Sarah. You’d think, wouldn’t you, that Sarah and I have been bosom pals as cousins for all our lives? Nothing could be further from the truth. I must have been about 3 or 4 before I even knew I had a Cousin Sarah, and I’m almost sure a picture sent to Gran from Malta, at 7, St. Lukes Road, shown to me on one of our rare visits to Bath, would be my first awareness of her. A trip up from Wimborne to Bath at 30 miles an hour in an Austin 7 was a major excursion back in the days of motoring. A successful trip would be having only one puncture on the way or overheating and needing more water for the radiator only on the uphill sections, of which there are many around Warminster. But what did a picture of a cousin mean to a 3-year-old? Jean and Cyril lived on Malta, so it would be some years yet before Sarah and I would meet. And I know when that would be. We again traveled to Bath to meet Jean, Cyril and Sarah, probably before Helen’s arrival (?), when they came back from Malta. I’m almost sure they had a hotel near the Toll bridge at Batheastern, until Jean and Cyril found a house. Thereafter, we’d see the Bath Sharpes on Boxing Day visits, often with Audrey and Bill, either in Wimborne or Bath. As children we were much more focused on Aunts and Uncles than each other as cousins, since Tim and I were boys, and Sarah and Helen girls. Sarah, I now know, really loved my Mum. There was a real bond between them, since Mum could see Sarah was withdrawn as a child and got her to feel more confident in herself. So that was the school years, followed by university for me and leaving home and my first marriage in Manchester which took me off the family scene for many years. So it was well after Sarah had met Paul that we began to have any proper contact. A pint in a pub when ‘passing’ Bath on the way to Manchester. Those were Sarah’s ‘white sweater days’ – Cyril’s winter commando sweater. And Tom will surely confirm that I had little contact with you all in all the time he grew up. There then followed the funeral years. Auntie Molly, (Phil’s wife), Uncle Ralph, (my Dad), then my Mum, Auntie Eileen, Uncle Phil, Uncle Cyril and Auntie Audrey, and my brother, Tim, all died within a decade or two, leaving Uncle Bill and Sarah’s Mum Jean of that generation. This left Sarah and Paul with the arrangements when Bill fell ill and died, since I was in Denmark. Sarah showed what she was made of when nursing Bill, a lovely, funny man when he was good, but bl... difficult when he was ill. And it’s this period when Sarah, Paul and I finally, ‘through needs must’, began to have more time together. Visits to Bath to stay with Sarah and Paul, either when I was on business trips to the UK, or with Berith and Kathrine on holiday, followed too. There was a special snuggle spot for Kathrine under Sarah’s wing…. with Harry Potter, Tolkien, Ladybird and children’s book collection and all. Paul would make tea and platefuls of food, allowing Sarah and I to talk through the night, swapping memories of grandparents, childhood, cousins, aunts and uncles, and all that life had brought us. We had so much to fill in for each other, and we weren’t finished! But at least we did get the chance so much later in life. Sarah was so like Gran, Honour Sharpe, and Auntie Audrey. Saints and Angels, all 3. Never a thought for themselves, always others first. Meek? No. Slings and arrows they could take – if launched against themselves, -- but heaven help any that launched them against their friends or family. I shall miss you so much, Sarah, but treasure all that I have of you. Once Jean died, I was hoping Sarah would write that book which was bubbling in her (I don’t know what it was about), get out more, travel, visit us in Denmark, and above all else, watch Tilly and Flo blossom. I know how much she will be missed by Tom, Jess, Tilly and Flo, and Helen and family too. In short, I’m trying to say that I only knew Sarah as ‘Sarah and Paul’, though I do know all about the ‘block off which she was chipped’. So if you younger folk need family history, then now’s the time! I know how it is to think, ‘I should have asked Dad, Cyril, Audrey, about so and so and such and such’. Paul, you were everything Sarah ever wanted. And that was when she was being as selfish as she could muster! I’m gutted I can’t be with you today, and Berith, Kathrine, Oliver, Jonas and I have you all in our thoughts. All our Love. We’ll meet again….. Nick. XXXXX