This morning I played the Marvin Gaye CD that Malcolm & Ruth bought me for my 18th birthday. 

My formative years were filled with Malcolm, who was there in the bar when I came down in the morning and often still there when I went up to bed. 

But Malcolm was different, (I think we all know that)  He was different to me because he really listened to me and asked me sensible questions that most adults didn't. And when I got older, he stopped me doing things that I shouldn't do, for which I am forever thankful.

We shared a bus trip into Milton Keynes once when I was about 14. I was happy to see someone I knew on the bus. I think he was too as he shared the brandy he had with me.

I lost track of the obscure and bizarre items I found to sell him. Hippy ties and a How to Speak Persian LP boxset I recall. He sold his fair share of old magazine and books to me too. 

Dave Ridley and Malcolm painted our house once. Malcolm took a step back to look at the paintwork to see if he'd covered it all.  Shame he was up a stepladder at the time...  This was just before the accidental spearing of himself on the safety pin on his dungarees, to such a degree that Dave had to extract it... they were like Laurel & Hardy!

I have a few of his drawings, scribbled down on whatever he had to hand in the pub.  I will treasure them always.

Cheers for the laughs Malcolm. Raise Hell!