I was once privileged to work with David Nobbs (Obituary, 11 August) on material for a comedy revue at the Three Choirs Festival in Hereford. Two moments from that time stand out clearly. One illustrates that not only was he a great comic writer but also a generous and supportive friend. I showed him a sketch I’d written called Firkin Fair, based on invented but completely nonsensical local folklore. I could have asked for no higher praise when he told me – and I believe he was sincere – he wished he’d written it himself.
The other occasion was when he was suddenly taken ill in a restaurant with what appeared to be a heart attack (it turned out not to be serious). As he was carried out on a stretcher, still fully conscious, he was heard to mutter to some newly arriving customers: “Don’t have the fish!” He never missed an opportunity for a laugh.
David Thomas
Hereford
• I was enjoying David Quantick’s gentle musings concerning David Nobbs’ Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin (Shortcuts, G2, 11 August) up to the point where he referred (albeit obliquely) to the “awful suits and terrible food” of the 1970s. I’m sorry, but to those of us in the first flush of youth at the time, the suits were cool and the food was exciting. After all, following decades of austerity (to say nothing of parental horror stories about rationing), we could now afford exaggerated tailoring of a kind unknown since the roaring 20s and such exotic viands as avocado pears stuffed with prawns and “chicken in a basket”.
Jeremy Muldowney
York
