But Jean Stewart was one such, and her death at 83 has been much mourned by many in the north-east of Scotland.

“There gangs Jean Stewart,” one local once observed as she sped along in her ancient A30 van. “In 20 minutes she’ll either be in hell or Towie.”

In fact, she was a remarkably good driver, though as another observed ruefully, she probably saw more accidents than she was involved in.

But it would be wrong to dismiss Jean Stewart as just being an ancient, feisty eccentric who drove fast, for she was not only a successful author, she was also a teacher, lawyer and political activist of distinction who achieved a huge amount through sheer grit and determination, often fighting valiantly against significant odds.

Jean Hazel Cantlie Stewart was born in Edinburgh the daughter of the equally feisty Admiral Sir James Cantlie who ran Rosyth naval dockyard during the war .

Some say she was expelled from her school after squirting a tray-carrying chamber maid with a water pistol, but it was a charge she always denied.

Bright and passionately focused, she matriculated into St Andrews aged only 16 and, on graduation, spurned offers of research positions as she was anxious to make a contribution to the war effort.

After a few jobs in the Red Cross, she married, in 1952, the late Robin Stewart – Indian Army, retired – but her fiercely independent nature was not suited to that institution and shortly after the birth of the couple’s only child, Hugh, she divorced in 1954 with her military-minded

husband observing sadly that Jean “had little understanding of the concept of obedience”.

Being a single, divorced mother is never an easy task and was particularly so in the early fifties, but she buckled down to trying to earn a few pounds as a freelance journalist in gentlemanly magazines while living in a remote and primitive cottage in the Highlands without electricity.

Determined to improve her lot, she moved to Oxford to study teaching and soon started writing books, the imperative usually being as much financial as artistic. Typically, it was when she was asked to teach a course on mining law that she wrote the first major text on that subject.

Traditional, one-nation conservatism was her obsession and she decided to study law, as much as a way to enter politics; having qualified as a lawyer, she then stood for the Conservatives in Kirkcaldy, not a town noted for it’s Tory sympathies. While she failed in this bid, she did at least improve her party’s percentage of the vote.

Her subsequent books were many and varied. Using her own name and also a pen name of Jean Rowan, she wrote whatever it was she thought people might want to buy.

Books about the navy, the countryside, dogs, mining, devolution. It was hard slog but, along with teaching, the books paid the bills.

Jean was active until well into her early eighties and took great pleasure in watching Hugh carve out a successful career as an investment banker specialising in high-risk businesses, and indeed continuing the family’s navy tradition being one of the survivors of HMS Fittleton, which sank in 1976 after a collision with HMS Mermaid.

Her grandson Geordie ( 20) continues this family trend of dare-devilry and is half way through his attempt to be the youngest Britain to climb the highest peaks on all seven continents.