This is the tribute that I, her Mum, gave to Alice at her funeral service.

She loved her family and friends with a passion, and loved Francis, the love of her life above all.  She made things special for people and brought people together … masterminding huge Christmas meals for student friends at university, lockdown quiz for her friends, sharing it with the family - who would still be quizzing now if it had not got to the stage of not feeling quite right while she was so ill.  Who can forget those rounds – ‘tail or no tail’, ‘name that nut’ or simple the simply titled - ‘beige foods’. She made us laugh and she made things special – I always had a posh breakfast in bed on mothers’ day - eggs benedict, or smoked salmon with scrambled eggs.  On Christmas day of 2020 – one you will remember as being a Christmas almost cancelled, she made it special with eggs royale and bucks fizz, and stockings all round.  And for my 60th birthday in full lockdown what did she do, but spent hours making strings of woolly pompoms as a surprise decoration for the conservatory, and organised friends and family from far and wide to take part in a birthday video that made me gasp with delight.  I don’t think anything could surpass the surprise I had when she turned up, unknown to me, at our Brittany campsite where a small group of family where holidaying together.  They all knew of course, but she wanted to surprise me and I will never forget that. She was like that – making things special – creating community and bringing people together … a great organiser of secret Santas, boules tournaments, balls and parties. She rallied fellow students to protest after the Brexit referendum – and I love that when she appeared in a photo of the protest, she posted online ‘Still devastated, but achieved my dream of being in the top news story on the Guardian website’!  She engaged in politics and hated injustice and discrimination, and was especially passionate about the power of children’s books to challenge stereotypes and enable all to flourish.  
I’m sure many of you will have your own memories of Alice making things special.  In return, the love and kindness of so many friends (her friends and my friends) and our family has been a light in her illness – cosy socks in the post, surprise bath bombs, a TV, hampers of goodies, mangoes, strawberries, an ice cream cake, magazines, flowers, flowers and flowers – I’m sorry if I didn’t mention your gift, but they were special all, and treasured and gave joy. It’s been a tremendous privilege and pleasure to meet and get to know so many of the special people in her life.
Memories, so many memories and Alice had an amazing memory – names of people, names of places, what she was wearing, what she ate … I’m often finding myself thinking ‘Alice would remember’.  Alice loved the rain, she loved pesto on toast, cold pizza for breakfast, browsing in a Polish supermarket and eating Polish cheese and pierogi … she loved to ski, to swim, to laugh … camping and shoes, making fiery chilli pickles, and seeing the comedy in life … RuPaul’s Drag Race and Coach Trip, Gavin and Stacy, or a serious documentary. Galleries and exhibitions, reading and drawing, walking in the country, walking in London, exploring new places, pub nights with her friends, walking up Snowdon, day trips to the sea … or quietly at home, alone time, drawing, sewing, knitting, creating. Private yet gregarious … and such a sense of humour – she had this way of coming out with the most perfect one-liners.  How we love you.
We shared a love of musicals - we’d go to local shows in Trowbridge, and London shows for special occasions – a surprise Mama Mia when we stood and danced together in the dress circle, or those songs from Moulin Rouge where we would duet and sing that ‘I will love you until my dying day’ – a line that has come to haunt me over recent times.  Such a fantastic singing voice … I’m not sure that I ever actually saw her karaoke but I know that she could take off Cher and Heather Small to a tee.  I’ve heard that she and Francis would take to the floor with Islands in the Stream on occasion, and as a small child in reception, her teacher said that they always knew when Alice was in the loo because she would be singing.  She loved a bit of the Am Drams and, growing up, was regularly on stage in Trowbridge and Southwick, she even wrote and directed her own play for Southwick entertainers! … She appeared as principal girl in pantomimes, in Daisy pulls it off and South Pacific to name just a few. There were plays at school too, surely a Shakespeare, but most memorably a wonderful Beverley in Mike Leigh’s Abigail’s Party – I’m not sure if her love of cheese and pineapple on sticks began in that play, or whether the play was an opportunity to celebrate the love! Whatever the truth behind that, she always had great stage presence and clear delivery – came in useful during her year as Head Girl at the John of Gaunt school – I did hear reports of the Head Teacher applauding her as the best head girl ever, but then I’m her mum and have always been proud. 
At school she pushed herself hard and got great results.  Alice may have been all about love, but she was also all about art.  I’m not sure where to start in doing justice to her creativity … was it those early drawings, the creative mess of her bedroom (if my Sellotape or glue stick or stapler went missing, it was sure to be up in her room) or the selection in year 7 to fast track to GSCE art.  Whatever – art was a constant, with a wonderful year on the art foundation course at Trowbridge College after A levels, and then … off to Warwick Uni to study … History.  She loved history (my family will nod wryly at a mention of the Berlin Air Lift – a round at a Christmas quiz that had us all quite flummoxed) but soon acknowledged to herself that Art was the real love, and so she got herself a place at Chelsea College of Art and Design for a degree course in Fine Art – initially anxious about how she’d cope in the Capital, and afraid she’d get lost (Alice’s sense of direction was never a strong point) she quickly found her way and came to love it. It’s there that she had the most full and enriching time, experiencing all that London had to offer for bright young art students, making lasting friendships and meeting the wonderful Francis who she so wanted to be able to spend the rest of her life with.  This is the cruellest thing, that her life has been so cut short, but she said to me several times, that she doesn’t regret anything about her life.  She has taken the chances when they came along, and has done so much, lived so fully and loved it.  In her own words she had ‘a very happy and special life’.
