When we were working for the Chief of the Air Staff (CAS), (Sir Michael Beetham), in MoD, Whitehall, (Vanessa was there around 1980-81-82) we thought we were the bees knees.  Not only were we working for the most senior RAF Officer but we had been selected to do VIP duties in order to work for him and his team.  Our office was a glorified typing pool where we took it in turns to take dictation.  Whenever it was Vanessa’s turn to go and take dictation she would stand up, walk towards the door, take a long look at herself in the full length mirror, smooth down her outfit and tidy up her hair.  You could mistake this for vanity but in fact she simply always wanted to look her best.  She was so admired by the staff we worked for at MoD; she was a safe pair of hands because she was so good at her job.  She always did things to the very best of her abilities.
 
It won’t come as any surprise to you that she loved to flirt!  She was a little minx in mixed company.  We’d always get invited to the social events happening at work – we were star attractions! – seen as the pretty young things from the 6thFloor.  At these events we had the chance to get to know the people we worked closely with on a more social level.  Nothing ever came of having too much to drink but we certainly had such a good laugh talking about what had happened.
 
There was the time when Vanessa and I were on holiday in Venice and we’d taken a coach trip to Florence.  We stopped off at various points en route and on the final one we’d gone off to get an ice cream.  We’d misheard the timings so there we were sitting on a wall eating our ice creams with not a care in the world admiring the view when we caught sight of our irate coach driver stomping over to us because we’d kept the other passengers waiting about 20 minutes.  When we got back on the coach we apologised but in the same breath we couldn’t stop giggling which must have infuriated the other passengers even more.
 
Vanessa, after leaving the WRAF Hostel in Notting Hill Gate went on to share a flat with Caroline Ramsay, who was one of my badminton club friends.  The final flat they shared together was Clonmell Road, Parsons Green where Gary became affectionately known as “The Lodger” because he was ‘round there most of the time!
 
Vanessa and I were lucky because Gary and Peter got on very well and, in fact, they still meet up.  One year before we had children we decided to go on holiday together in Nice and we took the TGV train to get there.  This was the à la mode method of transport to get to the South of France (and because Gary raved on about it being so fast!)  When we used to go out for dinner in the evenings one of the restaurants we frequented the most (because it was cheap and cheerful!) would always ask us if we wanted water followed by “Gaz or non gaz” (If you haven’t guessed the waiter was just asking us if we wanted sparkling or still water!).  For a long time it was an in-joke when we used to visit Gary and Vanessa to mention “Gaz or non gaz” in conversation which would trigger reminiscences of that holiday.