Being five-and-a-half years older than my sister, my memories of her go back further than those of anyone else. I remember when she was born – possibly to be called Hilary but then Hazel Joy (Joy, I think, after the evacuee posted to Mum’s in the war). Mum always said that Hazel’s birth was the one time in her life she got everything right: home for Easter, a baby before April 5th so a tax rebate for Dad, and a girl for me. I won’t upset Gordon by saying what my sadistic five-year old self had planned to do had it been a boy! Toys, especially dolls, were scarce in the early fifties, so Hazel was my ‘living doll’. As she became a little older, we played many games together – libraries (every book we owned laid out on the dining table and then date-stamped with one of those old printing sets), prizegivings (I can’t remember why) involving Mum’s best china from the sideboard (filled with haricot beans – don’t ask!) and lined up on the table. Not surprisingly a lot got chipped or broken – a pity, as I looked up the value of some of the pieces after Mum died (quite reasonable if ‘as new’ but worthless in the state we left them). Still, much fun, and in those days Hazel would do anything I asked! I was always going to be a teacher and Hazel a ‘nurse in the baby hospital’, until at three she learnt the word ‘midwife’ and told everybody that. I taught her, aged four, to write the alphabet and her name, and still have it somewhere. When she was three we pleaded with Mum to let Hazel share the double bed – fine then but a decision I (and she) came to regret in later years, especially when she broke her arm and I was hit with the plaster every time she turned over. We drew an imaginary line down the middle of the bed and many squabbles ensued over the coming years! I draw a real line down the middle of the shared dressing-table – mine was the clean, organised side, hers the dusty messy part and woe betide if she encroached! She became the classic annoying sister, appearing at embarrassing moments in the front room when David and I first started going together. Years later she was my bridesmaid. After that different lifestyles and living many miles apart meant we saw less of each other, until she moved to Uffington and my daughter Beth was born. We had many happy visits to her, David enjoying long runs around the lovely countryside while Hazel and I talked, and then we all enjoyed Hazel’s legendary feasts afterwards. Hazel and I were always very different. In fact when my tissue type was found to be compatible with hers for her first transplant, some family members joked that this was the first thing we had had in common for years! Recently our lives have had more in common again, grandchildren especially. Hazel was always on the end of the phone, offering advice and funny anecdotes about the children. How I shall miss that. Please Hannah, keep in touch so I don’t lose all of you as well as Hazel.