Sun-kissed East Ender fell for me at first sight

WE MET in January 1961 at the Ilford Palais. Alan’s tan and sun-bleached hair — the result of eight months in Cyprus with the RAF — stood out among the winter pallor of the Essex boys.

Of course I accepted his offer of an escort home. It was a bitterly cold evening, and as we waited at the bus stop Alan offered me his overcoat. So began our story — a family life that blossomed under the warmth and security of his all-encompassing coat.

We both knew instantly that this was special. We had only five days before he had to return to Cyprus, but even in that time we were talking of engagement and marriage. On the last evening we lingered outside my front door until he finally kissed my hand and said: ‘I’ve got to go now, but I’ll be back in August.’

When he returned, we were engaged within eight weeks, and saving for the deposit for the house we lived in for 40 years in Hullbridge. We married in May 1963.

Alan was a kind man of great integrity. Born in East London, he was the seventh of nine children and he knew tragedy. He lost his mother, to whom he was devoted, when he was 17. I always felt that when we met, four years later, he transferred that love and devotion to me, then to our two sons.

Very much a family man, Alan worked long hours in insurance, then in stockbroking, to give us a good and secure life.

We went on to have five grandchildren, and he was immensely proud of them all. In his final year, I remember him saying to me: ‘Maureen, if we wrote a list of everything we wanted from our sons, we couldn’t add anything to it, could we?’

Our retirement was spent in Norfolk. It wasn’t always idyllic. In 2008, he battled illness and was the victor. Then he nursed me with great patience through my own health problems. But early in 2017 he was diagnosed with cancer for a second time, and it couldn’t be beaten.

His last hours were peaceful. Towards the end he took my hand and kissed it and said — just as he had all those years before — ‘I have to go now’. We both knew this time he wouldn’t be back in August.