Remembering Rebecca "Bob" KayeAs you will probably know, my friend (and ex-girlfriend circa 1992) died last week. Today is her cremation, and her ashes will be scattered at her favourite place on Bodmin Moor. I don't want this to sound too emotional or sad, as I don't think she would've liked that sort of thing: the service today won't be like that, so neither will this.
Bob, as I knew her - because I saw an envelope her family had sent where she was named Bobo - moved into the room I'd lived in in Sassoon Hall at Middlesex University the previous year. She was a Performing Arts student; lively, loud, full of life and dressed in bright and quirky clothing.
We started going out about a month or so into her first year and were together pretty much constantly for a couple of years - meeting both sets of parents and siblings in the process - and although we did drift apart when she started her final year, we remained good friends.
The last I saw her in London was just after I moved into a new flat in 1993. She had short blue hair and was wearing what was commonly known as "that purple jumper" and Doc Marten boots. Our new neighbours were convinced they'd had punks move in next to them. Which is entertaining as Bob liked to listen to Elvis and the songs from musicals.
I got an email last year from Donna Goddard (another one of the ex-BAPAs who had moved down to Cornwall with her to set up a theatre in education company) saying that Bob had been diagnosed with metastatic melanoma the previous year. The rest of the that story can be read on the
BeccaBob blog so I won't go over it here.
Me and Emma Stirland drove down to see her in September last year and she was in good spirits despite everything, determined to beat this cancer inside of her. It was lovely to see her, her parents Bet & Pete and her new bloke, Kevin, and when we left, Emma and I both agreed that she had been looking a lot better than we'd expected.
Looks can be deceptive however, and she'd actually been incredibly ill for the next few days after our visit. To give the appearance of not being as ill as she was, had taken so much out of her. You couldn't take the performer out of her.
In mid-January, me and Suzi went down to Cornwall and popped in to see everyone. Bob still looked well, if a little more frail, but still seemed to have the confidence of beating the cancer. That was the last time I saw her alive. It seems that she lost some of that confidence soon afterwards, and despite fighting on until nearly June, she was too tired and too sore to keep going any longer.
Bob, you were a stunning girl, I'm glad I could count you as a friend. You are hugely missed.
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