I can’t believe that I’m having to write this. Simon has no business dying. He was so full of life - it is too cruel. But, despite the sadness Maggie and I feel, we so want to share our memories of Simon and, inevitably, being Simon, those memories cannot but make us smile.
We first got to know Simon and Debbie in the 1990s when our son Jack was a classmate of Peter at Downsend Pre-Prep together. The first thing we remember about the two of them is just how hospitable they were. They had us round to dinner very soon after Maggie and Debbie met at the school and we’ve been firm friends ever since. Their Christmas drinks were legendary.
We’ve lived around the corner from Sheridans, in The Ridgeway, ever since we met. But, as Richard works for the FCO, we’ve always been coming back and forth between Fetcham and wherever we happened to be posted. Simon was a great raconteur (a skill he later parlayed into a nifty post-retirement career as cruise lecturer!). Having worked with Princess Margaret for so many years, he knew a lot of FCO people and a lot about Embassies. He could usually be relied upon to have some salacious gossip to impart.
Simon was a total copper. He loved the police force and the camaraderie that came with it. He may have been a PC once but, by god, Simon could never be accused of being PC. His jaw-dropping anecdotes, delivered with mischievous relish, from his time in the Special Patrol Group or in royalty protection were fabulously not political correct. Simon had such a huge zest for life and I can hear that giggle/guffaw in my ears now as he ploughed on ever deeper into gore or sexual content, deaf to all efforts by Debbie to divert him into safer waters. He needed one of those signs above his forehead which warned the listener that unsuitable content might be about to emerge! Never, ever dull.
I had some great trips to Twickenham and Lords with him. He was responsible, many years ago, for delivering me home after a long day at the cricket the drunkest I’ve ever been. He was absolutely delighted with himself (Maggie tells me – I don’t remember!) as he poured me in the door.
The other thing we know about the Cousins is that they do like a holiday! And we’ve been able to provide the odd venue over the years. We had memorable holidays together. Simon and Debbie came to see us while we were in Ankara 3 or 4 years back. And the two families had a great holiday together in Malaysia in the early 2000s when we were posted in Kuala Lumpur. We’ve dug our some photos to share with you. You can see us at the elephant sanctuary an hour or two outside KL. And most memorably we went to Borneo together. Debbie got to see her childhood home. We saw some turtles and orang-utans, explored some jungle and (in Simon’s case) destroyed an acre or two of coral while scuba-diving. But the highlight for Simon was my Malaysian military protection team (there had been some kidnaps in the area a few months earlier). As soon as they met us off the plane, wearing their tour company teeshirts (deep cover but unfortunately only one teeshirt for the week so they were pretty grubby by the end!) and sporting strangely weapon-shaped canvas bags, Simon was determined he was going to get to play with the guns. Much comparing of notes in broken English followed on weapon types and a process of persuasion over several days which led to our kids brandishing the weapons in the photo attached (“But Mr Simon, our boss will fire us”).
Simon was a man’s man (see rugby, cricket, drink and un-PC storytelling above) but he was utterly a family man. Nothing else compared. A total romantic, his love for Debbie was absolute and unflagging (and I think most of us know the details of their early sex-life). And it follows from that love that he was a totally devoted father to Sarah and Peter. He took immense pride in their personal and professional achievement from school to the career success they both now enjoy (particularly the gory bits of Sarah’s medical training and Peter’s rugby injuries). And one of the great sadnesses, among many caused by Simon’s way-too-early departure, is that he was not able to be a granddad for longer. He adored being a granddad. I think he may have had a phantom pregnancy during Sarah’s first, so closely did he regale us with its twists and turns.
It was a privilege to know him. A week on I still cannot take it in that he has died. A week before that he was chafing to get out of hospital as we messaged on Whatsapp. How fragile life is! But Simon lived it to the full, with an irrepressible sense of fun and mischief, but also with a deep sense of public service to the Met and the IPCC, and total love for his family. The memories make me smile. Maggie and I will miss him. All our thoughts are with Debbie and the family. Sorry for your loss.
