I hesitate to write this, as I didn’t know Richard that well, having met him through being a friend and housemate of Anja’s at university. But I hope Anja won’t mind me saying that Richard was the best of her university boyfriends, and that we were all very pleased when they decided to rekindle their relationship after a short time apart while remaining friends (and Anja agonising over still liking him). I was always a little in awe of Richard at university, him being that much older and more sophisticated than us first-time students. But he was always good for a laugh and game to join in with some of our more raucous nights out (a James Bond-themed night in particular springs to mind). In fact, to some extent he was our James Bond; suave, stylish, and a true English gentleman; helped by him bearing more than a passing resemblance to Pierce Brosnan, the Bond of the nineties.
Richard the first, as he would become known to us at university, shared a house and became something of a double-act with another Richard (the second). He always had impeccable taste, and his house was immaculate compared with our scummy student lodgings. Home-renovation was something of a hobby for Richard; I remember tales of hours spent sanding wooden floorboards in the first house he shared with Anja, not to mention the loft extension project at their subsequent home in Chorlton and various grand designs in Disley. He was also an avid gardener and fellow allotmenteer; chitting potatoes in the fireplace are my particular memory of Anja and Richard’s Chorlton home.
Having moved away from Manchester after university, I was fortunate enough to be welcomed to stay with Anja and Richard during several re-union visits, at first on my own and then later with my son Alex. Alex quickly ingratiated himself into their home, making the most of being able to play with Rosie’s toys (Rosie was less impressed). During our last visit, Alex and I tagged along with Richard and Rosie for a Saturday-morning hair cut (for the children). It was lovely to witness the enjoyment of a Daddy-daughter morning out; playing loud rock music in the car on the way there, topped off with a visit to the local ice-cream parlour before heading back home. I think this was a pretty regular occurrence, as bright blue bubblegum-flavoured ice-cream was Rosie’s firm favourite.
Richard had an eclectic taste in music, from classical to punk rock, the latter of which he enjoyed sharing with Rosie, the former perhaps more so with Maddy. He also had a penchant for ‘classic’ (well, old) cars, and was exceedingly proud of his latest acquisition, an aged VW Golf. For someone who I always considered to be quite ‘posh’ he was something of a socialist, and while I’m not sure he’d appreciate the term ‘champagne socialist’, he did like the odd glass of champagne. Most of all, he was a kind and generous person, and a loving husband and father.
Goodbye Richard, you will be missed, and you will always be our James Bond.