Issy Spaven Donn

“I don’t have a first memory of Chris, because I remember him as just always being there. From family walks on just the most dreich days on the Pentlands to the numerous parties where us awkward teenagers would gather in the sitting room or kitchen of whoever’s turn it was to host in their Morningside home, pretending to be far cooler than we were.

We found ourselves next door neighbours at Cambridge, and not only that - faculty mates as well in the dingy corridors of the crusty wonder that was the Faculty of Oriental Studies. I’ll remember Chris in the library where often we’d bump into each other and destress with a chat; on the stairs where he would be a reminder of home for me and we’d have a quick chat between classes. And of course at those sticky cringe Cambridge club nights with the Robinson and Newnham crews.

I’ll remember him on the day we celebrated our last exams - we ended up singing karaoke into the night with the Chinese and Arabic cohorts of our year from Oriental Studies. And I’ll remember him on the day of our graduation when we all had dinner on the banks of the Cam in the gorgeous evening sunshine, having done the Senate House thing on the same day.

Invariably when we were at Cambridge, he would tell me not to bother with a language like French and to do something more future-forward like Hindi or Chinese, along with Arabic. He was, unsurprisingly, right about that. But of course when he found out I was moving to India, he had nothing but excellent advice and threw in a few good Hindi phrases for me to know.

I was so impressed with his Better Together campaign role and he was so passionate about his work there that I easily supported with my own ‘virtual’ rock addition for the cairn from Mumbai when he asked me to.

I’ll remember laughing with him at Edinburgh Christmas drinks, walking with him around the reservoir chatting about our various paths and how they still crossed now and again, and then last at my wedding brunch, easily catching up with a few of our mutual friends and sharing in the joy of the day. I will miss him.”