FIONA 1972


It's 1972. I am 24. Architecture students have to do a year of actually working in an architect's office in the middle of their course – the 'Year Out'. I worked for Derek Sharp Associates in Highbury, London. It was a small firm, six people and Derek himself, on the first floor of a Georgian terraced house. This was the height of a building boom and it had won various awards in the previous decade for small scale housing developments and synagogues, but the main designer of these had left, the awards had dried up, and in 1973 the boom collapsed. I was doing mainly small house extensions, but it was good experience.

She joined in May – long blond hair and eyes of blue, already qualified and studying part time at Thames Polytechnic. She had been living with her employer Timothy Cochrane (he had had her over a drawing board in his office!) but the years came and went and on Leap Year's Day, February 29th 1972, she took him out for a meal and in accordance with the tradition she asked him to marry her. He said no. So she dumped him, moved out to a furnished flat in West Hampstead, and got a job at Derek Sharp.

I had never had a girlfriend, but my acne was somewhat improved, and I thought “This is my only chance” so I asked her out – to an Ossibisa concert at the Rainbow Theatre Finsbury Park. This was a disaster, we walked out after the first half.  I don't think I touched her for quite a long time, but one Saturday we went to Alexandra Palace – perhaps there was some event there. It is situated on the heights above Hampstead, with extensive views southwards over London to the North Downs. We stood on the terrace looking at the view, and I came up behind her and lightly held her by the waist. She turned, we embraced against the parapet and French kissed enthusiastically. My FIRST KISS, at age 24. That spot is sacred. We went back to my flat . . . .

She took pleasure in parading me in front of Timothy, who looked devastated and begged her to come back to him – I felt guilty about that, but I paid for it in my turn. I lived in Wood Green which was difficult to get to from West Hampstead, so she bought a Morris Minor convertible to make us seeing each other much easier. One weekend she was away visiting her parents in Bourne End, so I was just slobbing round my flat when she arrived at about 11am on Saturday and took me back to meet them. - fully a 45 minute drive. So I stayed (in the spare room of course), and was woken up on Sunday by Dana the Great Dane licking my face, urged on by Fiona. The Internet tells me that Great Dane's have a short life span – 5 to 7 years, so she is long dead, but I remember her.


This is the high point of my life.


Fiona died in 2019

Back