Claudine

Oh Claudine what a laugh you were! Your irreverence (Depeche Mode were called Depressed Mood, and Kissing the Pink, Piss in the Sink). Your love of animals: so many cats, tortoises, turtles, a little scrawny dog).
Your advice. 'When you have a child, don't change anything. You child will see you as normal, and everyone else as different'. How brilliant!
Your compassion. I collapsed in a physical and mental heap after The Chefs split up. I couldn't eat and became a mess of skin and bones. You gave me a kitten, and I had to go out to buy food for it (and myself at the same time). I had something to love and care for and talk about.
You fed all of us starving bandlings with huge and disgusting Pot-a-Feux, and greasy meals from the caff.
You were a demanding boss: 'Is it coffee time?' (it always was), smoked like a chimney, were as chic as hell. You believed in, and practised, love.
You overcame the most horrendous childhood, and those horrors revisited you to devastating effect.
What a funny and amazing and loved person you were.
Always, in my head: 'Hélène, can you tell zat I am Frenshe?'.

Claudine on the left. Photo from Gaylene (on the right)