I met Posy in 1969 when she came to work at the Farmers Weekly. We were
in the accounts department  which entailed balancing the books for each of the 7 farms in enormous green ledgers.  We also filed diary copy for the magazine each week.  It was a fun job, believe it or not, with lunches and early evenings in the Fleet Street pubs.   We both ended up in the same house in Courtfield Gardens in separate flats.  It cost 1 shilling and sixpence for the tube each journey and sometimes we were scratching around to find the fare.  One morning in March 1970 I mentioned to Posy that it was Cheltenham Gold Cup day, a beautiful day, so we phoned in sick and hitch hiked to Chelteham,  L'Escargot won I think. Posy's brother Crispin lived in South Africa and she convinced Ros and I
that emigrating to South Africa was a good plan.   So we did and left on the Edinburgh Castle on May 29th, 1970 arriving Cape Town a couple of weeks later.   Then the immigration officers sent us to Durban on a train and then in the Butterworth Hotel. The sun was shining so we all got on the bus the next day to go to the beach, a green bus, and were promptly ejected by the Africans and told to catch a white bus.  It was a shock to the system coming from cosmopolitan London. A few days later the immigration people turned up at the hotel and in no
uncertain terms told us to get a job.    We did and moved into a flat down on the seafront (it sounds good but it was very small,  very hot and there were lots of cockroaches) We had many happy times and met lots of people through Crispin. We did
out first game reserve at Hluhluwe Umfolozi and that is probably what started Posy's love of Africa. After a while Posy moved to Cape Town, Ros to Southern Rhodesia and I
stayed in Durban. We have all remained firm friends and tried to meet when we can.   Our
last African trip was to Fez in Morocco in 2010, the fortieth anniversary.    Writing this makes me very sad that there will be no more meet ups.  I am  just thankful to have known Posy and will hold on to all the happy memories.   When we lose those we love they live on in our hearts.

Marg Coles