I first met Paula 25 years ago and I count her as one of my closest women friends. I will miss her terribly as she leaves a uniquely shaped hole that no-one else can ever quite fill. I have so many memories of Paula that it's hard to choose but I have settled on three that illustrate her qualities -- among many others -- of spontaneous warmth, supportiveness, and generosity.

Spontaneous warmth: We met as early-morning swimmers at Okehampton swimming pool: the old scruffy one, not today's handsome leisure centre. It was usually just us in the pool and, for several months, we swam silently up and down, doing our laps, Paula with her effortless, technically precise crawl and me with my effective but very messy breaststroke. Afterwards, we would shower side-by-side, stark naked, in the communal showers. We'd nod goodbye and go our separate ways. So British. Eventually, one of us -- I don't remember who -- suddenly turned to the other and started the introductions. Chatting as we dressed we discovered our mutual interest in the environment, animals, and much else. "You MUST come over for coffee. TODAY" said Paula, and gave me directions to Locks Park Farm. I turned up and stayed till nearly midnight, both of us talking non-stop, which didn't stop Paula whipping up a lunch, tea, and dinner, all utterly delicious. Robert popped in and out, sometimes joining the conversation, sometimes returning to the vegetable garden, or a hedge in need of attention. The enthusiasm of that first meeting persisted, even though I moved back to the United States within a year and spent the next 20+ years there. We wrote, I visited, Paula and Robert joined in my "big birthday" celebrations at the Duke of York in Iddesleigh; one year Paula, Robert and a young Ollie visited me in Washington, DC. Good friends just pick up where they left off and time and distance can be overcome.

Supportiveness: The story I told at Paula's celebration of life was of Paula encouraging me (rather than telling me not to be so foolish) to join her and Robert on a long walk/scramble over the rocks at Hartland Quay, even though my right arm was in a cast from wrist to shoulder, with a bend at the elbow that kept the arm in a permanent semi-elevated right-angle, like something out of "The Mummy." With some stabilising help now and then, all went well and I'm sure my recovery was hastened by the fresh air and sense of freedom. But more important than broken arms was my long and difficult courtship, an idyllically happy marriage, then a catastrophically silly divorce, through all of which Paula provided counsel and unfailing kindness. This was support of the most precious and irreplaceable kind.

Generosity: Paula's generosity of spirit was perhaps her greatest quality and her family and friends all know how much that kind and positive energy sustained us. But material generosity also has its place and I will not forget being overwhelmingly surprised and thrilled when, as a belated birthday present in 2005, Paula wrote me that a "package is on its way" to America. Inside was a pair of exquisite Chinese silks, brought back by Paula's great-grandfather who had worked there in the 19th century. Paula knew that I and my by-then husband had finally agreed to get married in the course of a month-long, arduous but extraordinary self-guided trip through China in 1998. Great-grandfather's silks, Paula wrote, had been "kept with a bundle of letters to his sister in London – they were in amongst one in which he was describing the heat and how the children and new baby (my grandmother and her sister and brother) were better for having spent time in the cooler hills while he had been away in Japan; many descriptions also about the countryside, people, his work and the family. They have always been earmarked for you but have been away at my cousin who is writing a family history of his paternal grandfather (my maternal great) and his wife Lizzie . . ." I believe I met that cousin at the Celebration, which makes a perfect coda to this story. Who else but Paula would have given away such a treasure? But those silks, now magnificently framed for their protection, hang on my living room wall, in pride of place over the mantelpiece, where they will be a constant reminder of my dear, supportive, and generous friend.