I remember the deputy headmaster at Tiffins, Ted "Butch" Key, telling us we were all cynics (he meant this as a BAD THING!) "standing on the touchline of life".

I remember my uncle Geoffrey, who died last week, making us all smile and wave out of the car window as we were driven across London - I think it was to Golders Green cemetery - for the funeral of his wife, my aunt Rosemary.

I remember we used to get a train to Box Hill, walk up and down it and get the train home, just for something to do to while away an afternoon.

I remember the radio and electronics shop in Kingston Applemarket, but I can't remember its name. I only found out the other day that it had closed down!

I remember sitting one lunchtime in the back room at the White Lion in Streatham, reading my copy of Folk Roots, and I read that Peter Bellamy had killed himself.