When I started to put together these thoughts, I’d been watching Michael Palin’s Sahara travel adventure on tv. He spends a few weeks with nomads on a desert camel train. Everyone has to play their part on this journey, helping each other in a harsh and challenging climate. Night times they rest at an oasis, a garden of a few thorn bushes for shelter. Bread is prepared over a log fire, the group huddle together drinking coffee. Palin teaches the nomads “bottoms up” provoking shrieks of laughter. Somehow the language barriers are transcended. Jokes, fun, bonding. The end purpose of the long journey is implicit - people have to work to put food on the table. What happens along the way is equally important as the end result. Julia and myself were at the same primary school – Merstow Green Church of England, Evesham. We ate the same food, sang the same hymns, did the same lessons, as we would years later. I remember her first few days as a new pupil. Us lads were playing football on the Merstow Green playground which is now the carpark in front of Waitrose. One morning a gleaming small car pulled up outside the school. We all stopped and stared. I can see them all now - Lenny lister, Cedric Phillips, Mick Greenhall. Mick picked up the football and stuck it under his arm, like, “Who’s this invading our territory? “ The car was very rounded, greyish blue, maybe an Austin. We watched as the doors opened, a lady and a young girl stepped out and strode confidently through the main entrance. Soon after, the new girl was introduced. This was Julia. She was smart, well turned out and looked intelligent, good looking - a ray of sunshine. During one lesson, Julia, myself, and another lad were performing a short drama sketch – I had to fall into a table, spill a bowl of cornflakes and say, “Oh me cornflakes.” Julia walked over to me grinning all over her face and commented “Your acting was dead good, Charl”. Did she mean it or was she having a laugh? Never really been quite sure. That’s why people wanted to get to know her because she was a character and she understood you. Even at that time, her company was a diversion, a refuge and this would be the case time and time again in years to come. I am thinking especially of the 1990’s, our golden decade. None of us collectively were that well off, but we were working hard, making our way in life, on our journey, supporting each other. A manic decade. Sunday lunches at May Colley’s, or “Ging” as she was known and also at Julia and Ian’s. The long summer months. Ian working all hours getting in the harvest whilst somehow finding time to do the bike hire. Julia, “Auntie Vee” on cream teas and garden lunches whilst somehow managing to serve up Sunday lunch inside for the family including our two, Jack and George who seemed to spend half their lives under Julia and Ian’s wing. Jack plotting with Alex to stay yet another night. A Summer holiday abroad was something other people did, something to read about in the Sunday papers. Julia was always anxious not to waste the unused quiche after serving garden lunches. So that became lunch for the family. Alex used to complain he didn’t like quiche. “But Alex”, his mother would say, “It’s not quiche, it’s flan!” I am thinking too of the Autumn Half Term holidays in Norfolk, Julia’s inspired choice. This became an annual fixture. The tips from the cream teas and lunches would be the holiday money. Back then Norfolk had been undiscovered by the Hampstead set. It was ours, our refuge, our garden, after the hard work during Summer. Long coastal walks, buckets and spades, toy shops, evenings huddled around the evening meal cooked indoors by Ging, Julia and Ange. One day we hired bikes leaving Ging with the four kids for the day. Julia was totally in her element: “Now this is what I call a holiday” said she as we set off. Julia had sorted me out a bike at the hire shop - it was a rubbish one with only three gears. But I got wise to her crafty plan later on as I pulled up at the pub a mile or so ahead of her, Ian and Angie. She must has reasoned that no matter what bike I had, I would still get to the pub first and therefore get the drinks in. Julia had a huge range of talents and interests. She started with secretarial at Worcester tech and then completed a part-time A-level English course. She had taste for adventure. She and her friend Celia belonged to the TA for a short spell. She worked as an au pair in Brussels. She and Angie drove to Greece and later even hitched hiked there. Julia was very numerate with an eye for detail, working on Roland’s invoices and later the farm accounts. She and Ian took the family on skiing holidays. Later, with the children growing up she found time for cycling, which became a big part of her life. She did Book Club, passing on books to Angie who says she never received a duff one. Played Bridge, dancing, ballet. Julia and Ange developed a mutual interest: days at the races: Worcester, Stratford, Warwick, Hereford. She also did Spanish classes. Her foreign language skills were tested whilst on holiday in Seville, Spain. Apparently, she went up to the bar and ordered two cans of coke and a packet of crisps. She came back with three beers and a portion of chips. She and Ian went on holiday to the Argentine. In Columbia Julia shared a ferry boat with a gang of drug traffickers. I don’t think the word “amigo” would have been much use then. More recently she became a successful entrepreneur, year after year organising and selling holidays, renting out the thatched cottage at Hidcote. An enlargement of the family opened an exciting new chapter in Julia and Ian’s life. Julia was hugely proud to be able to welcome daughter in law Chloe and son in law Dan into the fold. Naturally, she was devasted by the loss of her grand-daughter Mabel. Only a few months ago she and Ian went out to Australia to see Rosie and Dan, Oscar and Harry. She took great delight in helping to look after Martha, Alex and Chloe’s daughter She took to making clothes for the family and herself. She even made facemasks for us all. I have been the grateful recipient of two Christmas dickie bow ties. Sunday evenings after the service here at St Andrews she would come down to Badsey for an hour or two to chat with Angie. I would make tea. “Could I have just a bit more milk in mine, if you don’t mind, Charl.” I would put in less and less in time she came. Over the years, for Julia the oases became closer and the distance between each ever shorter. Gradually the oasis becomes a garden, ever more colourful, more abundant, ever richer. The sanctuary becomes the journey. These four walls became her true retreat. At Merstow Green during Lent we would sing “There is a Green Hill far away without a city wall.” The journey has come full circle. I want to close with the second verse of Andrew Marvell’s poem “The Garden” “Fair quiet, have we found thee here, And Innocence, our sister dear! Mistaken long, we sought you then In busy companies of men; Your sacred plants if here below, Only among the plants will grow, Society is all but rude, To this delicious solitude.”

Will miss her thoughtfulness at Book Club, her cheerful good nature at WI and the sight of her pedaling serenely by.

JULIA Daughter, Sister, Mother, Wife You have lived an adventurous life Ever busy, always committed Loyal and kind And incredibly gifted Your talents so plentiful For all to witness We watched you blossom And envied your fitness! Longlands Cottage, warm and cosy Shared with Ian, then Alex and Rosie Oscar, Martha and Harry too A beautiful family A credit to you You left us too soon. Projects unfinished Your light may have gone out But you are undiminished So we celebrate your life Daughter, Sister, Mother, Wife