Ruth was the closest friend I ever had.  We met as drama and ‘Laban Movement and Dance’ students at teacher training college in Coventry over sixty four years ago. We remained friends until the day of her death. She was an outstanding drama student subsequently we enjoyed many impromptu performances. Until she arrived at college she had never thought much about her clothes but on her first term she briefly reflected on her appearance and spent most of her grant on an expensive  and fashionable dark brown corduroy pinafore dress with a brick red jersey to wear underneath. She was pretty broke but managed to pay her travel and theatre ticket with our group to see Measure for Measure at the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre in Stratord. A few of us suggested a money making idea which she might welcome, which she did.  We bet her five shillings each that she would not dare to go to the theatre in her posh outfit matched with her clumpy hiking boots. Of course she did!  Sadly I was the only one who honoured the bet.

Ruth followed her course in Coventry with another year at Rose Bruford’s Drama College.  I would dearly have loved to have gone there too but my father died during my college years and consequent circumstances proved too difficult.

Ruth could not cope with the mundane and the responsibility of looking after the necessary trappings with which we are lumbered when we shop or go for a walk.  However her luck was unbelievable on many occasions. During the times when we met up or went on holiday together Ruth left her specs on a pebble beach when we attended Beyond the Border Festival in Cardiff.  She remembered the following day so we half heartedly returned and found them.  We spent several days in Paris where true to character Ruth left her duffle bag with passport, traveller’s cheques, purse and travel documents on the floor in a very busy chain store and well you guessed it, it was still exactly where she left it. Her mind was always on a higher plane, even when I travelled to meet her in London we walked from the station and stood still talking for half hour before I suggested we actually went somewhere and maybe have a cup of coffee.

Living on this higher plane did result in Ruth, especially in later years when her health restricted her physical activities, spending even more time than previously, reading or watching in-depth television programmes which she enjoyed sharing discussions over. We all benefited.

I never actually visited Ruth when she was still living in her parents’ home in Bimport. This was because her father had banned me from the house after he read a letter which I had written to her.  Ruth had arrived home from college having hitch hiked for the whole journey. She had had a lift from a lorry driver who swore colourfully in every sentence.  This was related to me in her letter so in response I wrote “Thanks for your bloody awful letter” and that damned me for ever as he never had the explanation.  I guess Ruth was too scared of Father’s reaction if he knew that she had hitch hiked home and with such a man!  

Well we will miss Ruth but think fondly of her and enjoy so many good times we had.

Liz