Her Story
Born in 1948 in Wolverhampton, Pauline grew up in a loving, lively household as one of six siblings. From an early age, she had a flair for style and precision — a talent she nurtured through her sewing career and expressed daily through her immaculate appearance.

In her teens, she lit up the dance floors with her best friend Angela, and it was there, in her iconic red dress, that she caught the eye of Malcolm — the man who would become her husband and best friend for 55 years. Together, they built a life filled with love, laughter, and two wonderful children, Steven and Korina, later welcoming six adoring grandchildren: Lewis, Dylan, Max, Finley, Ethan, and Erin.

Pauline was so much more than beautiful. She was brilliantly funny, cheeky, fiercely loyal, and endlessly generous. Whether it was tucking lipstick kisses into tissues for her daughter to take to school, making the grandkids giggle with slime farts, or becoming the life of every outing, Pauline gave her whole heart to those around her.

She was the fixer, the cleaner, the taxi driver, the nurse, the stylist, the friend, the laugh-til-you-cry storyteller — the glue that held everyone together.

Even in her final moments, as her strength faded, Pauline’s humour, grace, and love remained. Her last words to Malcolm — “Is my hair still OK?” and “I do love you” — captured exactly who she was: poised, full of heart, and deeply loving.

Her memory lives on not just in stories, but in every lipstick kiss tucked into a tissue, every burst of laughter at a perfectly timed one-liner, and every quiet act of love. She taught us how to live with elegance, wit, and unwavering kindness — and that is her lasting gift to us all.