My name is Ben and I am Juliet’s older brother. Juliet started life with two distinct disadvantages: being stuck between two brothers and her epilepsy which was diagnosed at a young age. But she had a real strength of character which enabled her to deal with these issues and as we grew older Juliet was the one with the personality that enabled her to fit far more comfortably than her brothers in social situations, and she was the one that the adults warmed to. She was beautiful and kind and funny and generous . . . traits all of you referred to you in your respects to her all these years later. When we moved to London Juliet was the one who made friends with all the other kids in our block of flats and she fought and overcame the teasing that her epilepsy attracted at a tough inner London secondary school and made good friends there too. When she was 14 or so we moved to Pimlico. I remember pretty much the first day we were there, Juliet stuck on her rollerskates and headed off to the local playground and by the end of the day she had a completely new set of mates. She had that ability to integrate easily into new groups and new situations and that continued through her life. Juliet always had the ability to surprise me – she once dealt very competently with an allergic reaction suffered by my daughter and then gave me a good dressing down for not knowing how to deal with the issue myself and also for my level of surprise at her ability to deal with it given that she was a qualified dispenser. Our Father Charlie turned 70 a few years ago and it was arranged that she and I would make a surprise appearance at the party near his home in France. Juliet loved this – she planned the whole thing with military detail, even phoning Dad to wish him happy birthday when we landed in Toulouse as a cover for our whereabouts. The look on Dad’s face when he saw us there was something she cherished. Juliet was determined to research everything so that she understood what drugs she was taking. I accompanied her to some of her appointments . . . the consultant neurologist was certainly taken aback when Juliet started challenging his recommendations. Juliet liked a moan as much as the next person – the lack of understanding of her condition amongst others was her prime issue, but despite all of the crap she had to put up with she almost never complained about her own situation. I was thinking about this as I was preparing for today and I dug out an email exchange from a few weeks ago in which we were discussing her strategy was for a forthcoming meeting. I signed off with 'I admire your ability not to get too frustrated by it all.' And she replied 'It's like pain. You can spend your time screwing your face up and screaming, or you can work through and carry on.' It was her philosophy on life.