My friend Dave →[More:]
My friend Dave died on Friday at the age of 48. He had liver cancer, cirrhosis and hepatitis and was HIV+ and he'd been ill for a long while. He was divorced but had twins who are now about 15.

Most people who knew Dave fell out with him at some point - he was sparky and combative and could be very stubborn. I didn't speak to him for about a year after we had a big fallout over something, but I bumped into him in Walthamstow Market one day and we went for a coffee and put it behind us.

Dave knew he was dying, and it filled him with fear. But he didn't shirk from letting people know that his illness and imminent death were as a result of his lifestyle - sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll - and that he was dying because he'd taken no heed of the warnings people were giving him about the risks he was taking. The last time I talked to him he said "I had a lot of fun, but it wasn't worth it".

His dog, Shadow, is now living with my friend Helene. Her own dog died a while ago. It was a comfort to Dave to know that Shadow will be taken care of.