Radio Four, continuing to be a lively conversationalist and of course appreciating her time with Terry, who enabled all this to happen.  If ever a union was made in heaven it was Sue and Terry’s; they really were soul mates to the end.

There is so much to celebrate in Sue’s life and I know her essence will live on through her children and grandchildren who so enriched her life.

Rona Taylor

A Poem for Sue

Just Knowing

Just knowing that you’re there for me,
Just knowing that you’re there to share the simple joys of life,
Walking hand in hand on a windswept moor;
    A glass of wine on a summer’s day

You’ll be there for me; you’ll care for me,
    When I’m ill or in despair

You’ll be there for me; you’ll understand me,
    When I might lose my way

Just knowing that you’re there for me,
Just knowing that you’ll share with me the rest of our lives
Just knowing that you’ll forgive me
    When the stress of life boils over,

But soon forgotten, because you’ll laugh and joke with me,
You’ll be there for me, you’ll care for me,
    When  I’m sad and in despair,

You’ll be there for me, you’ll care for me
    When I can’t see the way,

So just knowing that you’re there,
    Just knowing that you care,
    Just knowing.