Pete was a truly wonderful, kind and funny man.  The last time we were all together was just over 2 years ago at Hoath House and, like all the times before, Pete had us in hysterics.  I can't fully remember the surreal joke he told about Beethoven other than it being about beans, a piano and the way he repeatedly shouted, "Vhaat?"  But, what I do remember is that, as usual, he captivated the room and everyone laughed and laughed.

I am full of regret to have not spent more time with Janet and Pete in the past 20 something years, but I hope wholeheartedly that Janet realises just how important her and Pete have always been to me.

My childhood and early adulthood memories of time spent with them both  are incredibly special to me. 

Some of these memories are whole family ones.  Christmas was not Christmas until we'd all been to Janet and Pete's.  When the school holidays came around, Fridays were often at Ramsden and then Luxted Road, while Nan had her hair done.  And, when somebody needed a garden make-over, Ground Farce were to hand. Even now, I do not know who Ethel was and why she had to be mooned at, but it was hilarious nevertheless.

Obviously, I don't actually remember Pete saving my life when I was a baby, but I do remember the increasingly absurd retellings of the story, often involving crocodiles and sharks.  I don't know how old I was when he let me have a go on his ride-on lawnmower, but I remember my abject fear of being in control of a vehicle for the first time and him coaching me through it until it became far too much for either of us to bear.  I don't know which route we took to Bromley Registry Office, but I remember how thankful I was that he was a special part of such a perfect day.

I also know that I am very fortunate to have spent a whole year working for Pete back in the mid '90s.  At first, I shadowed my exceptionally organised and capable mum. Then, I did my best to keep the office side of things in order in her absence. 

Each day, I'd rock up in some ridiculously short skirt and try to be useful.  I was rubbish at making tea and coffee (Pete always made a gagging sound when presented with my efforts), I didn't really understand the intricacies of Anime, and I would blush furiously at clients and contributors alike.  Yet, it was time I cherished as I got to be with Pete, watching in awe as he poured his heart and soul into something he believed in and worked so hard for.  Regardless of how diffcult the day was, we always had such a good laugh. 

Every single time we walked through the unfamiliar-to-me streets of London, Pete took delight in tricking me at the very last moment by side-stepping round a corner as I carried on straight ahead.  This was always with a cheeky grin and often whilst we were mid-conversation. At the Anime conventions, he'd always meet my eye as we marvelled at the many grown men dressed up as Japanese school girls.  Every mailing day, we sealed up then lugged dozens of pristine magazines down the many flights of stairs in Mortimer Street to the post office round the corner.

Although this was my first job, it never felt like a chore as each day I was working side-by-side with an uncle I truly adored.

To this day, because of Pete, I cannot watch Pink Panther movies without finding Peter Sellers even funnier as I remember Pete's insanely accurate impression of Inspector Clouseau.  Thanks to Pete, I find it difficult not to call eggs 'deggs' in front of anyone outside of family.  And, in honour of Pete, when I am teaching children correct grammar, I am desperate to say 'is' and 'am' instead of 'a' and 'an'.

I was naive enough to believe that saying goodbye to my Uncle Pete was something that just would not happen, but I carry with me the knowledge that his smile, his laugh and his unwavering kindness will never be forgotten.  I will sorely miss him telling me - always with a grin and followed with a hug - that I was "a great disappointment" to him.  I always knew that he loved me.  I just hope he knew how much I loved him, too xxx