I don’t remember this but I’m reliably informed that, as very young children, Emma insisted on having the bottom bunk in our shared room and managed the risk of me weeing on her in the night by taking an umbrella to bed.   She went to ballet as a very young girl and, because I wanted to be with her, I went too and the class danced to "thank heavens for little girls, and Owen", something she always found funny.  My earliest vivid memory of us two together is being sat on the top stair at home, I must have been quite young, things weren’t going so well for either of us for whatever reason and she had her arms around me and was trying her hardest to make it better. She was good at that.

In what must have been her last year at primary school, Emma was cast as Mary in the lead role of the school Christmas play, which involved singing a solo. Her bravery was striking then and at many points throughout her life. I really admired it. 

We both worked hard to swindle our parents into getting kittens; Emma defined the tactics - she always did that, she was the most clever - and once we succeeded nobody could “not see” cat sick and dead birds in the house as well as she managed not to.  We used to have to go to great lengths to get to the school bus stop without one of the cats following us all the way.  We often missed the bus and, because we lived out in the sticks, had to ring dad at work to come and collect us.   

I've always been pleased we were born so close together as we've been able to be part of each others lives and share friends in a way that's not so easy with a big age gap.  Neither of us was the most confident at school but I think she did a better job of being herself and she was well liked and made some very good friends (a lack of confidence left her completely blind to the obvious attentions of boys; she seemed shocked when I told her not so long ago how many of the boys I knew had fancied her!).  We were quite different though, she being much harder working and less selfish; I recall being incensed at her lack of willingness to tolerate Public Enemy at full volume when she was revising for her GCSE exams, up to the point she threw my tape across the room. For the same reason she once locked me out of the house and I’ve often - deservedly - had to dodge flying fruit.

She did brilliantly at school and university, of course.  She invited me up to stay with her in her first year at Aston; the transition from Newark to her digs in a tower block in the middle of Birmingham, surrounded by flyovers, was a culture shock.  She's subsequently said that she found it very hard but I didn't see that at the time; she and her friends took me out in Birmingham and she left me in the care of Darryl Flynn - another much missed friend -  in the Student Union bar when she had lectures.  Her intelligence and determination carried her through University and Nick Burton and I were so proud to be at her graduation.  She was so proud, ultimately, to complete her doctorate and to become Dr Price; a fantastic and well deserved achievement.  

Emma's diligence as a Saturday employee of W H Smith got me through the door there too; the management knew what they were doing as she had the plum job in the record department - having much fun with Nicola Peace in the Book department I've now learned from a different post on this site! - and I was tucked away in the dark storeroom.  At a memorable staff Christmas party I set fire to the table decorations and she found this utterly hilarious even though we were very nearly ejected.  That said, she did a good job of letting me know when I was being an idiot and a favourite picture from Wozza and Charlotte Warren's wedding is a good illustration of this skill in action.

Emma was so clever, sharp and witty and was always fantastic company.  She had a lot of time for a puerile joke and I can recall being absolutely doubled up with her watching Bo Selecta and Austin Powers.  She was renowned for giving funny nicknames and I was always "the weevil" or “Evil one”.

Emma's had more than her fair share of difficult times; I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals with her, through tricky operations on her hips and following an awful that happened when she, Clippo and I were in a pub in Lincoln, in which she badly injured her hand. These were big things, but she got on with it and worked so hard to stay well and make her scars better. She managed to graduate with her arm and hand in plaster and to get herself up the aisle very glamorously on a walking stick to marry Matt on a very happy day that I won't forget. 

At the point Emma had decided that she was serious about Matt she arranged for Wozza and I to meet them in a pub in Nottingham so we could check him out.  Why on earth she wanted our opinions I shall never know; I think we both felt very protective of her and it was quite anticlimactic when he turned out to be very likeable.

When Emma lived in Rugby after university I stayed with her often and she once threw a very memorable party that created some very funny stories me and my friends still laugh about.  It was mostly me staying with her because she was the better host and I think her lifetime commitment to good hygiene made the prospect of staying with me when I was in my 20's much less than attractive. When she and Matt first rented together in Nottingham I worked not far from their house, and I have amazing memories of many lovely evenings dropping by for an impromptu takeaway and for the hilarious stories about their extrovert neighbours. 

Emma and Matt bought a house together in Rugby at a time I was still squandering all my money in Newark nightclubs, it seemed very grown up.  I stayed with them often and always felt very secure and at home and Matt became part of my group of close friends, something I was always very pleased about. When Vanessa and I got married, Emma had spent hours making a beautiful cross stitch sampler as a gift.  We gave our youngest daughter Emma's name; Ottilie Emma Cooper. 

I remember the excitement when Elissa was born; Vanessa and I raced over to the hospital to see them and I can still picture how happy and knackered Emma was.   Edward’s birth was a similarly lovely experience, as was her joy at having a family she adored and which reflected the one she grew up in.

When dad became terminally ill I had moved away from the midlands so I spent a lot of time staying with Emma as we visited him in hospital. I think we did a good job of supporting each other through an incredibly distressing that I remain sad to think that she spent the rest of her life struggling to find peace with.

In recent times, I was so lucky to have Emma living closer to me and she made great efforts to arrange for our families, or just us, to meet up for lunch, walks and sometimes for dinner in London.   She made sure Edward and Elissa were close to my children, and she used to tell them lots of fanciful stories of my sillier exploits so they would feel close to me too.  I'm pleased that this is the case and I'll do my best to keep her memory alive for them; it's a memory that's well worth keeping alive. 

Emma was the best big sister and I love her. I'm so sad that we won't grow old together but I am grateful for the 45 years she was part of my life.    Goodbye Em.