I found out this morning that it was confirmed that the body found in Croatia was that of Britt Lapthorne. I haven’t mentioned Britt on this blog, because to be honest? Over the last few months, the writing here has sounded like one big pity party. I was sick of writing it; you were all sick of hearing it.

I’m mentioning her now because her death has been confirmed, and I wanted to mark the occasion, I suppose. I wanted to mark the date, so that people know that Britt meant something to me, made an impact on my life. I have so few memories of her, but they are all wonderful.

Britt and I were cousins* on my father’s side. I distinctly remember her convincing me to sing karaoke at a relative’s birthday party when we were just tiny little girls. Later on, we wrote letters back and forth, but by the time we were thirteen, we had moved so much that it was impossible to stay in contact.

The week before Britt’s disappearance, I had started actually using my Facebook account. She was on my list of people to find and add, but I hadn’t searched for her yet. I heard the news on the radio a few days later. Mum and I knew straight away that it was her, but it wasn’t until this morning that I really faced it.

From all accounts, Britt had grown into an awesome young woman, and I wish I’d had the chance to get to know her again. I’ll always remember her as that little girl urging me to get up on stage and sing; I hope I can live as much as she did during her lifetime, and I know that Mum and I will never forget her.

* Second cousins, I think, by marriage. We never clarified; as far as we were concerned, we were just cousins.