In the summer of 1959 I travelled with my parents from Redcar to Reading, where we stayed with our McGrory cousins. While I was nearly 11, Chris would have been around 14 so seemed a glamorous teenager to me! He and his younger brother Roger had rigged up a simple trap from their bedroom window and they managed to catch a hedgehog. The next morning they introduced me to the delights of peanut butter and jam on toast for breakfast. That's something that I still have often. Many years later,  in Bury,  Chris introduced me to a single malt whisky that was so old it tasted like cough mixture! I managed a few sips!