We loved to do a crossword together, but when Dad passed away, he sent me one last clue.
Glancing over at my dad, Peter, on the train, I couldn’t help but smile.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ he said, looking out of the window.
We were on board the Flying Scotsman, careering through the countryside, after I’d won the trip in a newspaper competition.
We travelled from London to Stratford-upon-Avon and were treated to a lavish four-course meal with wine.
Afterwards, he spent the next few weeks bragging to all his friends about our free trip.
It was Dad who got me into competitions.
Every weekend, we’d gather at the kitchen table, spreading out the competition and puzzles pages from all the papers and magazines.
We’d start off with the crosswords, then move on to the slogan competitions and the puzzles.
We’d sit for hours with mugs of tea and biscuits, until we’d completed each puzzle. On Sunday evening, Dad would send off our answers, hoping we’d win. But then Dad began to feel unwell. He went to the doctor and it was awful news. He was diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver.
As he became more poorly, the puzzles and competitions provided the perfect distraction when we spent time together.
Our favourite was the Celebrity Scramble crossword. Each answer provided a letter, which spelt out the name of a popular celebrity.
‘Shall we start with the crossword?’ I said to Dad that Sunday.
He jumped at it, and we sat working out each clue.
‘Eleven across is torrential — a downpour of water,’ I said.
‘Brilliant,’ Dad replied. ‘So the celebrity must be Jenny Agutter!’ ‘Your favourite,’ I teased.
Dad loved Jenny Agutter and we’d spent many afternoons watching her in the film The Railway Children. Her character, Roberta,
