DJP - A lifetime gone.

DJP and I met at school at the age of 9, when we were both shunted into the advanced English group - about eight out of 150 boys. Though we were all Greeks, we all had English as at least an equal first language, and some of us had actually been born and had grown up outside Greece. He was a boarder, as his parents lived in the UK, so we didn't socialise much outside school, but we became closer through our mutual love of football. In fact at one time we were so close we called each other brother!

In those days he cut a slightly odd figure for a good footballer, as he was chubby and not otherwise particularly athletic, but his ball-controlling skills, determination and an unerring eye for scoring goals made him an indispensable part of the class team, where I was a defender and usually at centre-back. He loved football, something that never diminished throughout his life, and adored Manchester United, so much so that he made me into a ManU fan even though I knew little of English football at the time; I remain in ManU's corner to this day, though perhaps fan is too vivid a description for an indifferent old curmudgeon like me!

We both left Athens College at the same time after our Freshman year, he to finish school in England, I to a mixed school nearby; inevitably, we lost touch for a while. In the late 1970s I met a cousin of his (T.F) while helping at fresher induction at Deree College, got his address and wrote to him, thus reconnecting. He wrote back telling me that he had started working in the family business - shipping - that 'business was in his blood' and that he'd be delighted to see me if I found my way to London. I did, we met up again and our friendship took off once more, to become even closer when I moved to London in 1979.

As an adult DJP lost his puppy fat and became a lithe, good-looking man who liked nothing better than playing football on a Saturday in Regents Park with the Greek community team. Their games were energetic, aggressive, rowdy and very physical - too physical for my short fuse on the couple of times I was invited to take part - so I decided this was not for me, but he remained in the thick of it for many years. Despite being quite a smoker he retained an athleticism and energy that many younger men would have envied.

I was at his wedding in the early 1980s, and the glittering reception that followed; my memory of it all is through a haze of alcohol, as I found it all a bit intimidating and relied on VnT and champagne to see me through. I do recall the happiness, though, with him wearing a big smile throughout. My hangover the day after may have been just reward for my drinking efforts, which continued when a group of us went on to Tramp, then London's most fashionable nightspot, but it didn't dampen the memory of a special evening.

We subsequently met up, first regularly then occasionally as our lives somewhat diverged - I remember visiting them in their first home, a flat in Maida Vale's Clive Court, to watch football on the TV and have a bite to eat - for evenings out (or in), to talk business (or rubbish) and just to be friends. My memory is full of images of DJP - the child I first met, the young boy, the young man, the usually smiling adult - I always considered him my friend despite not getting together very often. And I can never as long as I live forget DJP sobbing down the telephone when he called to tell me that our friend, former classmate and fellow 'advanced' boy CMP had been assassinated by the disgusting 17th November terrorists; he was totally heartbroken, so deeply sad.

Now he too is gone, taken swiftly and unexpectedly, filling the rest of us with sadness. His funeral was held in London and today there was a memorial service in Kefalari, a suburb north of Athens. The weather was, fittingly, snowy and cold but not bleak, the mood in the church was sombre. His daughter spoke movingly about how wonderful a father he had been and, though this was something I had never considered before, it was somehow good to hear, lifting for me the sadness of the occasion somewhat. Loss is never easy and this one is hard to take, especially for his family, but for his friends as well - our memories joint memories become mine alone, no longer to be shared.

Remember the time right after the first year at Athens College when we met up by chance in Chios at Ormos Lo? We were little ten year old boys and you were holding your mother's hand...