When somebody close to you dies, memories float in and out of the mind at the most unexpected, inappropriate times. I could be singing a song on a live TV programme and suddenly I would see Brian’s face as clear as day, and remember moments we had shared together - a laugh here, a giggle there. Or I would be sitting at home reading and suddenly I’d recall things that people had said about him, when for instance Ringo declared, ‘Brian was great. You could trust Brian. He was a lot of fun and he really knew his records. We used to have a game with him where we’d say “Okay - c’mon, Brian, what as the B side?” and he always knew the answer. Then we’d say, “OK - what number did it reach?” and he’d tell us. He was amazing. He had a mind like an encyclopaedia.’ Or when Paul said, ‘Brian would have been really happy if he could have heard how much we all loved him.’