Larry and I were born a few months apart in 1940, myself in the aftermath of the Dunkirk evacuation and Larry at the height of the Battle of Britain.  We both spent our boyhoods in or near London, and both went up to Bangor to follow a zoology degree, he a year behind me. As undergrads, we hardly knew each other, though I was aware of him as a figure swooping about the streets of Bangor on his drop-handle bard bike. 

Following graduation, in successive years, we found ourselves working under the supervision of Dr T B Reynoldson, who was then the go-to man for British freshwater triclads (flatworms).  In ensuing years, we both failed to carve out a career in research (though Larry did become National Recorder for freshwater flatworms).  Instead, we both spent virtually the whole of our working lives teaching biology in Further Education.

In 2014, I moved to Cardiff, and by then Larry was in Newnham, so we got to meet up once or twice a year.  Usually, we rendezvoused at a castle or National Trust property.  The meet-ups always featured a pub lunch, and more often than not, Larry would don waders and terrorise the local flatworm population with his pond net.  By last October, we had run out of castles, so Larry suggested that we could, in fact, go straight to the pub.  We met in the carpark opposite Tintern Abbey, and had lunch at the pub which lay in the corner of the car park.  After a short walk, I presented him with some plants for his garden, some rather pretty short Japanese anemones.  We shook hands, and that was the last time I was to see him.  I believe he planted the anemones, but sadly will not be able to see them flower this coming October