My old friend Ted Pank was a Londoner, who, with his wife Hettie, decided to spend their years of retirement in the strange and distant Forest of Dean.

Ted had been a tea merchant in the City of London. He had a rich and unmistakeable Cockey accent, and had no previous connection with the Forest, but being the most sociable of men, a cricketer and a pub man, he and Hettie were quickly absorbed into the St Briavels community. He was a regular at the George, and the Crown, the other village pub at the time, since then sadly de-licensed. And at an age when most cricketers were well into retirement, Ted joined the village cricket club.

He was a dogged opening bat, with infinite patience. Bowlers couldn’t tempt him with a tricky delivery that seemed to be a free hit but was really a hidden danger. When he was in doubt (and often when he wasn’t), he would play an immaculate forward defensive shot straight from the MCC coaching manual. He didn’t score many runs, but his wicket was solidly defended against frustrated bowlers. As a fielder, he stood bravely at forward short leg, (also known as ‘silly mid on’), a few yards from the bat, vulnerable to a straight drive, which he would have had no time to avoid. In the old conventions of cricket, he would run to pick up the ball for a bowler 50 years younger than himself. He enjoyed our annual cricket tours of Devon in the 1970s.

At the George or the Crown, he would always buy a beer for his cricketing mates, while taking a small whiskey, enjoying the pubs, cricket and company in his new home.

Ann and I were delighted when he and Hettie agreed to be witnesses at our wedding. We were married at the former registry office in Lydney (at Swan Road). Our (surprise) wedding breakfast was at Ted’s home in Castle Crescent, St Briavels, and we all enjoyed a celebration in the afternoon at the George.

He didn’t have a car, and he didn’t even have a car licence. He didn’t need one. He and Hettie would walk everywhere. You might see them walking on the B4228 from St Briavels to Coleford, to do their shopping. You might stop to offer a lift, which he would courteously refuse.

His last years were very sad. He would walk around the village with Hettie, smiling and nodding to friends and acquaintances, but not really taking it in. Hettie was very brave, always with Ted, reminding him of his well-known friends. He was a tragic victim to Alzheimer’s disease, but he can be remembered as a gentle and kind man who, with Hettie, left many happy memories for his friends in St Briavels.