The dead drug dealer had a girlfriend in our village, and they had a little 6yr old daughter together. The funeral was harrowing, and the little girl was present (not a good idea in my humble opinion).
If only her stupid father had had some sense and put lights on his bike (and stopped selling heroin, coke and weed) she might have had a daddy still.
I had a lovely solid dark green Raleigh bike on which to ride to grammar school. It had a bell with a shamrock on it, great thick tyres and no gears, just rod brakes. I called it 'Lucky'.