Eulogy by her daughter, Sophie

Valerie Fenwick, my mother, was an astonishing character born Valerie Howard Foulkes in 1936. She remembered happy toddler years in Ruislip, with frequent visits to the bomb shelter during the start of the Blitz. She was evacuated with her baby brother and mother to the Devon countryside, partly to help her badly injured and shell shocked father recuperate from Dunkirk. Nevertheless, he was soon off with the Royal Marines again training people up in Tenby for the D Day landings. 

Valerie discovered in her childhood countryside rambles, a love of the outdoors and examining things on the ground. She met a famous Egyptologist who inspired her. By age 11 she was off across the country alone, joining archaeological excavations during her Summer holidays. Her fearsome and capable mother arranged her accommodation with local families.

Valerie worked ferociously hard at school to be able to study Classics at Cambridge, where women were only allowed to make up 10% of the student body. Once there she had a fine old time. She made snazzy dinners for her guests using only her tiny Baby Belling stove that frequently shorted the power supply at Newnham College, which she loved. Her seam-stressing skills came in handy to be able to afford to go to the balls. When on her way to one such ball, she popped in on a don to finalise an application for a bursary. The learned woman exclaimed “you can hardly need funding if you can afford a dress like that!”. Once Valerie explained the offcuts and reuse of furnishing fabric that made up the dress she was awarded the bursary on the spot for her ingenuity. I believe that funding took her on a dream post-graduation exploration of the archaeology of Greece and Corfu, one of the most magical adventures in her life.