I was born in Norwich, which I still regard as the most beautiful city in the world, despite the attempts by the Luftwaffe to destroy it in the Second World War.
I like to keep fit, and when not gardening or singing solo or in a choir, I cycle, play tennis, swim, dance, and practise yoga.
Through singing, I met my second husband, Jonathan, who is a professional musician. He transformed our lives and relieved me of much of the strain that I had been carrying for so long.
Gardening is one of my enduring, favourite, and most rewarding pastimes.
Stephen's the great survivor, isn't he? He just goes on and on.
The family and Stephen were my reason for being. Without that, I felt I was nothing.
We met in our hometown of St. Albans when I had just left school and Stephen was starting his Ph.D. studies in Cambridge.
We were under scrutiny when Stephen became rich and famous. The media were in the house, and camera leads were absolutely everywhere - it was just nightmarish.
Just because you can no longer have a physical relationship with someone doesn't mean you don't love them.
In a sense, I am achieving what I set out to do - to devote myself to Stephen, to give him the chance of fulfilling his genius. But what have I become in the process? Who am I? What is there left of me? I am beginning to doubt my own identity.
As Stephen's fame began to take off in a big way, and because he was so immersed in physics, it was becoming more and more difficult to communicate with him.
Stephen could be highly critical of people other than his closest relatives... He considered my friends to be easy victims and had no compunction in monopolizing the conversation at parties with his controversial opinions.
