Cynthia is the last living link with my youth. She was there throughout, always a canny and compassionate commentator, a rapier observer, and a reliable mentor helping me navigate my restless childhood. She summed it up with her distinctive laugh.: “When Lisa came into a room, all the Christmas cards blew over.”.
Whether it was deep and meaningful chats beside the chlorine drenched Fenham public swimming pool, or dressed up for our “dinner party training” in polite conversation with Andrew and James (did Eb and Dad really wear dinner jackets?), Cynthia’s sharp intellect and pithy humour were my saviour
Recent visits to Riding Mill have been too infrequent, but Cynthia did visit us in Nepal. Between gusts and sometimes gales of laughter our meetings recalled past events, re-examined shared crises, celebrated family foibles, and analysed the VG relationships binding our interwoven lives of over 70 years.
Last year, Cynthia said with her usual irreverent insight: “You just hope you’ll wake up and you won’t be there.” Her amazing wit, wisdom, kindness and cleverness will be greatly missed – her long life has touched so very many, and I am grateful to have been amongst them.