When I think back to our earliest years together, I seem to remember that we spent a lot of time fighting - the way that little boys, like lion cubs, do. If I didn't at the time, I can look back and see this was a way of expressing affection.

As we grew up, Nicky took his role as elder brother very seriously. When I was 11, and started at George Dixon Grammar School exactly a year after he did, he was the one who took me to the school gates in the morning and brought me back in the evening. Eight years later, history repeated itself when I started at Jesus College, Cambridge, following in the footsteps of our father, our uncle Don and Nicky himself, who was in his final year when I arrived. So, Nicky was a sort of pioneer who cleared the way for me. It was the same at home - he was the one who fought for the right to stay out late or wear his hair long, and I was the one who benefited.

As boys, we didn't share the same passions. I was only interested in cars; he was crazy about cricket and football. But, even though I didn't follow those sports myself, I had to admire his encyclopaedic knowledge, and, more than that, his ability to spot a winner. Although we lived in Birmingham, he became and remained a Manchester United supporter, and he was already a fan of the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan when some people still hadn't heard of them. This was something we could share - I could always trust his taste in music.

Again and again throughout his adult life, Nicky showed his generosity. He never managed his finances well, so he couldn't always be generous with money, but he was generous with his time and his hospitality. In 1972, he welcomed me and my friend to the little flat in Paris where he was living with Clelia; in 1980, he welcomed me for several weeks in London; and he welcomed me to all the places he stayed once he moved to Germany: Heidelberg, Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Berlin. He loved being the tour guide, and showing me all the sights.

He went through good times and bad times. There were times when he must have felt very low and lonely, and I'm sure I didn't do enough for him then, but I'm glad we always managed to stay in touch.

It was when he met Birgitta that he found some stability and meaning in his life. These were the good years, and also the years when he grew closer to our father. Nicky showed his love for him in our father's last few months - before and after he went into hospital - and Nicky watched over him as he slipped away. Then - far too soon - it was Nicky's turn to join him...