
Maureen has a phenomenal joie de vivre and was forever forging plans and creating fun. We shared stories of our lives and discussed our friends and problems.

We enjoyed lunches and dinners, took more cream teas, went to the theatre, cinema and ballet. She would never have contacted me and I’d have continued to call the wrong number.

If I hadn’t gone over there, I don’t know whether we’d have met again. When I pulled out the postcard, it transpired that she’d written her phone number incorrectly. Maureen answered the door looking anguished she thought I had led her on and stood her up. Yet when I eventually left work, something compelled me to go anyway. I only carried on by forcing myself to act as if I was as good as anyone else.’ John gave me confidence and when he died that confidence went. We said we’d meet again but I thought we probably wouldn’t, as I had no confidence. Maureen says: ‘Afterwards I berated myself, “What must she think of me? I just gave her my whole life story”. Maureen was clearly deep in grief and I thought her very charming but also very sad.

They had met at Ealing Studios when she was an 18-year-old secretary there, and travelled the world living on film sets. He had been a famous film editor, working on films including Zulu, Where Eagles Dare and Alfred Hitchcock’s Frenzy. In some ways it wasn’t an easy first meeting, as Maureen sobbed repeatedly when talking about her husband, John. I didn’t stop talking as I was so nervous, but she was lovely - so kind and unassuming. ‘But then in she walked wearing this pretty summer dress and her hair down, she looked so sweet and young. ‘I thought she would take one look at me and flee, or that we wouldn’t get on. ‘I was incredibly nervous,’ recalls Maureen. Only now do I realise how lucky it was we were on the same wavelength. I think it was love at first sight - or maybe first speaking. Laura said she wrote the article, asking for a 'new Gran', because she missed the company of old people
