When I met Sally Scott, my name was Julia Morss. We grew up together, as our parents were best friends. Our dads played rugby together in Sanderstead, not far from Croydon, south of London. My brother Nigel was the same age as Tim, Sally’s brother. Sally, born in January 1966, was just over a year older than I.

We saw each other just about every other weekend at the Rugby Club. I remember those days like it was yesterday. When Sally’s family moved to America in 1975, we went to see them off aboard the Queen Elizabeth 2 cruise ship. The next year, in 1976, we traveled to Long Island NY to stay with them for a month. My stay with Sally had such an effect on me that I cried for months after I returned to England. We wrote to each other over the years and I’m so glad I kept the letters.

When Sally moved back to Croydon after the motorcycle death of her boyfriend Cisco in 1987, I was living in Croydon and we quickly became very close again, for which I am forever grateful. We used to have such a giggle, and her laugh was amazing. We had decided we were going to move in together and had called her mum Shirley to say Sally had a surprise to tell her when she saw her.

I miss Sally every day and have tattoos in her memory. I have also written some poems about how I feel and the impact of losing Sally in such an awful way.

I was so happy to have a relationship with Sally’s mum Shirley, although I know at first she found that difficult. My mum went with Shirley to Lockerbie and I’m so glad they got to do that together ❤️. I haven’t been myself, but I will definitely go.

I know that Sally and Cisco are together. That brings me comfort. And I talk to her nearly every day. I wish she could know me now and how different my life would have been had this atrocity not happened.

Love you, Sally. XXXX