I count myself very lucky, privileged even, to have had a great number of fantastic mentors in my life – people who have supported, guided, encouraged and inspired me to realise my dreams and talents. People who have helped me become the person I am today, and whom I always will feel very grateful to have known. One of them, perhaps my first mentor, and probably the first person who encouraged me to make writing my profession, passed away in the wee hours today, after many years spent gradually disappearing into the land of forgetfulness.

I know she felt she had had more than her share of adventures and blessings many years ago, and would have preferred to go much earlier than she did, so my only regret today is that I don't have any exquisite wine or champagne in the house to pour myself a glass and raise a toast for a life well lived, as surely she deserves and would have wished (since it's Easter Sunday, all the shops are closed). So as a substitute for the real thing, here's a symbolic toast from people I know appreciated her spirit (more about this remarkable woman, and our last celebration of her life and achievements, here):