Long lost friend

My 90-year-old cousin, Guy Hartcup, and I were discussing our favourite 20th century authors, and I mentioned Joyce Cary as being one of mine. Guy said that he had recently picked up a very early work by Cary, the story of how as a young man he had wanted to experience warfare, and had joined the Red Cross in Serbia during the war there (1915-1918). I asked if I could borrow it, as I had also read an interesting book written by a former boss of mine, a journalist called Monica Krippner, though I had long ago lost touch with her - I was last in touch when she was working in Vienna for the Atomic Energy Authority. Guy said, "I was staying with her a few weeks ago. We worked together in Vienna. I was also instrumental in getting the book published, as I knew she'd never get round to doing it on her own!" Finding Guy was also quite a coincidence for me, as I had never met him and only vaguely knew of his existence. His surname, my mother's maiden name, is a very rare one, and I was astonished to see it in the death's column of the Times one day. His wife had just died, and the funeral was held in East Sheen, a couple of miles from where I live. I looked in the phone book, found his address and wrote to him. He rang me up, and we have been friends every since - for five or six years now. Prue Raper