At first Beverley was my mother’s friend. She was a generation older than me, but over the years she became every bit as much my friend as my mum’s. She was one of those rare people who, by their example, show you how to live your life.
She was such a classy lady and an amazing dresser. She was really professional in her work and was always loads of fun.
I remember her mostly when she must have been in her 40s and 50s and, by watching how she moved into middle age, I learned how I, too, might grow older. I could see the value of being independent, of not compromising and of still expecting to be able to get a lot out of life.
Beverley died much too young, of breast cancer, when she was only 57. Her ex-husband has now become one of my closest friends, and I often say that he is her legacy to me. She left me some jewellery, too, and I wear that to think of her. And whenever we pass the cemetery in Winchester, I always blow Beverley a kiss! She’s never forgotten, even 20 years on.
Is there someone you’d like to say thank you to? Write to us at magazine@observer.co.uk
