As the coffin was finally carried out to her song "You Don't Have To Say You Love Me," the mourners broke into applause. This was Dusty's last standing ovation. And she more than deserved it. Her funeral was just as it should have been - a celebration of her life.

A life marked by spectacular highs, fame and adulation - followed by troughs of despair. And, finally, the courage with which she fought breast cancer, to which she finally succumbed at the age of 59. She had, said her friend Lulu at the service, "a great gift from heaven and now it has returned to heaven".

Singing star Lulu was joined by Elvis costello, Kiki Dee, Pet Shop Boy Neil Tennant, and Lionel Blair at Sy Mary the Virgin Methodist Church in Henley, Oxfordshire. Those who couldn't be at the service senr wreaths - Elton John, Rod Stewart, Tom Jones and PJ Harvey.

At 12:10 her coffin, adorned with her name spelled out in pink and cream flowers, arrived in a horse-drawn carriage. As the coffin was carried down the aisle, the words of "Dont Forget About Me" rang out.

Her older brother and former singing partner Tom Springfield led the mourners as the Reverend David Pritchard paid tribute to "one of our most gifted singers". He said: "We are here to rejoice in the joy and inspiration she gave to her own and successive generations."

Fighting back tears, Lulu said: "Dusty was the first one to demonstrate girl power when she left the Springfields to go solo. She was shy, she was very vulnerable, but that vulnerability gave her voice a special quality. She bared her soul to the whole world through her singing and that kind of passion, emotion and willingness to bare her soul takes tremendous courage."

A fax sent by American singer Dionne Warwick read: "It seems strange to think of Dusty in the past. She was vibrant, funny, honest and so very talented. I will miss her."

Born Mary O'Brien in Hampstead, north-west London, Dusty formed her first group, The Springfields, with her brother Tom. But in 1963 she went solo and her first release, "I Only Want To Be With You," was an instant success in Britain and America.

With her blonde beehive hair and panda-shadowed eyes, she was one of pop's most instantly- recognisable stars. But it was Dusty's voice that set her apart, and she was among the first British singers to champion the sound of black America.

American singer Nona Hendrix, who was a close friend of Dusty, told the congregation: "When I first heard Dusty's voice it was a bitter-sweet sound, a sound that touched my heart. When I met the person later I came to know and love her for a completely different reason. She was fun and a real prankster. We had a lot of laughs."

The Dusty that Neil Tennant met in 1987 was a woman whose career seemed over. With the arrival of rock, her career had run aground in the late sixties and she fled to America. Despite her hit "Son-Of-A Preacherman," her self-confidence drained away and she turned to drink. But her hit "What Have I Done To Deserve This?" with the Pet Shop Boys won her a new generation of fans.

Neil said: "Dusty was fab. When I was growing up in the sixties, Dusty was the very essence of fabness - her hair, the eyes. It gave me a funny feeling listening to her voice. When she agreed to do the record our company wasn't very keen. They said to us, 'can't you find someone a bit more up to date?' But we stuck to our guns. When we met she turned up in black leather looking like a mid-eighties diva. She said, 'What do you want me to sound like?', and she seemed rather surprised when we said, 'you'. "A lot of people thought that Dusty's life would end in some kind of tragedy, but in the end she proved everyone wrong. She was fab and, because of her music, she always will be."

Dusty, who moved back to Britain in 1994 after being told she had breast cancer [NOTE: Dusty moved back in 1989 prior to the diagnosis of breast cancer in 1994], was awarded an OBE in the New Year's Honours List this year. She was fprced to undergo surgery and months of chemotherapy and radiotherapy at the Royal Marsden Hospital, London. Her attitude was typically wry. She said: "I never expected to live this long anyway."

Her secretary, Pat Rhodes, 64, who'd worked for her since 1963, said yesterday: "I still can't believe that she has gone. My life will be empty without her. The last thing I said to her was the same thing she always said to me: 'Hang in there kiddo'."

Helen Weathers
Daily Record (Scotland),
March 13, 1999