I was in Hall house and later School house with Tim.

He wasn’t my close friend, but he was someone I always respected and liked. If I’m honest, he was a bit too cool for me.

Tim stood out. Even after we left school, he was one of those people you found yourself thinking about from time to time. You couldn’t really miss him. He was good-looking, athletic, talented, and carried himself with an ease that drew people in.

We were brought together on a few occasions. Getting gated for drinking (more than once), sneaking out to Derby. And through an unlikely connection we shared with someone who was openly himself at a time when that wasn’t easy. There was a lot of talk back then about who was most admired. Tim, unsurprisingly. But what stayed with me was his confidence and his easy acceptance of him as a good lad. That helped me more than he ever knew.

Twice, once in school, and more recently Tim’s openness about his experience with cancer prompted me to get tested myself.

What I remember most about Tim, though, is his kindness. School isn’t easy for everyone, and there were times when I struggled. When others joined in with unkindness, Tim was reliably the last to do so.

I only saw Tim once after university. We bumped into each other in a bar in Manchester. He grilled me about my life with genuine curiosity, and then, without prompting, went out of his way to apologise for a moment in the past when he knew he hadn’t been his best.

That is how I will remember Tim.

Not perfect, like all of us. But genuinely kind.

We chatted online before he passed. I was glad to get to say goodbye, though I’m sure I didn’t say or ask enough.

He was a good man, and he will not be forgotten.