I love this photo of Jean. The classic pose, hands poised on the arms of her magnetic glasses, sincerity and humour in her eyes. She had played at my wedding, we’d argued over the tempo of La Vie en Rose, she won of course. As my Godmother she was a constant joy in my life. She was funny, kind, interested, supportive, she could be stern and she had the best shout of laughter I've ever heard.

She arrived, every year, around Christmas eve with a gift, a smile and much gusto… what she gave was always curious and therefore precious. She tried her best to teach me piano, I was dreadful, she was patient. In my 20s she spent a lot of time living in St Johns’ Lane, we had countless dinners with a little too much red wine. She thought my future husband looked Spanish and sounded like a rapper, this still makes us laugh (he is London born and bred, half-Irish and burns easily).

When I took my children to see her in Devises they were as fascinated by Jean’s collection of things as I had been when I was a child, she gave them a box that I remembered from childhood. It makes me happy that they have something from her.

I can hear the sound of her voice now, I will never forget her, and when I think of her, the memories will always bring a smile.