Clive was my younger brother. He was a massive pain in the arse at times; he was a distant brother and a disinterested uncle ……but he was a marvel, an inspiration and the only person who has ever made me feel competitive. Despite the fact that we both left home at 17 and rarely met after that, Clive has had a greater influence on my life than anyone else. I can’t explain the connection we had but somehow we needed each other to be in the world in order to become our true best selves. I only went to university because he did and I only became a musician because he was. In a very real sense I owe him my lovely life.

Clive could sail boats, fly planes and play the guitar and piano beautifully. He was a professional piano restorer and lived on a magnificent houseboat called Waterlily with a yurt on his mooring. He was effortlessly cool.

My school memories include him running across the field backwards in rugby when told he couldn’t run forwards with the ball….and scoring a try. This sums up his mischievous, disruptive spirit and the ease with which he could do anything he set his mind to.

He could be coldly selfish if he thought his freedom was threatened and warmly embracing to those who made his life fulfilled. He walked the Camino and bathed naked in the sea. He stood up to hypocrites and bullies and was never cowed or influenced by power. Clive did Clive – often in polyester, and he was wonderful.

Clive inconsiderately drowned on holiday in Turkey aged 39. I don’t think I will ever be at peace with that and I will always be a little lost. I have no idea what he would have thought about being part of the pyramid, and I obviously can’t ask him, so once again I’m letting him lead the way – and I will follow, with my own brick, when I’m good and ready.

Christa the sister x