Just 50, I think. That’s no age. Yesterday we lost a truly rimportant person, someone who bought a hell of a lot of really, really bad behaviour to university life. Christ we had so much fun. She was the first girl to invite me up to her room at Uni, where we demolished a bottle of Baileys and woke up fully clothed with dribble all over our cheeks. Them were the Days, and I really don’t think I’ve ever really enjoyed Baileys since.
Poor Girl, leaves behind a husband with Furry Ears and two kids; twins, who said good-night to Mummy and will never be able to again. It’s so wretchedly cruel, so unimaginable, so quick. For those of us who don’t pray we will think a great deal about you Foxy, and realise how bloody lucky we all were to bump into you in Ken’s Bar.
As is often the way, I hadn’t been in proper touch for a few years, lives drift like tectonic plates except faster, once they start drifting in opposite directions sometimes its hard to bring them back. But I have the enormously fun battle scars to prove that I once was in the gang. The group of 10 or 12 who wrecked it like mentalists for 3 years, non stop, there was always someone to have a pint or a smoke with, and if it was with Foxy, then you both knew it was for the long haul.
So God Bless you Mrs Fox, You really are one of the truly great ones, and you certainly have gone far too soon. Love to your Kids and R. Fur Ears, I can’t imagine how it will be possible to fill the Foxy shaped gap in their lives, you brought so much to the party. I’m so sorry you are gone, but never forgotten, and maybe no definitely i’ll raise a glass of Baileys in your honour!