I first met Debbie in the ‘Princess of Wales’ pub on Blackheath, on the Friday evening of Whitsun Bank Holiday, in May 1983. As you’ve already heard, I was with Chris, my flat mate Peter Howitt, and several other pals from the Old Dunstonians. Debbie came in with her sister Denise and they certainly turned a few heads. During the evening, we’d embarked upon a quest to find the best looking girl in the pub, and as I lost at spoof, as usual, it was my job to inform Debbie that she had won our prize – which was a drink each, for her and Denise, and the much sought after opportunity to spend some time with us. Little could we have for seen, that those initial few hours would be extended to include most of that first weekend together, and the next twenty-four years of our lives.
It was an adventure that took us in a number of different directions. From Chislehurst to Tenterden for nine years, to Orpington, where we finally married, back to Blackheath and finally to Sidcup. Emotionally, it was a bit of a roller-coaster ride as well. Deb and I were never the answer to ‘loves young dream’, and like most couples we’ve had some difficult times, but we had a strong bond of love between us, which endured and grew as the years passed.
From the outset, Deb was a great organiser. When I met her she was working for a photo-copying company, organising and planning the daily workloads for 6 or 7 engineers who were all working in and around central London. There was a lot of pressure on her, but she thrived on it and excelled at her job. She also re-organised, cleaned and tidied the flat which Peter and I shared, but no longer dared to leave untidy. We realised from an early stage, that it was unwise to incur Debbie’s wrath.
When we broke the news that we were moving to Tenterden to run a bar and restaurant, everyone thought we were crazy. Neither I nor my partner Rob had any experience, and though both Debbie and Rob’s wife Carol had done some bar work, it was a terrific gamble. Fortunately, we inherited a fantastic manageress named Pauline, who had been running the bar for much of the time for the previous owners. She quickly showed us the ropes, before returning to the kitchen to concentrate on her exceptional cooking skills, leaving her new bosses to win over the locals with their good looks, charm and personality.
It was certainly an uphill struggle, especially for Rob and I, and although things were ticking over quite well, Rob decided to move onto fresh challenges after a year or so, and my flatmate Peter, who’d, achieved great success acting, came into the business as a sleeping partner.
Over the next few months, Debbie set about changing the feel of the bar, from a quaint wine-bar environment, to a vibrant, fast food style music bar. Workmen were employed, panels removed, beams exposed, the bar area was extended and if anything could be sponge-painted, it was. Her energy and enthusiasm for the task were extraordinary. We still had a steady lunchtime trade, but our weekends became a party, from Friday nights through to Sunday evening when live bands played. I foolishly, was still playing rugby at this time, so Deb and the girls would run Saturday lunchtimes and the early part of Saturday evening before I got back, more often than not injured, to help in some small way. On occasions, I was followed down to the bar by any number of friends from the Old Dunstonian Rugby Club, who often chose not to arrive until after closing-time, when they would scale the back of the building and climb in through a first floor window. Our staff, some of whom are here today, were all fantastic, entering into the spirit of each occasion and often staying well into the early hours to join in the fun. Our families too gave us great support, as regular visitors and on special occasions.
Throughout these times, Debbie was perfecting her catering skills and when Pauline eventually left us, Deb took over the running of the kitchen. Once again the emphasis and décor were changed, as Deb revamped the menu with fresh lobsters, crabs and T Bone steaks, and a baby grand piano was leased to give the place a piano-bar feel. By now, golf days with regulars and visiting friends were also a feature and Peter, with one or two other famous names, would entertain us long into the night on guitar and piano with Billy Joels’ ‘This Night’ a firm favourite. Debbie was in her element at this time. She was a truly wonderful hostess. Whether preparing a sumptuous New Years Eve Buffet for a hundred guests, or her famous New Years Day luncheon for 20 or more family and friends, Debbie took it all in her stride.
Two events then occurred which changed our lives. The first was the recession of the late 80’s and early 90’s, which put the business under considerable strain, and the second was the arrival of our son Michael, just two days after Deb’s birthday - she always said, he was the best birthday present she’d ever had. Deb decided to call him Michael after she was thrilled to receive a congratulatory phone call from Micky Skinner just a couple of days before he played in the Rugby World Cup ¼ Final against France in 1991.
As many of you will know, Michael was born with a serious deformity of his right foot, which was turned inward and under, because he’d been sitting on it in that position in the womb.
My initial reaction was one of despair, thinking that he’d never kick a ball, let alone play rugby. Debbie however, has always had absolute faith in Michael and whatever he aspired to. Her conviction was always that his foot would be corrected to a degree where Michael would eventually be able to play whatever sport he chose. After two operations, and countless numbers of corrective shoes, Michael had played twice at Twickenham before his twelfth birthday, and to his Mother’s great delight, he was recently selected for the Kent U.16 squad. With a knowing smile, she said ‘I always told you so’, when she heard the news.
