For me, losing a friend as good and loyal as Mike has left an empty space. Following my move South three years ago, our relationship became a long-distance one; carried out by a flurry of somewhat frantic emails at the end of each month, when what we both called ‘the dreaded deadline’ for copy for our Star loomed.
I guess you could define our friendship as a literary one. We shared a love of words and writing but often wandered down some sidetracks as well: politics, current affairs, history, and local activities appeared often, and missing Martinborough became less of an issue for me as a result.
Mike’s patience, tolerance, sharp wit and enthusiasm meant a great deal to me. You couldn’t ask for more than that. I now understand more fully the meaning of ‘bereft’. I shall miss him.
