Some Alan memories by some of his children

Alan

To begin at the beginning, his mother Isabella was one of 13 children and had noticed his father Ernest, because he had charismatic way of walking with a cane. This must have singled him out in Sunderland.

He was the last of four boys, Ernie, Eric, Leslie and his older sister Joyce. At the time you could be beaten at school for asking questions, but he never stopped asking or demanding that something happen. He experienced being evacuated but hated it. He was at home in a community.

As an adolescent he went out to the library swathed in scarves, looking mysterious - he hoped, but in fact this was to hide spots. So he did care about his appearance and all his life he was always handsome and striking.

Alan was the first in his family, and his street, to go to university and Oxford at that. The war helped and he arrived mistaken as a Welshman at Jesus College, in a home made blueish suit that was seen as hilarious, but made him life long friends. There his writing began to be published.

Each marriage was the best.

His first wife, Pamela, was not a Geordie nor an Oxford graduate, but a Home Counties hairdresser who blew smoke-rings and loved him. His second wife, Nancy, was an American; clever, adventurous and at the same time practical. She could fly a plane and once dived into the Thames at Cliveden to rescue a weekend guest's child. In 1952, she accompanied Gershwin's Porgy and Bess to Moscow and later in life, made obscure Medieval woodwind instruments for fun. His third wife, Jill, was a fellow writer, an evacuee and a soul mate who could rely on Alan for a complete lack of candour or worship and helped when she was depressed. Wife number four, Jane, a writer and art historian, can find marvels in skips, is passionate and irreverent and taught him about plants, landscapes, sculpture and all the arts. Their travels and adventures took them from a honeymoon in the Seychelles, to a silent retreat in the hills of Sri Lanka. For fourteen years, Jane and Alan clocked up hours at top speed on the motorway to visit stately homes and rugged countryside up and down England. Without Jane his life could easily have fizzled out.

Alan, as you know, had a huge appetite.. for life, love and all its sensual pleasures, none too small to be written about. At the same time he didn’t tell you what he felt or how he felt about you - he accepted that you as his child, wife, friend, carer or grandchild were generally OK.

As a child, if you finished your pudding in a restaurant he ordered you another, telling us that we could have the best bit first - he didn’t defer things in case there was no second chance. At the same time he left things to last minute, didn’t plan, had no carefully put together pension plan, no savings and very few possessions, apart from books.

His taste was a mystery, as he seemed to like whatever we liked. He liked the elements, fire, water and even snow - though he sent off for some snowshoes, in the winter of 1962, which dragged his feet into drifts - he was not defeated or dumped by mistakes.

Alan didn’t complain about his health or make us feel guilty. He could be infuriating and selfish, but also immensely optimistic and politically committed.

Alan hated people or animals being exploited and stood up once to complain at kangaroos with boxing gloves being made to fight each other at a circus.

He told all sorts of stories, and could speak Shakespearean or Biblically and knew who all the actors were in films, ancient and modern. If he was moved, he cried; sometimes dramatically in the theatre and as a critic he would sit in the fourth row in an aisle seat, so he could dash to the phone box before his rivals and send in a review, with all the grammatical instructions, open para....capital letter.

He was attractive to women, and even recently, he would come to life and smile hugely at his granddaughter or at the young physiotherapist trying to get him to walk again. He impressed those doing a six monthly mini-mental state exam, by telling them how the florid illusions he had were ‘free cinema’ and managing to remember the name of the mental health nurse, it was Brian.

His pain threshold was high, both emotionally and physically but he didn’t hit out or retaliate. He was strong and very protective too.

Alan, we will miss you.