Memories of Pete:
Sitting in my broken-down car on the way back from Towersey Festival with Pete asking for the third time if I really had no tools whatsoever in the vehicle.
Sitting in the lounge while Pete cooked dinner and wincing at every ominous crash, bang and oath from the kitchen.
Watching with fascination and disbelief at the spectacle of Pete emerging from the smallest tent in the world.
Crying on Pete's shoulder (more than once).
Asking/taking Pete's advice (not often enough).
You'll be remembered with much affection.