Rob was my big brother - he alway will be. Deb, Nick and I knew him warts and all. His warts were most warty! His all is terrific to recall. He was unique, he was extremely intelligent, sometimes I thought that that extreme intelligence meant he had to drop down a gear or two to communicate with us mere mortals! He was alway good for 13 across on a Monday morning, you know, the one you couldn't get from Saturday's Telegraph crossword. He was complex and had a great sensitivity. I remember him coming to meet Tilly, his youngest niece, for the first time. He 'got' the wonder of new life, particularly in that instance that it was me, his snotty kid-sister who had produced it! Rob in full flight, vaulting over women and children to get away from an imaginary rat in the kitchen at Brow Hill. Rob's arrival at a bad-taste fancy dress party - thunder flashes heralded him and friends absailing over the roof. Rob helped me with my home-work, I always failed to dumb it down and my teachers never bought it! Rob lying on the floor in front of the fire, fiddling with his pipe. Strangely, perversely, after all I am a Cooper, the memory that brings me most comfort is Rob sniffing. God, he was good at that! My family feels broken.