I met Mary Turner once, as a delegate to a Labour party conference in the late 1980s in Blackpool. I was at the social in the evening, in the ballroom, and didn’t know anyone there, so I thought I would drink up and go. She obviously spotted that. She came over and chatted, and made me feel at home. She literally and metaphorically took my hand that evening, got me on the dance floor, and made sure I was in the fold. She knew everybody.

She was so strong in her political beliefs, and a real activist. We talked all night and her passion was palpable. I met her that one time and have never forgotten her, she fizzed and sparked like a fire cracker.