We persevered at the bar for a couple of years before putting it on the market, though it took nearly a year to sell as the recession bit deeply. With heavy hearts, we eventually left Tenterden and some great friends, and rented a house in Lee, before buying a property in Orpington when I’d secured a regular job. Debbie found an excellent nursery for Michael and we settled into an easier lifestyle.
Within a few weeks however, I’d received an invitation to work as Backs Coach at Blackheath Rugby Club. It was a great opportunity for me to get back into rugby and there was a little extra money involved which we could certainly do with. The downside was that I was out two nights a week and most of Saturday and Debbie started to feel a little isolated. So, being Deb, she sold the house one Saturday when I was at rugby and found another almost opposite Blackheath rugby club, close to her mother and sister with a school and a nursery just over the road. A few months after moving in, our beautiful Lily was born and our family was complete.
Exciting times were ahead at Blackheath however, as rugby went professional and shortly afterwards I was offered virtually a full-time role at the club. There was talk of a link with Auckland from New Zealand and within a few months, their famous Head Coach Graham Henry was working with us at Blackheath and one of their Directors, John Baird, was appointed Chief Executive. He quickly realised that there was a terrific volume of administrative work to do, and having met Debbie socially, offered her a job. Deb relished the prospect of getting back to work, but worked only mornings so that she could still collect Lily from nursery each day. After a season however, Auckland withdrew from Blackheath and former coach Ron Bailey took over as General Manager. Although we struggled on the field, Debbie thrived in her work environment and these days were, I’m sure, some of the happiest of her life. We had two wonderful children, family and friends close by, and worked with a really good team of people all pulling in the same direction.
At about this time, Michael started playing mini-rugby, so every Sunday morning we went as a family to Greenwich Park for training. Deb would collect the subs from the parents and then take Lily around the Park in the push chair, before we adjourned for our obligatory lunch-time beers. In no time at all, Deb had also started doing all the administrative duties for the mini section in her spare time as time passed, the boys started playing matches and achieved great successes. Debbie rarely missed a game and would always be there on the touchline with Lily cheering on Michael and the boys.
With Michael nearing secondary school age our thoughts turned to his long term education and we decided to move to Sidcup to give the children the opportunity of going to Grammar School. Michael and Lily both settled in really well to their new school while Debbie still travelled up to work at Blackheath
Through the Minis we made lasting friendships with several wonderful families, and the eventual highlight was our tour to France in 2003 when the boys were Under 11’s. By this time however, Debbie had lost her job due to a reorganisation at the club. She was initially told that this would not impact on her position, but her new boss found that he was unable to make much progress on the marketing side, so he began doing Debbie’s administrative duties and effectively made her redundant.
This was a massive setback for Deb who had been badly shaken and depressed since her fathers’ death. In the months following our trip to France, Debbie gave up all interest in the club and as time passed, she lost much of her self-confidence and self-esteem. As her depression worsened, she stopped driving and became virtually housebound, going out only for the occasional celebration, shopping or family holiday.
Our old friend, Dr. Alan Thompson visited Debbie and did his best to help in a number of ways and for a short time things improved, but Deb ate such small amounts over a number of months that fluid built up in her tummy and she eventually went into hospital to have this removed.
What happened to Deb once that procedure started, I don’t think we’ll ever know? Something, probably an infection she was too weak to withstand, caused her to go into organ failure, and despite her fighting so bravely for nearly a week, while we hoped and prayed that the antibiotics would save her, the battle was eventually lost.
In our later years, Debbie had changed greatly from the high-spirited, fun-loving person that I fell in love with. Life takes us all in different directions, and not always where we want to go, but despite her problems, she was always ‘my Deb’, and it’s devastating to lose her. I miss our chats in the morning, just planning the day, I miss coming home to her, even if she was sometimes a bit grumpy, and I miss our hugs and kisses. In recent years she’d called me ‘her rock’ because she always knew she could depend on me, but throughout most of our time together, she had been the rock upon which our family was built; and even in recent weeks, there was always an evening meal prepared for us, and clean clothes for the children for school every day. How we’ll manage without Debbie, I don’t really know. But the children and I would like to thank everyone for their support and encouragement, and especially Jane and John, and Denise, for the time they’ve spent with us, and the kindness they’ve shown us, over the last two weeks.
I’d like to finish with a word about the music you’re about to hear and the song chosen to close the service. ‘Passera’ by Il Divo, was quite simply Debbie’s favourite song. She would sit at her computer with a glass of wine, and it would be both the first and the last song she would play. When we drove down to France three or four years ago, much of our journey was accompanied by Il Divo, and though we teased Debbie, in truth I know that ‘Passera’, became everyone’s favourite.
Our closing song is another great favourite of Debbie’s, and it’s the theme tune, to her favourite film, ‘An Officer and a Gentleman’. If you know the film, you’ll remember that it ends with the Officer, played by Richard Gere, going to his girlfriends’ workplace, taking her in his arms, and lifting her off her feet, to take her away from the life she has known, to a better life, in a better place.
If our Lord is out there somewhere, I’m sure he’ll have done the same for Debbie.
Phil Ubee – Oct 2007
