I first met Celia in 1979. She lived in a big house at the top of Eltham with her parents and her sister Margaret. Celia seemed to have an unlimited supply of cigarettes, and she smoked them constantly. Celia and Mags each had a big front room to entertain their guests; there was something distinctly Edwardian about the setup. Compared to the rest of us, who had to share everything in cramped council houses or in imposed ‘quality time’ with our parents, the isolation from older people was a rarity and a luxury. In all our time, I think I met her mum and dad just once, and that was just to say a cursory ‘hello’. Our shared passion was music, and there was so much new music to explore: Bowie, U2, and her discovery, The Tourists - where the up-and-coming Annie Lennox made her debut. Capital Radio had an annual ‘Tickets For Toys’ Christmas drive at their offices in central London. The demand was huge, so we went up and camped outside with our used toys in the queue for the night, rewarded with tickets to see The Police and Squeeze at Lewisham Odeon. Celia had been to the all-girls Eltham Hill School and moved to Eltham Green for Sixth Form. She seemed to be far better versed in social skills than I was. In a matter of weeks, she made new friends. We invited Celia and Anne, another new girl, to a long weekend in Reculver, near Herne Bay. Roaming the gentle hills, the holiday was the beginning of an – at first clandestine – and then a very passionate relationship with one of my best friends. Sometimes they bunked off together, motorbiking to Brighton or Hastings for the day. Hitchhiking on the way to Reculver, the driver had space for only one person – Celia. Obviously, that didn’t happen. The one word to describe Celia was ‘bubbly’. She wasn’t the least bit scared of the boys; other girls at the time were understandably cautious of us. I’d say that Celia was a vital bridge between us boys and the rest of the girls in the Sixth Form. She was always close to an unforced observation, a funny retort, and a big laugh. She made it safe for the other girls to hang out with us. Our weekend on the North Downs and Herne Bay was the beginning of many more memorable outings together, outings that pushed our belief in ourselves. On three motorbikes and one blue Allegro, often in inclement weather and dangerous roads, our group of friends drove to destinations in Wales, Cornwall and The Lake District, first living in tents in a field, and eventually graduating to rented holiday homes. Our mutual longing for freedom and independence was strong and real. Celia was an artist. She loved sculpture and had an immense talent. She was accepted to Durham University. Soon after the move north, however, she was upset, worried that she had made the wrong choice, that art school was not for her. Throughout life, however, she combined her sculpting skills with her passion for theatre and music, creating sculptures and masks for her favourite stage artists, giving her works to the artists as presents. Celia went on to forge a career in counselling. She was always a good listener as well as a good responder, so I'm sure she was an outstanding counsellor. We went our separate ways for many years, but were reunited during Celia’s fight against cancer. During remission, we enjoyed our friendship as if no time had passed at all. She spoke of Ryan as the great love of her life, and her greatest achievement. She was a constant joy in our lives, and we are devastated by her passing. May she rest in peace.