"Roger’s reputation went before him. So by the time I first chatted to him in 2002 I had a lot of preconceived ideas and most of these he lived up to on our first encounter.

"As a child growing up feral in the west of Ireland, it was always a culture shock to return to my grandparents' house in Hastings. My grandfather would appear in a pinstripe suit for a formal breakfast before heading off to work in the law offices. A Cambridge graduate, he loved history and the law. Our suppers together were often spent with him telling me which museums I should visit on my next Euro rail trip, instead of as he put it, bumming around aimlessly. When my grandfather wasn’t working, as a frustrated lawyer, he could be found in his navy Guernsey jumper, tinkering on his boat. He loved sailing to the Channel Islands with my own father, when he was a boy. If you can sail there, you can sail anywhere, he’d say. In short, I was used to people like Roger.

"Roger wasn’t interested in my children when he’d bump into me. It was enough for him that his dear Caroline would keep him up to date about their love of her shortbread from her Wednesday WI stall in St Peter's Hall. We bought her baking in abundance for our morning story times, which used to go on for hours thanks to the sustenance from Caroline's baking. He would smile and make some very dry remark each time he’d see the children. Then one day, out of the blue, he called me and generously offered to fly us all back to Ireland on his plane. “With respect Roger, I only fly with professional pilots" was my retort. This was the beginning of many exchanges of banter between us.

"His loving companion Caroline was much more obliging with his love of flying. I once recommended that they go to Ireland’s famous Ballymaloe House in Co Cork, renowned for its kitchen garden and local food. I suggested that Caroline would love the baking and the cookery school there. They flew there a few weeks later. “How was it”, I asked Caroline on their return. "Oh Bella, the BREAD was out of this world”. "Job done," said Roger.

"Fifteen years ago, emails took over at work. In our home the 'Blackberry' became known as the 'Gooseberry'. So it was with interest that I opened a hand written note from the Senior Partner at Mourants where my husband spent his working days. “Dear Bella, it has not gone unnoticed that you are bringing up three little children while your husband works such long hours in the office. Your support is much appreciated” wrote Roger. My reaction was one of absolute gratitude that he had noticed the situation these long hours had meant for us at home. I will, forever, be grateful to him for acknowledging that and not taking my role for granted.

"After that, I knew that I was not just one of his partner's wives and our friendship began. One day, I was reading my book on the slipway at the Cup and Saucer while the children played on the shore. Roger, came along for his tonic swim. He sat down beside me and was interested in my book; ‘The Masogonist' by Dans Piers Morgan. I was struggling with the vocabulary; a 70’s intellectual slang. For some fun, I suggested to Roger that I test his vocabulary. Book, in one hand and dictionary on my phone, in the other; I went through word after word that I did not know the meaning of. Ten out of ten each time for Roger.

"On that particular day, deep in the game, we became aware of “Help”, “Help”. We ignored this a few times and then I looked at Roger and said “You should never ignore a cry for help. He was very reluctant to move, so I stood up and very clearly saw a kayak off the Cup and Saucer and from there a man was shouting in distress for help.

"I quickly took in the distance between us and the kayak and made a snap decision . "Quick Roger," I said, "we need to steal a boat." “I’ve never stolen anything in my life” said Roger. "Now’s your chance," I said and insisted he help me carry one of the small boats at the top of the slip to the waters edge. "Now, get in, I need your best strokes!" I said firmly.

"Half way out to the kayak, we met our friend Jenny swimming to the rescue. "Go back Jen and call emergency services," I said. She is a doctor and knew exactly what I meant. Just, as we arrived at the kayak we saw a small child stop struggling in the water and start to float away. The father was beside himself. Somehow, we all got the boy back into the boat shivering and shaking all over. I looked at Roger, looking warm and very irritated with the father. Not now, I said preempting a right rollicking from occurring. "TAKE YOUR TOP OFF, I need to keep the child warm," I said with urgency. “I’ve never taken my clothes off for anyone” he retorted. "Now’s your chance!" I persisted. For the second time in 10 minutes. And, so it was that Roger saved the life of that child. Months later, I said to him, "Roger, well done, that was something wasn’t it?" "Yes," he said with a musing look, "yes it was".

"Roger left the law and went into politics. On the night he was first voted in as Deputy I went searching for him after the result was announced and found him skulking around the corridors of La Hougette school. He wanted absolutely no fuss but I did manage to give him a celebratory hug. "You’ll need a lot of hugs to do this job well Roger," I said. "You are always so dramatic Bella," he said with sceptical smile. Some time later, he told me I hadn’t been wrong.

"When, he properly retired, I was delighted that he found time to enjoy carpentry. I suggested he become Patron to the new Men's Shed charity, which was less than a mile from his home. With he usual modesty, he said, he would consider it.

"After his beloved Caroline died, Roger was devastated. One day, months later, I had a deja vu. I was walking up Smith Street and Roger was walking down it. Gone was the pinstripe and lofty persona that I would have bumped into in the same spot years ago. "How are you doing, Roger?" I asked gently. "To be honest with you, Bella, I’m really struggling," he said with tears in his eyes. "Let’s meet up for a cuppa," I said. "I’d like that very much," he said.

"Life for me is so busy these days and I kept meaning to invite him over for that cuppa but time passed as it does so quickly. However, few months later, he arrived, out of the blue, at my front door. He shook hands with my son, born in that 2002, just after we had first met. “What a fine young man”, he said and I was reminded again of his generosity with my sons school. I need to get away somewhere, he continued. We sat down and planned another great place for him to stay in Ireland. That was the last time I saw him.

"I am told his illness was swift and severe and I am just so sad now to hear of his passing without an opportunity to say goodbye. However, after a couple of weeks in South Arica, where again I could stop, read and reflect, I am consoled that, now, Roger is once again with Caroline and they will rest in peace together.

"Roger will always hold a special place in my heart and my last encounter with him will reinforce in my mind that this intelligent, generous, respectful, witty and very very discerning man demonstrated a gentle fragility that is common to us all at some point, on this earth.

"This is a reminder to me that under all our outward personas we are humans, who from time to time, just needs a good old hug."

Bella Farrell