I’ve known Andy since my family moved to Bramhall in 1965. That’s the best part of 55 years. He was the brother I didn’t have. I loved him, as best friends do, but we weren’t the generation to ever say a thing like that. I would point out that he was overweight, and he would point-out that I was spotty, with greasy hair. He called me ‘Wing Commander’ – a reference to my sticky-out ears - throughout the Sixth Form. How rude. We shared the same walk to and from primary school and discovered that we had a lot in common, particularly a silly sense of humour and a love of the natural world. I also met his family: Peter and Margaret, Euan and Catriona. Peter was a Zoologist, Margaret was a teacher and examiner in Human Biology. I loved my own mum and dad, but couldn’t help thinking that there had been a mistake in the maternity ward, and that I was really a Gabbutt. Andy was the first to get a tropical fish tank – a passion he kept up with throughout his life. He was very active in the British Killifish Association and at one time had a major interest in Maidenhead Aquatics, enviably combining his passion with his livelihood. We were pretty inseparable throughout high school. We were both deemed to be ‘of modest intellect’ at age 11 and were sent to a Secondary Modern school instead of being allowed to go to the much closer Grammar School, but we had an academic rivalry that saw us thrive. I beat him at O- level and he beat me at A-level, but we both shared the distinction of being the only two students to pass all of our A-levels and progress straight to university – the first to do so from that school. We were taught A-level biology in a class of two – a group so insignificant that we were taught in the prep room rather than taking up a whole classroom. I often wonder how life might have been different without the shared interests and rivalry we enjoyed at school. Andy was a massively important influence in my life. In many ways we were chalk and cheese but that proved to be a good basis for a lasting friendship. I saw Andy regularly throughout the university years, when he introduced me to the delights of the Curry Mile in Rusholme. Andy was much more adventurous with his cuisine and taught me a lot. We drifted apart a little - as often happens – when Andy finally got a job. A degree, a masters and a PhD postponed the inevitable but eventually, age 25, he found employment and moved down south - to Slip End, Luton, if my memory serves me. I mean, why would you? However, he thrived down south and one of his activities, Morris Dancing, not only brought him a wider social life but also the love of his life, Hester. As befitting a fertility dance, it also brought them the wonderful Freya and I had the honour of being his Best Man at their wedding, as he was mine. But the point of all this self-indulgent rambling is that he was a good man. A warm, intelligent and funny human being and I will miss him dreadfully. I’m very grateful that he was my friend.