I was shocked to arrive home and open Facebook messages from Chris, first saying that he was asking a friend to call to her flat, then confirming the sad news. Even sadder that the only people who seem to care enough to make enquiries all live miles away. I wonder if there was even a funeral.

I met her for lunch last time I was in London, and (along with Kevin Shiels) had a great gabfest putting the folk world to rights, recalling old friends and reliving past times. I was so looking forward to getting together with her again, and taking that canal-side walk in Canonbury, near where I used to live, that we promised ourselves. She was a stalwart of another era, and it's devastating to think that one more of us is gone.

I can confirm what other people have said - that she was far nicer and gentler in real life than her peppery online persona would suggest. Also far more sensitive. We emailed each other quite a lot at one time (I think later on, eyesight problems made computer work difficult for her - she was going to Moorfields regularly, plus a whole slew of medical appointments in other areas). But it always baffled me that she could be such a great friend offline and then - too often - turn into Ms Hyde once she got anywhere near a forum. She once expressed private regret to me about how many people she had pissed off, prompting me to wonder (but not ask) why she wrote in such a provocative manner.

It's been a horrible time for losing people. I'm just home from California, where I've been attending my very ill father, who died while I was there. I had intermittent internet access, and the first time I popped my nose in here, it was to learn that our beloved Kat had passed. Then when I got back to my own computer and and looked at my Facebook messages, I found out from Chris that Diane was gone. Then here, only to learn about Bobbie Ritchie (R.I.P.). Interestingly, Diane had sent me an audio clip of Simon Ritchie (of whom she was a fan) as a Christmas greeting just this year past. So it's with a very heavy heart that I write this. In the immortal words of James Taylor:

Always thought I'd see you again.

Rest in peace, Diane