I first met Helen in the early 1970’s when my family moved to Trentham. I can’t remember exactly when we became friends, but I don’t recall many school holidays or weekends in my childhood that we didn’t spend together. Helen had the thickest beautiful blonde braided plaits which got yanked by the boys in the class on a regular basis much to her irritation. Being a quiet, shy child in a new place, Helen took me under her wing and she always found exciting fun things for us to do. When we moved up to high school, she always waited for me in a morning on New Inn Lane so she could walk to school with me. We both had a mutual love of history, art, wildlife and a similar sense of humour. We spent hours exploring the old disused railway line in Trentham, walked for miles in Trentham Park and Gardens and along the canal. She shared her knowledge of the local history. She also introduced me to New Inn Mills. We had such fun. We spent the summers as children picking fruit at New Inn Mills, mainly damsons and greengages. Although we spent most of the time falling off the ladders into brambles. We also explored the outbuildings of the farm. On one occasion I recall Helen’s father telling us not to go under the house into the tunnel underneath as there may be rats under there. We waited half an hour until he had gone out for the afternoon and then got a torch but only got a short way inside before we heard a noise and ran back out screaming. I’m not sure what it was but I didn’t go down there again with her. Another occasion I remember her cutting off the bobble on her father’s bobble hat with a pair of hedge clippers. He wasn’t very happy as it was on his head at the time, but it was very funny or we thought so. In the summer months we spent evenings after school in the open-air swimming pool at Trentham Gardens which I recall was absolutely freezing even on the warmest of days and having to swim with our mouths shut to avoid swallowing the dead wasps and bees and other debris floating on top. Other times we hired a rowing boat on the lake, much to the annoyance of the fishermen if we got too close. We also used to drag an old go-kart to the top of the drive, taking it in turns to sit in it with the other pushing it to gain speed. Winters were spent sledging in Trentham Park. On one occasion the red paint from the sledge and the dye from our jeans stained the snow in almost the shape union jack as we came off the sledge. The older we got, the more adventurous we became, dragging the sledge right to the top of Trentham Park by the trees known locally as the Seven Sisters, and sledging down the fern hills, gathering great speed before we reached the bottom. At some point I think we may have passed one of our teachers who lived locally, although in fairness we were travelling that fast I can’t be sure but we had a lecture in assembly the following Monday about children taking more care when using a sledges which seemed a bit of a co-incidence. What I liked about Helen was she was different, unique. Most other girls in the 1970’s (including myself) had pictures of Starsky and Hutch on their bedroom walls but Helen adorned her bedroom walls with beautiful Art Deco prints. Art was always both of our favourite subject. We both passed our O Level Art a year early although Helen’s work was always so much better than mine. In our teenage years Helen always seemed most comfortable in shorts made from cut down jeans and a tee shirt. We did buy matching drainpipe cords from a shop in Hanley called Crazy Face. Helen bought a black pair and mine were pastel blue. The fashion at the time was to wear them very tight and I remember us both lying on the floor to get them on and the shop assistant had to come into the cubicle to help us both although we both were helpless with laughter throughout. Thank goodness we have elastane now! We also both knitted a mohair jumper. Helen taught me knitting basics. We wore our new itchy jumpers to a Boomtown Rats concert at Trentham Hall and we scratched and perspired for most of the duration. I’ve written perspired as Helen always used to say “Caroline, Ladies don’t sweat, they perspire”. We also made ourselves necklaces from safety pins in a half-hearted attempt to be part of the Punk Rock movement and in those days, at concerts you waved actual lit cigarette lighters to the music way before people had and used the lights on their mobile phones. It wasn’t a proper concert unless you went home deafened and smelling of singed hair. Generally, our taste in music was different. Helen liked rock music and went to a lot of the festivals such as Knebworth and I preferred The Bee Gees and Earth Wind and Fire. I remember Helen also bought albums by Mike Oldfield, Neil Diamond and Helen Reddy after seeing them at Festivals. In our teenage years we went to a few discos, and we used Julie’s ID to get in as we weren’t technically old enough to be there (sorry Julie not sure if you knew but you do now). Once at the disco we would buy a couple of Babychams which we would “beef up” with brandy “acquired” from my mother’s drink cabinet, replacing the brandy with water. I remember us stifling giggles as my mother declared one Christmas or New Year’s Eve that “They didn’t make brandy like they used to”. At this point it must have been at least 50% water. During our college holidays we worked at Manor bakery, now Kipling’s together. At this point although the pay was very good for the time, we both concluded we would never be factory girls and the work certainly wasn’t “Exceedingly good” but more mind numbingly boring. I had the wonderful job of packing almond slices on the conveyor belt, where Helen’s main job seemed to consist of removing dead wasps with a children’s fishing net out of the boiled apple pie mix. The sound system at the bakery played the same half an hour tape continually through our four hour shifts on repeat. Surprisingly I can only remember Michael Jackson’s song “Ben” and neither of us could listen to this song for years after. The only plus side of the job was you could buy the damaged cakes for 10 pence a box and Helen filled her mum’s freezer and we ate them for months after although I could never face the Almond Slices and haven’t been able to eat them since. I have only managed to find 2 photographs of Helen which were taken on an old 110 camera in North Wales on a day trip with David Rowley, David Chetwyn and Barbara Mundy. Sorry the picture quality is poor. We all bought autograph books when we left primary school to go to high school and had our classmates sign them. I have found a picture Helen drew in 1975 which I’ve attached and shows her artist talent even then. I felt incredibly sad to hear that Helen is no longer with us but also have smiled and laughed when I’ve remembered some of the things we did and will cherish the memories. She was a very special person.

Helen can only be described by me as a true friend, I can truly say that I was privileged to have known her all these years. She taught me so much and inspired me, and her creativity astounded me. We had some great times, some not so great times, but no matter, we were always there for each other, me winding her up about the loveliness of garlic, her venting her frustrations at me, right through to the end. I could always sense the raising of the disapproving eyebrow of which she was the master! She was an inspiration to so many people at so many levels, especially in the later years when it would have been just too easy to give up to her awful illness. She carried on building the wonderful legacy with George at the Mill and she just carried on, regardless of the daily challenges she faced, just look at the felt and wool sheep, birds and highland cattle she created in the last months, outstanding. As others have said, there’s no doubt George has her creativity gene. So Nell, thank you for sharing your wonderful life with me, for being a true friend, I will miss you.............Rob

Like Barbara, I’m shocked to find that I don’t have many photos of Nell. (She was of course an expert camera-dodger, which also has something to do with it.) I’ve found a picture of (most of!) Nell from when she pitched in to help me in her typical no-nonsense style when I was overwhelmed with stuff in 2017. Painting, tip runs, garden clearance… there was no stopping her. Then she insisted on taking me away for a weekend to Barbara’s to help me unwind. Thank you, Nell – it was exactly what I needed. I remember many lovely occasions at the Mill, including a New Year’s Eve party where Nell had come up with some excellent party games. She organised us into pairs, equipped us all with crepe paper, scissors and tape, and made us dress each other up as the flower we most reminded each other of. (David did me up as a nettle.) That night was also my first (but thankfully not last) experience of Nell’s famous trifle. Wow. Every visit to the Mill was an adventure and a surprise. I remember being so impressed by her cutting garden and her huge crop of everlasting flowers. She had them hanging up to dry everywhere, all beautifully placed with her artistic touch. With our shared interest in gardening, it was she that thought of and organised a fantastic clipped box ball tree from the group for my 40th birthday. The photo is a bit of a blur, but the good memories are sharp.