A memory from Patrick and Sylvia Hopton

We first met David some thirty years or so ago. On a visit to Claire, who was working in Kent at the time, we were introduced to her new boyfriend. A nice lad, we assessed him instantly.  A helpful one too. David was anxious to impress his girlfriend’s parents and chose to stay behind and cook us a meal when the 3 Hopton’s went off later to a concert. We arrived back to a delicious aroma of cooked casserole.
David decided his meal needed heating up and set about this by placing the casserole dish on the naked flame of a gas ring. Whereupon the dish promptly exploded.
Not wishing to let down our crestfallen chef we sat at the table and stoically consumed his meal - carefully extracting shards of glass as we chewed. 
Very tasty it was too . . . And none of us came to harm!


Our last memory of David was from just a few weekends back. We had been out for a family Sunday lunch at a remote country pub he was fond of. We returned to our place in time to watch afternoon football on the telly. Thereupon David was able to savour the uplifting experience of seeing his beloved Liverpool put FIVE goals past Manchester United. He was still smiling when he left us hours later.