Picking up the phone, I rang my brother Nathan.
‘He’s out fishing,’ his wife Tracey, 44, told me. Typical, I thought, smiling.
Almost every Saturday, Nathan, 42, would take his five-year-old boy Archie for a lads’ fishing trip – the same as he’d done with his older son Jack, now 19.
I was so proud of my brother.
As kids, we’d have our arguments, as any kids do, but we were really close, enjoying days out with our older brother Justin, now 44, and our parents, Elaine, 64 and Andrew, 65.
Even as grown ups, we lived close by, and he was a fantastic uncle to my kids, Phoebe, seven, and Harry, five.
‘You’ve got to try this,’ Nathan said the next evening, spooning pasta sauce into my mouth.
It…