Mrs B

Yesterday I lost one of my best friends to cancer.

She was the first designer I ever worked with when I left college over 25 years ago, and she taught me most of what I know about design and all that I know about professionalism and getting the job done. She was ultimately stylish, talented, funny, enthusiastic and loyal and I owe her so much.

In recent years we discovered a shared interest in gardening, and my favourite memory of her will be sitting on her roof terrace with a glass of wine and an amazing view of south London, whilst we dissect the contents of Grazia and she brings me up to date with the goings on on Corrie.

With her flamingos, coloured lights and retro bits and pieces, she adored pottering about tweaking this and that, whilst Mr B pottered in the garage downstairs.

Her terrace was filled with pots overflowing with plants, snippets of which she had gleaned from her parents garden, her travels and her friends, and although she may not have known what all of them were she managed to get them all to grow prolifically. Her terrace was a haven of calm and positivity with her at the centre, and a lovely warm welcome (and a delicious meal) was always guaranteed.

As one Mrs B to another, I miss you Mrs B, I wish I'd seen you more, said more and done more, and I wish I'd seen you waltz.