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Farewell to the first lady

Mary Lavender St Leger Patten descends the white stone staircase beside her ballroom, her slight frame dwarfed by its colonial grandeur, and makes her way past workmen noisily drilling holes to replace pictures on the bare walls where her own artworks once hung.

Fresh from lunch with Chief Secretary Anson Chan Fang On-sang, she is in high spirits. She enjoys Mrs Chan's company, is looking forward to rebuilding a family home and, best of all, the packing is finished. The removers have tissue-wrapped her responsibilities and carted away her headaches.

'That was a nightmare. I suppose it always is,' she grins. 'We kept discovering more things which we'd forgotten. It's just amazing what you find you've accumulated over a relatively short time.

'I used to wake up at 6 am and mentally do lists. There were some agonising decisions: 'Do we really want this - and where are we going to send it?' We're sending some to France and some to England.' As the 13-metre-long container of Patten family goodies heads for Europe, Mrs Patten is indeed more relaxed. Her beloved terriers, Whisky and Soda, which have scooted around the ankles of many a distinguished guest, will begin their journey to the couple's French country home tonight.

She is negotiating the purchase of a semi-detached house between Putney and Barnes in southwest London, a far cry from the expanses of Government House, its tennis court, swimming pool and gardens.

The sale is expected to be completed in September while the couple unwind in France, and Mrs Patten is convinced that life in a Putney semi-detached - with resident dogs and visiting daughters - will be 'very normal'.

'There is quite a bit of common for the dogs, not far from the river,' she says. 'I'll probably go over to England a fair amount . . . I'll be looking after it and getting a few things done for it.' Just a few days short of their fifth anniversary in Hong Kong, the Pattens are preparing to leave the constantly spinning world of political jousting for their secluded cottage 'in the middle of nowhere' an hour's drive from the southern city of Toulouse. They bought the home a couple of years ago and have already moved in their Chinese elmwood furniture and lacquerwork.

'We'll miss a lot of friends . . . the excitement, that buzz and bustle Hong Kong has,' Mrs Patten says. 'I'm not sure anywhere else in the world has it in quite the same way. Perhaps in New York you get a bit of it.

'I think you only have to look around Hong Kong and see how well it's doing, the confidence in the economy and the confidence among most people. I really do think that shows that it all actually worked, the five years we've been here.

'I hope that it will all continue. Hong Kong people were promised a steady progress to democracy in the Joint Declaration and the Basic Law. After living in a period in which democracy has increased, I'm sure they will insist on those promises being upheld.' The Pattens will leave shortly after midnight tomorrow with 'some Chinese furniture, some antique pots and figures, some pictures we've bought . . . a lot more books' and a sea of memories.

There have been colourful and stinging insults catapulted from Beijing, strolls along Hollywood Road to collect the antiques, furniture and statuary now bound for Europe, hospital vigils when Chris Patten's blocked heart arteries were widened and while daughter, Laura, recovered from an emergency appendectomy shortly after the family arrived.

There was Alice's first day at Island School, when mother and daughter made their way past press and curious schoolmates hand in hand. There was the mercy dash to a Wan Chai vet after Whisky wolfed down a poisoned chicken wing during a walk on Bowen Road, Soda's early four-day disappearance and the unfortunate observation by Australia's then foreign minister Gareth Evans that the pooch could have become hors d'oeuvres for Deng Xiaoping.

But there has also been the day-to-day job of being Hong Kong's first lady: the charities, handshakes and support for AIDS victims, annual stints selling Helping Hand cookies, visiting hospitals, schools and workshops for the disabled, and the board meetings, balls and publicity work that go with being patron of 55 bodies.

'If you come and live somewhere completely different, you're bound to learn a lot about the ways other people live, work and see things. Both of us have learned a lot, seeing how people operate in Hong Kong,' Mrs Patten says. 'It was a big change for us, and a very positive one. We came after a difficult experience back in Britain [when, as Conservative Party chairman, Chris Patten was responsible for introducing the poll tax]. I think it was a terrific thing to have done, a great honour to have been here.

'Obviously, there were political issues that Chris was having to deal with, but I never got involved in those.

'I felt that, in those matters, my position was to support Chris in the background and give a bit of tender, loving care when he needed it. There certainly were times when it was quite difficult.

'I don't think we need be too depressed about the nasty insults he had to suffer. I don't think they did any harm, either to him or to Hong Kong. We've managed to rise above them and continue thinking about Hong Kong's welfare and well-being.' As steady summer rain pelts at the windows of Government House, coating the greenery of the gardens and forming puddles beneath the eaves, Mrs Patten sinks deeper into a well-padded sofa in the drawing room scented by large jars of fragrant lilies.

'We pretty well always agree,' she says, considering issues the pair have discussed.

'There might be the odd little thing where I say' - with a stern tone and warning forefinger extended - 'Now, Chris, what about this?' Maybe he's not as enthusiastic on some issues as I am, but on broad issues we're very much in agreement.' Mrs Patten was well qualified to follow political manoeuvrings as her husband went about introducing democratic elections during the twilight of British rule, to howls of outrage from China.

She began working as a family law barrister only in 1988, and the demands of marriage to a rising Conservative politician required her to canvass for votes in the constituency of Bath and eventually pack up and move 8,000 kilometres away to a small British island off the coast of Guangdong.

Her life has not been easy. Her father, Olympic athlete John Thornton, was killed in World War II, a month before she was born 53 years ago. When she was 16, her mother died in a car crash and her stepfather and his children returned to South Africa. As her home life evaporated, Lavender concentrated on her studies, reading classics at Oxford before switching to law.

A marriage at the age of 21 lasted less than three years. Single again, Lavender met up with Chris Patten three years after they had been introduced. The couple wed in 1971 and began their family of three girls in Highgate, north London.

