Christine Laing was the best of friends. For 40 years she was our steady, loyal, kind, generous, caring, funny, fussy, usually busy, on the go, creative friend. She was a smart dresser largely because she was a seriously compulsive shopper, not just for herself but for her family and we knew her generosity with countless outfits passed on to our children. She was our neighbour, occasional child minder and baby sitter, confidante and not least great company to relax in. She had a laugh that Margaret described as a cackle, something you could hear in a busy room before you caught sight of her. She could look at you with a narrowing of the eyes, somewhere between questioning and disapproving when you happened to say something she didn't agree with. But in our experience, it would quickly fade into a smile. We inevitably managed to find the common ground again. 

Our first memory of Christine is just after our son Euan was born and we were reeling under the shock of being new parents. There was a knock at the back door and Margaret answered to find Christine with a sizeable bump of her own that was soon to become Teri. She had a gift for our baby, came into say hello and asked how we were. It was the start of a friendship that would create an unbroken bond between her and her family to ours. She was always there for us, offering the gift of friendship that we so much appreciated. As the years passed, Euan and Teri became great playmates and remain strong friends to this day. Euan still recalls being the head on which Teri practised her emerging make up skills. As new mums, Margaret and Christine shared lots of coffee and chats during the day and a glass or two of wine of an evening. We remember Christine coming in the back door late one night. "Is something wrong?"Margaret asked. "No" said Christine, "I just saw your light was still on and thought I'd pop over". And from behind her back she brandished a bottle of Liebfraumilch and so another late night blether began. 

As the years passed our families grew closer, friendship deepend and we saw our children head off to school together. About that time, Margaret recalls a Friday morning when Christine came in the back door, complaining of pains in her stomach, which was fair enough considering she was nine months pregnant and just about on her due date. Margaret too was a week from her due date and it was clear a trip to Forth Park Maternity was urgently needed. Christine had at that time a wee yellow Fiat car which was to say the least compact and driving was clearly going to be problematical. So with the help of a retired neighbour, Margaret was shoe-horned into the back seat, Christine shovelled into the front and the neighbour, himself a man of decent proportions, squeezed behind the wheel. Arriving at Forth Park, a nurse looked at them both asking "OK who's first?" In the days before mobile phones, Christine had been unable to contact Fred, her mum Jessie or her sister Joan. As Margaret was preparing to wish her well, Christine asked her to stay. And stay she did, holding her hand as Gary made his entrance into the world. If that sort of experience doesn't deepen friendship, then nothing does. 

A few months later, Christine appeared, again at the back door - we cannot recall a time when she actually ever came in the front door - with an invitation to a Baptism and a Beer to join her family for Gary's Christening. It was a delightful day and for both Margaret and myself it was the start of a connection with the family and fellowship at Pathhead Church that became a very precious part of our life at that time. Christine and Margaret shared lots of enjoyable and special fellowship moments together at Pathhead in Banner groups, Young Women's Group, weekends away and house groups. And of course our children knew her tender mercies in the Sunday school. And has any child ever forgotten their participation in a Nativity Play jointly produced and directed by her and Auntie Joan? All of these times forged an even deeper connection with Christine that we really came to treasure. And so began a second wave of children playing in each other's homes, attending nursery and starting primary school together. Our daughter Kathryn recalled Christine putting plaits in her hair, brushing furiously exhorting her to keep her head still. Underneath all the fussing, we all recognised there was a tender and caring heart. While she wouldn't have admitted it, she was actually a bit of a softie. During one very harsh winter when the snow was deep around Mellerstain, she found a dog, sitting beside the lollypop lady at the roadside, shivering and abandoned, and took pity on it. She decided it needed rescuing, so she took it home, then brought it to us, because as she said, she didn't really do dogs but we did. And so Susie, as we called her, came to be part of our family. 

In time our family moved north to Perthshire and so the regular neighbourly contact came to an end. For all the years that followed, however, there were regular catch ups by phone, usually at great length and the friendship stayed strong. She never missed a birthday. We shared the delight of attending our children's wedding celebrations, big birthday parties and most recently a birthday party which my son Euan and I shared. Euan reminded her "You were like a second mum to me". "Really?"she replied mischievously. "I never thought I was as nice as that to you". There was a pause, then a big smile, followed by a mighty cackle. 

Recently we all met up at Loch Leven sharing stories about grandchildren as well as sandwiches, coffee, blethers and fond reminiscence. It was a delightful couple of hours filled with laughter but sadly the last time we were to be together. Christine was a generous, helpful and fun neighbour with whom we shared many wonderful times. She was a very special part of our family story, a life-affirming presence. We will miss her but will always hold dear and be grateful for the laughter, love and kindness she gave us. She was the best of friends.