Tricia Stewart - Calendar Girl

First published in the United States in 2004 by

The Overlook Press, Peter Mayer Publishers, Inc.

141 Wooster Street

New York, NY 10012

www.overlookpress.com

For bulk and special sales, please contact sales@overlookny.com

Copyright 2001, 2003 by Tricia Stewart

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.

ISBN 9-781-46830-383-4

Tricia Stewart is a director of a medical educational software company, which she runs with her husband Ian. She also teaches yoga and is training to teach Pilates. Along with the other calendar girls, she continues to raise money for the Leukaemia Research Fund. She has two children, Lizzi and Micky.

What an inspiration to be part of this experience. We had no idea it would bring new experiences, new friends and the rediscovery of old ones. The spirit and inspiration behind the calendar is John Baker. This book, which began as a diary of my letters to my daughter Lizzi, is the true story of an amazing reaction to our way of remembering a special, courageous man, with a great sense of humour. He will be enjoying every aspect of this calendar, alongside my Mam in heaven, or wherever we go.

To Ian, Lizzi, Micks, George; to everyone I have laughed with especially my friends at the Sheep Pens, all those mornings when ideas evolved into reality.

I am trying not to sound like the Baftas, but I understand why they have to do it!

My life has been full of wonderful people, family (especially my sisters who have patiently listened and advised on the lot!) and friends. I never thought I would be telling these special people in a book, written by me, how much I have enjoyed their love and friendship and encouragement.

Firstly, a big thank you to my friends from school for the humorous way they dealt with my mobile phone at the start of the media furore on the reunion weekend. We have laughed together for years.

I must say a heartfelt thank you to my original yoga group, inspired by Barbara, six brilliant joyous women, sharing experiences along with exercise. Now when we meet we share more experiences (mine lately) than exercise. I have appreciated all their sound advice and support.

The calendar what can I say but a massive thank you to all who helped us: Graham Kennedy of Jennings Brewery for the launch and shipping out of 50,000 calendars; Nick Magoolagan for setting us on the path; Terry Fletcher and Carol Green for their advice as journalists; all our sponsors; Chris and Natalie Gregson of the Devonshire Arms Cracoe; Rylstone & District WI for their patience and support; local businesses who sold calendars FOC for us; WI Head Office for allowing us to use the WI name; the LRF team for their marvellous support; the calendar team the eleven brave girls who took their clothes off for such a worthwhile cause; Terry Logan, our photographer for making us look so good that over 300,000 people wanted the calendar on their walls.

What can I say about the new friends I have made through the calendar? It has been a privilege meeting them, especially Preethi, the wise one; Amanda with her angels; Diana who made this book happen; Ene Riisna from the US 20/20 show who found us an agent and took the calendar to America; Agnes and the 60 Minutes crew; Workman Publishing in New York; Kim and Ellen Morgenstern whom we love; Sean Stowell from BBC who made the best documentary; my publishers, Pan Macmillan; my own editor Catherine Hurley (fancy!); Bryn, Saks, hairdresser to the Calendar Girls; the men behind the calendar girls for their patience, support and dedication to shifting calendars; Mr September John Clancy for cleverly coming up with Bakers Half Dozen; cheers to the Bakers half-dozen girls for having the courage to continue fundraising in the nude. What a team!

Finally, to my friend Sheila who told me to get on and write a book.

To: Lizzi Stewart, Flat 51, Bayview Waters, Piermont, Sydney, Australia

22 July 1998

Dear Lizzi

Im writing this after one of the hardest phone conversations Ive ever had. I simply didnt know how to tell you that John had died. I never thought this would happen. I was so sure he would survive even in the last few hours I believed he would improve. Im sure that John believed he would beat it, too, although he had spoken about how he had deteriorated in the last week. Last night he developed a chest infection that they couldnt control. They gave him massive antibiotics, he was drifting in and out of sleep, still smiling when he woke up. Later it developed into pneumonia. Ange couldnt bear for him to have any more discomfort. She asked him if he had had enough and he said yes. She kissed him and told him she loved him, and the last thing he said was that he loved her. They sat with him and talked about family holidays, all theyd done over the years, laughed and cried. His time in the hospital in Leeds has been tortuous for the whole family. There could have been a chance and he wanted to take it, he had coped so well with the chemo although he was weak.

Throughout it all he has been so brave and strong, never complained, just loved Ange and worried about her. People say she has become strong, but we know she has always been strong. She has supported and cherished John, been terrified, seen problems and pushed for a solution, given him injections and looked after him so well. I cant understand why they lost in the end and I dont think I ever will. Rachel and Matthew have been wonderful, supported her and looked after their dad in a totally unselfish way. They are so with her now, but their lives will never be the same. What a loss he is. I am sure they expected him to be here for ever, like a rock for them all.

Lynda and I saw John last night. Ange asked us to come and say goodbye. We stayed a while, then left so they could settle down for the night. On the way out we looked up at Johns window from the car park but couldnt see anyone. John must have died then, and they were beside him, all held hands and said a prayer. The nurses went into the room, they were crying too.

It was terrible to hear you sound devastated on the phone. I am sorry I led you to believe this wouldnt happen, I was so sure. I am really pleased you are coming home, it will be wonderful to see you. You are right, why would you want to be out there when this has happened.

Night night my angel, see you soon.

Lots of love,

Mum xxxxx

*

John Bakers death hit our little community hard. You dont know until you lose someone just how important a part of your life they have been. He and his wife Angela were my great friends and, as in small, close-knit communities everywhere, we all instantly rallied round Ange. We could only begin to imagine how wed miss our friend when his death really began to sink in, but for now we needed to help Angela through this terrible time.

At least Lizzi was coming home, thank you God for that. Lizzi, my twenty-one-year-old daughter, had set off for Thailand in November 1997, with plans to travel to Australia and New Zealand and stay away at least a year. When I told Lizzi of Johns death her instant reaction was to get home to us as quickly as possible.

Home was the village of Cracoe in North Yorkshire. It is a typical Dales village, full of traditional stone houses, overlooked by the Fell, the fields split by drystone walls. We are so lucky to live in Cracoe, looking straight out of our window on to the hills, in every direction in the village is a walk. A stream runs through the croft behind our garden, where George, our Labrador, plays when there are no sheep. The people here are diverse: farmers, National Park employees, businessmen, teachers, lawyers, artists and nurses. About 200 people in all. There is a farm shop, a caf and a pub all anyone could need. Lots goes on, the pub, the Devonshire (the Dev) is the hub of the village. During the period of my story it was run by Chris and Natalie Gregson, who have taken the village to their hearts and vice versa. They are about the same ages as Lizzi and Micky, who have both worked there and become good friends.