So Ainsley, now I know I haven't been getting any reply when I've been calling your landline or your mobile for weeks, why I didn't even get your answering-machine....

I was your first lover, back in your Westridge Road and my Oxford Ave days. You were young, beautiful and very cool. I was a few years older than you, a fiercy-feminist single-parent with two young children. You took me to see The Kinks, Chuck Berry and many other of The Greats. Later I broke your heart, but you were generous and dignified, never uttering a word of reproach. We stayed friends and met up occasionally, even though I moved away from Southampton decades ago. I still have the photograph you sent me of Kier just after he was born and I remember how proud you were of him and how much he has always meant to you.

The last time I saw you was in November, 2017, just before your birthday. We sat and reminisced for hours. You reminded me that I'd made you learn how to change nappies. I laughed and apologised, but you said it had been good for you....

Today I remember you roaring up outside my flat on your bike; us sitting in the sun in the back garden at Westridge Road; the patterns of your hand-made shirts that you were so proud of; the music we listened to; the friends we shared; the bunk-beds you organised for my children; the cat called Matilda that came along with them....

We had our seasons in the sun and, for me, you will never die....