St Mary's Church in Horsell was packed for the funeral of Robin Hoyle, whom I could name as Mr Motivator without fear of contradiction.

I am told that church numbers were approximately 150 with 30 following the service online – from all over the world. Proof of the high esteem in which he was held and will be held for years to come.

Robin was born in Derbyshire to Patricia and Leslie Hoyle. The family later moved to Letchworth, where Robin and brother Ian could attend St Christopher's, a progressive vegetarian school – the boys were fourth generation vegetarians. Robin’s parents both became teachers there to enable their sons to attend.

After leaving school, it became clear that Robin’s strengths were more suited to the world of work and he progressed steadily.

Whilst he was working in IT at British Aerospace, he met Amanda. Their story is one of serendipity, as Robin’s father and Amanda’s mother met through a “personal introduction agency” and went on to be married.

For a time, the two families lived together before Robin and Amanda bought their own home. They married in 1985 at St Mary’s Church in Hitchin, after Robin sold four tyres to buy the engagement ring.

Their first daughter, Alice, was born in 1994, and, shortly after, the family moved to Woking, where Robin began working at Telewest Communications. They settled into Ormonde Road in Horsell where they have lived ever since. In 1998, their second daughter, Philippa, was born.

Robin’s career took him to many places, including a stint at the McLaren Technology Centre and abroad for extended periods, including three years in Malta.

After many years of working for other companies, Robin co-founded Replica Parts Limited with his business partner Giuseppe, manufacturing and selling parts for vintage Porsche cars – a project that combined his passion for engineering, cars and business.

Outside his work, Robin was deeply involved in his local community. At the start of their marriage, he and Amanda were active members of Friends of the Earth, and Robin later became chair of both the local and national Vegetarian Society.

His dedication to community service didn’t stop there, and was deeply rooted in the village of Horsell. In 2012 Horsell village celebrated the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee despite the horrendously wet weather.

Perhaps, in a perverse way, that weather encouraged a sort of Blitz spirit on the High Street, leading us to all pull that little bit harder to try to overcome the wind and the rain.

Robin was at the heart of it and this led him to becoming even more involved in the Horsell community, later becoming chair of the Horsell Residents’ Association for five years from 2016 until summer 2021.

During his tenure he took up the "community activities" baton shaped by his predecessor, Tony Kramer, and ran with it strongly, building up the strength of the Second Thursday Club and the Horsell Common Preservation Society and initiating the introduction of a fully-functioning database enabling better member communications.

The spring edition of The Resident carries a fulsome tribute to Robin. He was so dedicated to the local community that he also delivered The Resident's second-largest round, some 136 doors (Ormonde Road where he lived, plus Rosehill Avenue, South Close and the western half of Meadway Drive) for over nine years, never missing a season.

Most certainly leading by example!

He helped organise events such as the Horsell Christmas market, the Picnic on the Green, and the Horsell litter picks. He even managed to make the last of these fun and made sure everyone enjoyed this chore, finishing at Cafe Primo for a hot drink and perhaps food.

He was one of those leaders who gets things done and makes you think that all the good ideas were really yours, despite his gentle persuasion to guide you to his way of thinking – which was always innovative and worked.

He knew that Horsell village was not just the residents but the tradesmen as well – all one big group. During his funeral it was noted that there would be a hiatus between the service, when the family would take him in his wicker coffin in the “Wallace and Gromit” sidecar to the crematorium, and the wake at the village hall.

It was therefore suggested, in the church, that people might like to visit The Crown, The Red Lion or Cafe Primo to fill that gap.

As I was going on to the funeral of Perveen Baluch Jenkins after Robin's I had left my car at the village hall: I still get very puffed out when walking and so had worked out, to the best of my ability, the route taking in the least walking.

Once in the village hall the Scouting fraternity suggested I sat quietly in the Bedser Room until the family arrived for the wake. This room was being used for food preparation – there was a great deal of varied food and any omnivores worried they might go hungry at a vegetarian wake had no need to feel that way – and the food was labelled as to what was in it, or not.

As I sat waiting one of the busy team of workers exclaimed “It takes a village...” and as I sat there a looked around I realised how right she was: the three places name checked in the church as places to relax before the wake; the church itself, the Scout HQ and helpers from here; the Village Hall itself. They all came together as one big thank you to Robin.