Alice loved life, she loved the world and loved to travel and became a bit of frequent flyer.  She was the sort of person who took people up on their offers and made lives richer through it.  My brother, her uncle Kniff once threw out a light hearted invitation to join him in his car crossing over the sea to Brittany – he hadn’t really envisaged that she would stick with him throughout his two week holiday but she did and they had, I believe, a ball.  At the station in Trowbridge I helped her and her luggage on board – she’d packed for all eventualities and I remember texting him to break the news that she had ‘quite a lot of stuff’ with her, so that he wouldn’t be too shocked!  Alice has always taken plenty of ‘activities’ with her – art materials and the like – as a child on camping holidays, she’d sneak extras into the car, out of the eye of her dad – and spend happy hours making and doing in her tent room. 
But back to those travel opportunities … if friends went abroad and said ‘come and visit’ she did. Iceland, Portugal, Italy, Germany, and many trips to France to visit her sister.  She applied for Erasmus and had 5 months at Art School in Nice, she spent several weeks one summer in a remote town in Ukraine where she was welcomed like a queen by the people who’d never met an English speaker before.  She made firm friends with Oksana her host there and took Francis back to visit a couple of years later.  One of my favourite stories was of her drinking vodka in a toast with the mayor, the occasion made public in the local paper.  People have always taken Alice to their hearts.  Yes, she could be prickly at times, forthright in her views, feisty and challenging – but had a kindness and a generosity that was infectious.  It’s been humbling to witness her concern for others and appreciation of everyone who’s been helping her through this illness – always a thank you and a smile, asking others how they are, even when she was suffering, pained and scared.
After graduating from Chelsea, she worked for a year or two as a Teaching Assistant at St Clement Danes Primary school in Drury Lane and she talked often of the young children in her care with such kindness, and empathy.  I’m sure that Miss Parker was very well loved – she had a time in the office too, and I loved to hear of the way she dealt with some of the trickier parents – she wouldn’t take any nonsense and told it how it was, but all respectfully done – an enviable skill.
Alice wanted to come to her funeral in a casket made of wool, and what could be more appropriate.  Her life was full of fabric, yarn and threads.  Her teenage Saturday job was working at Fabric Magic in town; she loved serving the customers and she’d be inspired in new knitting or sewing projects, and she created her own bunting business with market stalls and Etsy online ... people found it hard to resist the fluttering flags in joyous colour combinations. One of her pieces at Chelsea was a quirky collection of tools and utensils covered intricately in pink velvet, and wool woven landscapes and china dogs came together in her degree show. When she and Francis went to Iceland – she came back with Icelandic wool packed into her rucksack!  She revelled in knitting characters for her god children, nephew and niece … she said she’d ‘achieved a life ambition to become the kind of aunt that deals only in slightly off-hinged hand knitted gifts’ and I’ve no doubt that they’re much treasured. More recently, Alice became interested in embroidery and her stitching was exquisite – her inspiration, the self-sufficient culture of rural Ukraine, and men gardening in their underwear … sounds alarming, but have a look at her work at the gathering later. It was so hard for her to have to put down her needle when she could no longer sew, but such a comfort in the times when she could.
Alice was so bright and funny, she was a talented writer too and many of you will have received letters and cards, handwritten over the years.  I’ve found a blog of her time in Nice, stories and recollections, social media posts, a book that she and I used for a running correspondence in her early teens … and few who heard it can forget the speech she gave at her sister Lucy and JB’s wedding – sheer genius. Her vibrancy shines through all her writing and not least in ‘Saga’ the book that that she wrote and illustrated for her Masters in Children’s Book Illustration at Goldsmiths.  She embarked on her Masters just weeks after the major surgery that left her with an L shaped scar which she tagged on Instagram as ‘L is for life’.  So brave, so determined.   
My kitchen cupboard is covered with precious cards from Alice, and when she wasn’t able to write herself, she dictated thank you cards to her wonderful friend, also Alice, who I thank from the bottom of my heart for all her love and support.
Alice was my beautiful daughter … and I’m so proud of that.  Her dad and I used to say that she was ‘the icing on the cake’ coming after Lucy and Arthur.  She was a precious sister, niece, grand-daughter, cousin and she loved our dog Bramble. She adored her nephew Luke and niece Julia Alice, she was the God-daughter of her beloved Uncle Kniff and my cousin Tamsin, god-mother to Douggie and Otto, but even more than all of these she was a dear and loyal friend, and beloved partner.  Francis I’m so grateful to all you have given and done for Alice.  She loved you with all her heart.
We’re going to miss Alice so, so much. She hoped in her heavenly home and we’re happy that she’s at peace now after her illness but she wants so much to be remembered, so please always talk about her, always remember her and keep her alive in our hearts.  Sleep tight sweet pea.  Love you forever.