I first met Jinnie in the summer of 1979 at a press function in the basement of Lufthansa’s ticket office in Piccadilly, which was done up to look like a typical German bierkellar, complete with oompah band, foaming steins and quantities of unusual sausage. She was there as chauffeur for Marcia MacLeod, with whom she had shared a flat. I’d like to say it was love at first sight across a crowded room but I can’t honestly remember. What I do know is that I managed to wangle a lift in Jinnie’s battered white VW beetle to where I was then living in Hendon but I feared I had blown my chances by describing her health visiting job as “boring”. I blame the steins for that. Anyhow, a week or so later, Jinnie showed her forgiving nature by inviting me to a supper party at her flat and one thing led to another; I quickly learnt that health visiting was anything but boring. A year or so later I got down on bended knee – I was a fair bit fitter then – and proposed. The third time I did that, she accepted. We were married in Hampstead at the end of January 1981 and the reception was held in the old kitchens at Kenwood House. One of Jinnie’s oldest friends, John Clarke, who she had met when they were both at UCH, took me to one side at the reception and told me that if I ever divorced Jinnie or hurt her in any way, he would come round in person and deal with me; which I thought was unbecoming behaviour for a doctor and probably in breach of the Hippocratic Oath. Suffice it to say, John has never had to deal with me. Like all couples, Jinnie and I had our ups and downs but there were considerably more ups than downs. Jinnie loved going to Falcou, our old house in France, which on her first few visits was little more than a ruin. Thanks mainly to her drive and initiative the house gradually became more and more habitable, gaining such luxuries as a new roof, hot water, a flush loo, bath, shower and bidet, proper floors, walls, doors and ceilings. Our plans for next year included new windows and shutters. I will now have to do this on my own and I know it will be very difficult and very painful but I will do it. Jinnie was my rock, the calm and calming centre to my life. She was a wonderful wife, a lover and a friend. She was also exceptionally brave, helping me and others to cope with problems both physical and emotional while at the same time rarely if ever talking about her own much worse problems caused by diabetes. I was so proud of her and of her refusal to give in to a raft of difficulties that would break most people. I am missing her so much it hurts and I know I will continue to miss her dreadfully. She died much too young and we had so many plans for our future; things to do, trips to make, places to go, people to visit. The only small consolation for me is to know that Jinnie is no longer suffering and that her death was both quick and relatively peaceful. She was a beautiful, beautiful girl and I love her so much.