This was just one description of Lady Madge Moseley at her funeral in Cambridge today. It was precisely apt. Determined – that things would be done her way. But her skills of influence over other people were persuasive and her case passionately put. Her advocacy probably developed during Madge’s time as a civil service trade unionist. Her belief in the common good almost certainly stemmed from the post-war social democratic consensus for setting up the NHS and extending university education to people like Madge. She had no time for the post-Thatcher ethos of the powerful and strong taking most.

Madge was 90 when she died in July. I first met Madge James just about 30 years ago when she was married to Jimmy James. Local meetings of the then new SDP were held at the James’s home. They lived at a place called Windyridge in Widdington near Saffron Walden. Jimmy died in 1984. In the late 80s Madge was remarried to one of her former adversaries from across the civil service negotiating table, Sir George Moseley, by then retired and also widowed.

Both were strong and active supporters of what by then had become the Liberal Democrats. They hosted garden parties at their home, Churchmead, also in Widdington. Madge was the mainstay of Lib Dem literature distribution in the village. She had a way of persuading even apolitical people (and even traditional Conservatives) in the village that they needed to help her get the Focuses out. In later years and until her own health began to fail, Madge threw herself into advocacy bodies in Essex that supported the needs of older people, especially their health needs. I don’t think she ever got to grips with the coalition government’s health structure, but that seems also to be beyond the comprehension of people far younger than Madge.

Though her home remained in Widdington to the end, Madge had several spells of residence at Hargrave House in Stansted in the past three years. It was always a pleasure to walk round to chat about the latest controversy emerging from Westminster – especially if it didn’t seem to Madge to be for the common good. Madge hadn’t lost her cutting edge for incisive criticism, though this would be tempered by a raised eyebrow from George if he was on his daily visit from Widdington.

It was said at today’s funeral service that in the days when Sir George, who died in the autumn of 2011, was permanent private secretary to the minister at Whitehall, he would exclaim from time to time “That bloody woman”! Even in retirement and after the marriage of these two widowed former across-the-table adversaries, I picked up the same gentlemanly vibes on more than one occasion.

That’s what made life around Madge Moseley so bloody interesting. I will miss her company dearly.