They will leave Hong Kong changed, their outlook forever bearing a tinge of China. The influences have emerged in their furniture, art, a couple of classical CDs and themselves, Mrs Patten says. Being first lady in a territory that expects the residents of Government House to adopt a high profile has forced her to adapt. 'I've certainly become better at public occasions,' she admits. 'In spite of being married to a British politician for many years, I've not had to do much in public. This job here is almost all public. It did take me a bit of time to gear myself up to making a lot of speeches and facing a lot of people all the time.

'I think I'm much more confident about it, and I'm sure that will stand me in good stead when I get back to England. I hope it will make it a little easier to find something to do.' The first job on the agenda, in France, is to persuade her husband to figure out how to work his word processor. Otherwise Mrs Patten is in danger of spending months typing out his handwritten notes for the much-heralded book.

'I said I might start typing for him, but I would expect him to be learning how to type as the months progressed. By the end of it I don't want to be doing any typing,' she smiles. 'He says his thoughts flow through his pen. It's a good excuse, isn't it! 'I'll wait until we're back in England to see how I want to take up my career again.

'I certainly like being involved in the law, but the problem with being a junior barrister - which is what I was when I left - is that it's a pretty hectic life. You get sent off in all directions by your clerk and you don't really have much control over what you're doing and how much time you're putting into it. I'd like to try to find something where I could be more in control, but I don't know how easy that will be. After being out of it for five years, I may find that I'm not that much in demand.' The Patten's oldest daughter Kate, having taught English in Uruguay and obtained a foothold on the rungs of the BBC production ladder, arrived in Hong Kong this month for her father's ceremonial departure.

In the midst of the afternoon's sub-tropical downpour, Kate appears at the front gate. The umbrella she shares with a friend is pitiful protection from the deluge. The pair scurry past the sentries, splashing through the puddles, and make a beeline for the massive entrance.

Once under shelter, she drops the umbrella, kicks off her sodden shoes outside the door, performs a jig in her faded green jeans and swings her dripping head to show amused reception staff the extent of her soaking.

Such are the ordinary scenes the Pattens have missed in Hong Kong: being involved in the lives of their daughters.

Alice, now 17, has lived with them throughout her father's term but Kate, 24, and Laura, 22, a beauty assistant at Harpers and Queen magazine in London who inspired newspaper headlines around the world when she arrived, mini-skirted, in Hong Kong with her parents in 1992, have been forging their own way overseas.

'In a way, the wonderful thing about Hong Kong is that it's so fast and we're all moving non-stop. But, eventually, it is rather nice to just slow down, reduce the pace, have a bit more peace and quiet,' Mrs Patten reflects.

'It will be lovely to be much closer to our family. We've been away from our two big girls quite a lot.

'That's been pretty tough, actually. The toughest thing about being here is not having regular time with them.' Alice, who finishes high school this summer, plans to take a year off, travel and work in France before studying modern languages at Cambridge or Edinburgh University.

One highlight of being first lady has been the eclectic spectrum of guests at their table. 'We've had a number of royals; we've had the Princess of Wales twice, the Princess Royal twice, Princess Alexandra.' Mrs Patten ticks them off on her fingers, trying to remember each one.

'Lady Thatcher was particularly memorable. She's always been marvellous; she's always been very supportive of Chris. Whether you agree with her on everything or not, she's such good value. One admires her for the sheer spirit that she goes at everything with.

'We've had Elton John, who came to lunch. I didn't realise he was a great tennis player: he travels with his tennis coach. He was lovely, very friendly.

'I remember Alice came home from school for lunch, she got special permission to come home. She doesn't often want to join us for our official meals, but Elton John was one of them.

'And Jeremy Irons came to dinner. He was very charming and interesting, a clever chap.' The one thing Mrs Patten hopes for now is a clear day tomorrow. 'Look at that rain,' she remarks, gazing through a window at the watery sheets veiling the garden. 'On a day like today, I'm not sure I'll miss the weather. Although . . . there's that beautiful time of year from October through to January. It couldn't be nicer anywhere in the world.' Tomorrow, the Pattens' last day in Hong Kong, promises to be exhausting. It is all due to end in the first hour of July 1, when the family board the Royal Yacht Britannia and set sail for Manila with Prince Charles.

'The prime minister will be coming in, and of course Prince Charles. It will be a busy morning of meeting people,' she says.

'We have our formal farewell here at Government House, which is going to be very difficult. I think everyone is going to be quite emotional. I know I will: I'm always very emotional at these moments.' Mrs Patten is convinced the British will deliver Hong Kong in good condition at midnight tomorrow. And her lunch companion and friend Anson Chan will guide the civil service in the best interests of the territory.

'I think she's splendid. I think she's going to make a marvellous number two. She's very strong and rock-like.

'She has very strong principles and she will act according to her principles. People like Anson are an asset to Hong Kong, to the civil service. To lose anyone like that would be very sad, but I'm sure she's determined to see it through.' It is the end of an era, she acknowledges, gazing at the high ceilings, the paintings, sideboards and curtained French windows.

Her family have been the last to call Government House home, 142 years after Sir John Bowring moved into a less imposing residence on Upper Albert Road. Her husband is the last man to have held the title of Governor of Hong Kong.

'We, the British, can feel proud of what's been done in Hong Kong,' she says. 'It has been a very good mix of Hong Kong Chinese people's entrepreneurial spirit, their hard work, their energy, along with the British institutions which have been set up here: a good civil service, the rule of law, free speech, freedom of the press.

'There is a certain sadness about it for us, leaving. But it is what has been agreed, it is what will happen, and it is an opportunity for Hong Kong to go on and become even more successful when it has its own autonomy.'

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