Part 2 (1/2)

Siht shudder, exactly the age I am as I write this now He had, like his favourite actor Alan Bates, a full flop of black hair, but his physique was less solid Years of drinking had bulged his tu his lower half, so that he was spindle-shanked and all but arseless I alarette in one hand and a drinking receptacle in the other In the ne, which in his eyes barely counted as alcohol Fros or plastic cups of Glenfiddich whisky It was the first time I had been at close quarters with an authentic alcoholic Soood for the, but for the moment youth was on their side

Unusually for the professional theatre, rehearsals for The Coin after lunch We all decided early on that this was because Si the production, was not able to function before that time In fact, as I found out, it was because he spent the s at his desk No matter how much he drank, he always seeht and diarist Just occasionally I caught sight of hihastly sight His face sagged, his eyes were dull, rheu looked defeated and incapable of thought, action or purpose One sip of an alcoholic drink, however, and he revived like a desert flower in the rain He seeht and sparkle appeared in his eyes, his cothened and cleared Si into prince transfor solution would begin after lunch We all decided early on that this was because Si the production, was not able to function before that time In fact, as I found out, it was because he spent the s at his desk No matter how much he drank, he always seeht and diarist Just occasionally I caught sight of hihastly sight His face sagged, his eyes were dull, rheu looked defeated and incapable of thought, action or purpose One sip of an alcoholic drink, however, and he revived like a desert flower in the rain He seeht and sparkle appeared in his eyes, his cothened and cleared Si into prince transfor solution

Rik Mayall's nickname for him was Mr Drinky We adored hieneration,' he would say 'I don't watch television so I haven't seen ”The Young Ones” or ”Blackadder” or whatever the things you do are called They toldand confident, and I a an audience into the theatre'

That we seeave the impression of confidence seemed extraordinary in any of us except of course Rik Mayall Rik was a force of nature who appeared charismatically invincible and fearlessly uninhibited from the moment he burst on to the cohties I suppose that I too, as ever, e self-confidence that I most certainly did not feel

The title of Simon's play came from a phrase coined and used as the title of a collection of essays by the critic and acadelish-literature studies whose high seriousness, attention to detail and earnest ht by Leavis hiely influenced by hiht Leavis a sanctinificance (raduate sanctimoniousness at work there, I now see) and certainly by the tie his influence had waned, he and his kind having been almost entirely eclipsed by the Parisian post-structuralists and their caravanserai of prolix and imatically zealous acolytes Stories of Frank Leavis and his harridan of a wife, Queenie, snubbing, ostracizing, casting out and calu anyone who offended thelish academics at the university who had been in their orbit were callously dismissed by the elite as dead Leavisites

Leavis's intense, suspicious propensity to explode in wrath and to anatheain in Harold Pinter, whose close but combustible friendshi+p with Simon Gray and Siht to me and John Sessions in particular, as ardent connoisseurs of literary eccentricity I re in the back brasserie of the Groucho Club Harold, his wife, Lady Antonia, Beryl and Si voice burst out 'If you are capable of saying such a thing as that, Simon Gray, it is perfectly clear that there is no further basis for our friendshi+p We are leaving'

We peeped round to see Harold rise with arette, toss down the re all the while That nity was a little punctured by his realization that the faithful Pakenham hound was not at his heels He turned and barked across the rooe-Freezer, as Richard Ingraainst the madness of Harold's tantrums was always simply to fall asleep She could do this in the ia, a condition known only to cats in P G Wodehouse, but which I think refers to ould now call narcolepsy) and softly gathered up her coat By this ti the scene unfold and greatly enjoying the ees that one associates with the authentically Pinteresque Antonia smiled seraphically at the Grays and went to join her husband As she passed our table she stopped and gathered the loose wool at the shoulder of hed, fingering it for a second

'Antonia!'

And she drifted away I can al myself to believe that the room burst into applause, but I think that would be an instance of the wish being father of the thought

I raise the issue of Leavis because the moral seriousness he inculcated into the study of letters left itsin the bar of the Watford Palace Theatre We had perfor into the West End That night's perforreat success, and afterwards Simon dished out the few director's notes he had scribbled on tickets and taxi receipts while standing at the back of the theatre sipping Glenfiddich Thewe all were

'Actually,' said John Gordon Sinclair, 'you remember when I auditioned and you asked me how old I was?'

'Yes,' said Siht, but actually I'm only twenty-five'

'What? What What? Why?'

'Well, I knew that you'd cast Stephen and Rik and Johnnie; they were like twenty-nine and thirty and thirty-two or whatever, and I didn't want you to think I was too young '

'You lied lied?' Sihast

'Yes, well ' Gordie had clearly iined that Simon would be amused It was all over now: he was safely cast in the play, we could all share in the charm of his anxiety to be cast and the little white lie he told tothe story was a compliment to the play and his desire to be a part of it The smile vanished from Gordie's face as he realized that Simon was far from arimace of pain and despair swept over Siht red now and wishi+ng he was dead

'Well, I thought '

'But to lie lie ' '

Fond of Sie reaction To disapprove of lying is one thing, but to disapprove of so benign and amiable a lie and so relentlessly to bear down on its perpetrator struck rotesquely out of proportion We all tried in our oay to defuse the moment, but Gordie felt rotten for the rest of the week, convinced that Si to sack him or at the very least hate hinant influence behind it all hisky or Leavis

The play ere there to put on chronicled the life of a group of friends who collaborate as students on the founding of a literary azine called The Common Pursuit The Common Pursuit Over the course of the play's action, hard real life with its loves, infidelities, coloss and sheen of the group's noble ah Leavisite ideals John Sessions took the leading part of Stuart, the irlfriend, Marigold Paul Mooney was Martin, the best friend endoith enough private , and John Gordon Sinclair played Peter, a likeable serial philanderer endlessly snared in a tangle of lies and evasions as he tries to run his chaotic seraglio of ent, sexually constrained, waspish and socially aard philosophy don called Huh trade, a la James Pope-Hennessy and (perhaps) Richard Lancelyn Green Rik took the part of Nick Finchling, a brilliant, slapdash and entertaining historian who trades his academic promise for an easy career in the media Nick is a heavy smoker and towards the end of the play he develops emphysema At one point ht up and dissolve, for the u fit

'You should give up'

'Why?'

