If any of us could be called one of the boys it was Julie... Jules, as she was known in the village, or just Ju to us. Not that anyone could mistake her for a boy, with her generous curves, her pale skin and her platinum blonde hair. Except maybe when she was swathed neck to toe in her leathers and straddling her Cagiva. That's a motorbike, by the way... not a 'sub'! She had that subtle swagger that comes with complete self-assurance, and a steady, dismantling gaze that would stop you in your tracks, strip your soul naked and turn your tummy into instant Angel Delight. But she was the kindest person and would do anything to help a friend - or a stranger - in real need. It was partly the Cagiva that took her from us two years ago this week. And partly me. One evening Ju came by to give me cuddles and consolation in return for coffee and cake. She was on her way to Salisbury to see Jamie, my ex girlfriend. Ju was scared for me, and thought she could persuade Jamie not to leave me alone in the pathetic state I was in. But the A338 north of Ringwood is a deceiving, dangerous road - she never made it to Salisbury, or anywhere else. It's not so far from the truth to say that she gave her life trying to save mine. So this is in remembrance of the strongest, sweetest, sexiest woman I have ever known, and probably ever will. To those who believe what I believe, she is beyond knowledge. So it can only be for my own sake that, two years later, here I am standing quite naked out on the bustling street of this virtual city, admitting to myself and saying to no-one in particular, but to anyone who cares... I love you, Ju.