Charlie was like a live electric cable that had broken free from its housing. Charlie skipping and jumping about, shooting sparks whenever he touched the ground. As he couldn’t fly yet that was about all the time.

Charlie always came up smelling of roses even when he was the culprit. I was in awe of him and would blindly follow his madcap schemes without question. When we were ten we broke into a working mans club where Charlie consumed a bottle of vodka and numerous ales (he considered himself an expert in real ale of course). He ended up in hospital surrounded by concerned friends and family whilst I got a beating.

That was Charlie Wire.