so I've been better," which is the type of dark humour our families love. When my brother asked him how he was, Kevin said "Well, I'm dying. He got sicker and sicker but never lost his charm or his twinkly eyed jokes. But the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer came like a punch to the stomach. After all this was Kevin: he'd been ever constant, strong and reliable. So when Kevin first got sick, I wasn't worried. Goode as his cue to finish his pint and head home before the Friday night revelling got too wild. Kevin knew their set well and he used Johnny B. Liz's brother Jim was in a band, playing locally at pubs and bars, and we'd often all go together to see them. Our parents felt interchangeable at times – we stayed at each other's houses for sleepovers and even shared a holiday in France when we got rained out of our campsite. The world's kindest man, always a twinkle in the eye, and a little joke over a cup of tea. Probably not quite ready to face the music back at home. After getting into trouble one night, it was Liz's dad my brother rang rather than ours. We went to the same schools and even our brothers were best friends too. Liz is the youngest with three brothers, and I'm the youngest with two brothers. As legend would have it, her mum visited mine when I was first born, felt inspired and created me a best friend. Our families grew up together, sharing childcare during school pick-ups or holidays. Conveniently just up the hill, past the village hall and the church, lived Liz.