The first time I met Heather—or rather, the first time I heard Heather—was at a horse show in Martineau Lane, Fairlight. As I parked, I heard a firm voice declare, "If you don't put a hat on immediately, you can get off that horse and leave!" I remember thinking, Who on earth is that?—and I was utterly terrified.

Heather did not suffer fools gladly, but she was always willing to make a fool of herself often for charity. From horseless gymkhanas to dressing up in tutus, she brought joy,  laughter and a touch of madness wherever she went. She had a heart of gold and played an integral role in my both my daughter's - (Molly and Nicole) childhood, along with Plum who taught them so much - taking them to shows , clear rounds and dressage giving them so much confidence and even more fun.  I still remember Bexhill Horse Show, when Molly and Nicole, dressed up in their show jackets and jods, entered the Family Pony class with Heather’s beloved Chancer. It was also Heather’s birthday—I remember the cake! Can you imagine Heather’s reaction when Chancer won? It was a truly special day, and one of so many.
Heather understood what it was like not to have your own pony, so she simply shared hers. She was generous, hilarious, and always welcoming—never without a cup of tea and a biscuit (or cake!). She was truly one in a million—thankfully so, as I don’t think Three Oaks, East Sussex, or even the UK could have handled more than one Heather!
I feel incredibly honoured and privileged to have been her friend. I miss Plum dearly too, but the memories we shared will always remain. Heather would probably tell me to stop being so sentimental, but underneath it all I think she  was deeply sentimental herself.
At her funeral, the sheer number of people who came was a testament to how many lives she touched. And yet, no matter how many people she knew, she always made you feel as if she had all the time in the world for you. That time was taken away far too soon.
Her poem mentioned the holes in her jumpers, and I know she would have been proud that I turned up to her funeral with a huge hole in my shirt—something I didn’t even realise until I got home. My mum took one look at me and said, "You didn’t go like that, did you?" I can just imagine Heather laughing at that.
My heartfelt condolences go out to Robert, Boyd, and Pippa.