Richard and Maggie Moore
I can’t believe that I’m having to write this. Simon has no business dying. He was so full of life - it is too cruel. But, despite the sadness Maggie and I feel, we so want to share our memories of Simon and, inevitably, being Simon, those memories cannot but make us smile.
We first got to know Simon and Debbie in the 1990s when our son Jack was a classmate of Peter at Downsend Pre-Prep together. The first thing we remember about the two of them is just how hospitable they were. They had us round to dinner very soon after Maggie and Debbie met at the school and we’ve been firm friends ever since. Their Christmas drinks were legendary.
We’ve lived around the corner from Sheridans, in The Ridgeway, ever since we met. But, as Richard works for the FCO, we’ve always been coming back and forth between Fetcham and wherever we happened to be posted. Simon was a great raconteur (a skill he later parlayed into a nifty post-retirement career as cruise lecturer!). Having worked with Princess Margaret for so many years, he knew a lot of FCO people and a lot about Embassies. He could usually be relied upon to have some salacious gossip to impart.
Simon was a total copper. He loved the police force and the camaraderie that came with it. He may have been a PC once but, by god, Simon could never be accused of being PC. His jaw-dropping anecdotes, delivered with mischievous relish, from his time in the Special Patrol Group or in royalty protection were fabulously not political correct. Simon had such a huge zest for life and I can hear that giggle/guffaw in my ears now as he ploughed on ever deeper into gore or sexual content, deaf to all efforts by Debbie to divert him into safer waters. He needed one of those signs above his forehead which warned the listener that unsuitable content might be about to emerge! Never, ever dull.
I had some great trips to Twickenham and Lords with him. He was responsible, many years ago, for delivering me home after a long day at the cricket the drunkest I’ve ever been. He was absolutely delighted with himself (Maggie tells me – I don’t remember!) as he poured me in the door.
The other thing we know about the Cousins is that they do like a holiday! And we’ve been able to provide the odd venue over the years. We had memorable holidays together. Simon and Debbie came to see us while we were in Ankara 3 or 4 years back. And the two families had a great holiday together in Malaysia in the early 2000s when we were posted in Kuala Lumpur. We’ve dug our some photos to share with you. You can see us at the elephant sanctuary an hour or two outside KL. And most memorably we went to Borneo together. Debbie got to see her childhood home. We saw some turtles and orang-utans, explored some jungle and (in Simon’s case) destroyed an acre or two of coral while scuba-diving. But the highlight for Simon was my Malaysian military protection team (there had been some kidnaps in the area a few months earlier). As soon as they met us off the plane, wearing their tour company teeshirts (deep cover but unfortunately only one teeshirt for the week so they were pretty grubby by the end!) and sporting strangely weapon-shaped canvas bags, Simon was determined he was going to get to play with the guns. Much comparing of notes in broken English followed on weapon types and a process of persuasion over several days which led to our kids brandishing the weapons in the photo attached (“But Mr Simon, our boss will fire us”).
Simon was a man’s man (see rugby, cricket, drink and un-PC storytelling above) but he was utterly a family man. Nothing else compared. A total romantic, his love for Debbie was absolute and unflagging (and I think most of us know the details of their early sex-life). And it follows from that love that he was a totally devoted father to Sarah and Peter. He took immense pride in their personal and professional achievement from school to the career success they both now enjoy (particularly the gory bits of Sarah’s medical training and Peter’s rugby injuries). And one of the great sadnesses, among many caused by Simon’s way-too-early departure, is that he was not able to be a granddad for longer. He adored being a granddad. I think he may have had a phantom pregnancy during Sarah’s first, so closely did he regale us with its twists and turns.
It was a privilege to know him. A week on I still cannot take it in that he has died. A week before that he was chafing to get out of hospital as we messaged on Whatsapp. How fragile life is! But Simon lived it to the full, with an irrepressible sense of fun and mischief, but also with a deep sense of public service to the Met and the IPCC, and total love for his family. The memories make me smile. Maggie and I will miss him. All our thoughts are with Debbie and the family. Sorry for your loss.
Richard and Maggie Moore
