August 26th 2011. I’d taken a little show I’d made to New York. Cast of 3, including me. It was the opening night and I was shitting myself, to be honest. We were onstage as the audience walked in. A mad looking bastard with white hair strolled in and took his seat in the middle of a row half way back. I squinted into the lights. Then I mouthed. “Charlie?” I had no idea he was even in town. He just waved.
That was Charlie all over. No ceremony. He was just there for you if he thought you might need him. No fuss.
2012. I moved back to London after almost 20 years away. Saw Charlie a few times. One night my phone rang, really late. It was Charlie. He was outside. He’d had a bit of a problem and needed somewhere to stay. I let him in, we had a drink and put the world to rights before he sloped off to the spare room like my drunk brother.
That was Charlie all over. No ceremony. He had a way of making me feel useful. No fuss.
Now he’s gone. He checked out Monday evening. No ceremony. No fuss.
To his family and all his other friends, lots of love. I’m going to try my best to be a bit more Charlie.