I remember I had helped Robin with some event or other and he turned to me and said “Thank you for being you!” as though I had just done him an enormous favour.

No, Robin, thank you for being you – we shall all miss you.

If you were in Sunderland some 90 years ago you might have come across Doris Birtley, who was born there on 3 January 1935 . She died on 3 February 2025, but in those intervening years she changed much – including her name.

She preferred to call Sunderland Seaham Harbour where her father was a dispensing chemist with his own shop. As soon as she was old enough, she took up training at the Sunderland eye hospital, taking her final exam at Moorfields in London during which time she met a young and good-looking doctor from Pakistan and they got married and went to live in Pakistan.

Here she learnt Urdu. No longer Nurse Birtley she now took on her Pakistani names: Perveen Baluch.

After 13 years, and raising a family, they returned to the UK because the political situation had become uncomfortable and her husband took up a position in St Peter's Hospital, Chertsey. Later he became a GP and set up a surgery in part of the house where Perveen spent the rest of her life.

Perveen was the practice manager and assisted, as a nurse, in some private work at the weekend. He died of a coronary and Perveen was still quite young.

The next part of her life started with getting drawn into local politics. The ward of Central and Maybury, as it was then called, had always been a Labour ward and the Conservative party saw an opportunity when they knew Perveen spoke Urdu in the vernacular; she also sometimes spoke English in the vernacular, as some may have noticed.

The ward had a large population of people of Pakistani origin and she wooed them , as only she could and, surprise, she won the seat. She was not really a politician, she did it with her heart and was deeply involved with her constituents' problems.

Some time later she became disenchanted with the Conservatives and turned over to Labour. After a while a clique in the local party wanted their own man in the seat and managed to de-select her in favour of the other person.

Immediately, we set up our own campaign team and called ourselves “Independent Labour” and got the official party running around very worried. Of course, they beat us but we came second and got a very good vote.

This wasn’t the end of Perveen's political adventures. In one last go, she stood as Lib Dem candidate in Knaphill, but lost against the sitting councillor who was an Independent.

At that point, having given all three a go she gave up in favour of travel. (What we might think of as her Vicar of Bray period!)

Her widower, Simon, recalled: “I had met her towards the end of her political career. I was also a widower, having been married for 33 years, my wife having died of cancer.

“I was at a loose end one day and feeling low. I had heard that Woking was celebrating One World Week, which coincided with United Nations day. This involved getting all the nationalities in the town to perform some song or dance from their countries of origin at the Leisure Centre.

“I went along, curious to see what this was about, I lived in Camberley at the time. The parade entered and who should be carrying the Woking flag, dressed in a shalwar chemise, long blonde flowing hair, this intriguing lady whom, I later learnt was Perveen.

“After the performances there were a number of stalls for different nationalities, and she was on one and we got talking and instantly hit it off. We had a coffee in her house and found we had a lot in common, a cinema date was arranged and the rest, as they say, is history.

“We got married in September 1998 and we haven’t been apart since then. We had bought a boat around that time, naturally named Perveen. We spent a good deal of our time going to France and staying there, up the River Seine in, or near, Paris and really soaking up the atmosphere.

“We joined the local church in Horsell and Perveen threw herself into it enthusiastically. She polished the brass every Friday, sang in the choir on Sundays, took her turn at serving teas and coffees after the Sunday service and made special cakes to be dished out with the drinks. She even got confirmed.

‘Our travelling came to full stop with Covid. To make matters worse, Perveen had a stroke at the outset of the pandemic and she was in hospital for a week and no visitors.

“Luckily, due to her medical training and foresight, when the stroke struck she took four aspirin and that alleviated the worst of the symptoms but it affected her swallowing and for the last 18 months she has been on a soup diet.

“I used to buy a hundred tins at a time, I will be on soup for the next six months.

“She was admitted to hospital before Christmas and transferred to the Woking Hospice after a fortnight. The last four weeks of her life were in their care and I couldn’t fault them.

“I could stay for as long as I wanted and they fed me as well. Their staff were so kind and helpful and the rooms were pleasant with big French windows and TVs and all laid on.

“Perveen died in peace during her sleep at 2 o’clock on Monday 3 February – exactly a month after her 90th birthday. May she rest in peace. We will not see her like again.”