'For one thing, you'll live longer'

'Oh, you don't live longer It just seeer'

That was Mr Drinky's view of his addictions, and noas oing to give up sed ten nicotine-free days atfriends arrived to stay, their presence soon bending and then snapping ain for aluilt-free acceptance of the addiction No, it was arettes were proud banners to be flown Objections to seois He was always getting in terrible rows for lighting up in minicabs and those parts of theatres and public spaces which, even back then, were given over to non-shties, nineties and into the noughties reveal a baleful chaly intolerant and hostile world The titles of his final journalsDiaries Vol 1, The S Diaries 2: The Year of the Jouncer and and The Last Cigarette: S Diaries 3

Of course the body can take chronic assault fro The tiive up first one and then the other

I remember that Paul Smith shi+rt My birthday

I a for a documentary on manic depression The director, Ross Wilson, positions the caht pavement I walk to the other end, turn round and wait for his cue All I have to do is walk towards the ca or speech required It is one of dozens and dozens of such shots that are fil to fill the screen for a voiced piece of commentary to be laid on later: 'And so I decided that a visit to the Royal College of Psychiatry

Ross waves for action, and I start the walk Froown, blocking the shot I stop and return toe film in the street, and we are very used to it Well, not old owns particularly so much as members of the public, or civilians, as some people in the filly these days, ', where you have policemen and assistant directors to help marshal the citizenry In such situations ait patiently and grin inanely The own slowly and painfully approaches, and I see that it is Simon Gray His hair is almost white, and his face is sunken in He looks dreadfully ill and much older than his seventy years

'hello, Simon'

'Oh hello'

We have only spoken to each other once since the terrible trauma of 1995 in which I had walked out of his play Cell Mates Cell Mates and fled to Europe As it happens, the docust other things, what had propelled ht and fled to Europe As it happens, the docust other things, what had propelled ?' Si' I indicate the camera behind him I think it wise not to mention that the events of 1995 are central to the filain to me 'Ah Well There we are, aren't we? A comedy of some kind I suppose Well then' Never has coar and pitiful Si Cell Mates Cell Mates Initial worry and concern forhad rapidly been replaced by resentment, fury and contempt All of which was very understandable The show should have gone on

I see him just once round, watching Pietersen and Bell put on nearly 300 runs for the fourth wicket against South Africa The next-door box is filled with distinguished playwrights: Tom Stoppard, Ronald Harwood, David Hare, Harold Pinter and, sitting quietly in a corner, Siether Sa, the only nobel Laureate to have had an entry in the cricketer's almanac, Wisden Wisden

At tea, the nubiferously chain-s pair of Tom Stoppard and Ronnie Harwood visit our rather sobzzy box David Frost is the host and he wonders aloud if there hts Stoppard suggests the word 'snarl' The particular snarl of playwrights assembled next door has collected a pair of Oscars, a dozen BAFTAs and Olivier Awards, a CH, three CBEs, two knighthoods and a nobel Prize for Literature I a to Stoppard and Harwood, both of who and friendly as Pinter and Gray are obstreperous, cantankerous and unstable Pinter's capacity for explosive hostility and liverish offence at the tiniest iendary and, while he has never displayed any ani to him for more than a few minutes at a time, just in case

At the close of play I ht into Si Hill

'hello, Simon!' I say 'Gosh, you look well'

Which, coo, he does

'Do I?' he says 'Well, that's ter That was my last cricket match Well There we are Goodbye'

He died three weeks later Whether the prostate cancer that killed hi I have no idea I suspect that his alcoholism and sixty-five a day were not the cause of his death At any rate Simon Gray did die and was justly ent and comically desperate voices of his time I was not invited to the funeral

Rewind to 2006 I had decided, I a Actually, I think I do do knohy I hadill turn to at some other time, and it annoyed arettes If I could abandon the systematic and heavy use of a Class A forbidden substance, surely I could fight off nicotine addiction with the ed finally to give up the big thing, the thing ill turn to at some other time, and it annoyed arettes If I could abandon the systematic and heavy use of a Class A forbidden substance, surely I could fight off nicotine addiction with the ers?

On the shelf by ned and built by the Dunhill company, it seemed to be an old-fashi+oned BBC radio microphone Disassea and his Golden Gun, however, and it became a pipe This fine trophy had been presented to me a few years previously when I was named Pipe Sht twinge of guilt at the thought of quitting I picked the award up and, like a child with a Transformer toy, twisted, snapped, prised and pushed it into its alternative shape

It so fell out that my installation in 2003 was to be the last of these funny little Pipe Smoker of the Year ceremonies The aas ruled by the health authorities to be a for by the back door and from that year on was reat icons of the age, anny perhaps, but, from Harold Wilson to Eric Morecambe, by way of Tony Benn and Fred True rather splendid that has since gone out of British life Neither smart, nor sophisticated, nor stylish, they were the kind of people you picture devoting their Sundays either to grappling with the garden hose and waxing the Wolseley or to brisk fell-walking, a canvas haversack on their backs and long woolly socks up to their knees