Rupert Everett, Hugh Dennis, Jane Asher and Jimmy Somerville

From Rev’d Richard Coles, cleric and broadcaster:

I stopped at a service station on the M1 recently and accidentally walked in front of a car so the driver had to jam on the brakes. As I ate my burger a man came up and said, "I think I nearly ran you down just now". I said sorry, but he replied, "are you Richard Coles?" and went on to say how much he liked our music in the 1980s. I wished him well, and as he left he remarked, "to think I nearly ran over a Pet Shop Boy".

 Well, close enough. Gay keyboard duos with a retro disco feel are easily confused and the 80s were so long ago I sometimes forget myself that I was in fact not a Pet Shop Boy but a Communard.

 When others discover that I was - very often the first question they ask is “Do you still see Jimmy?” I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s just curiosity about what happens to people in bands – where are they now? – but sometimes I sense a slight edge, a bit like asking after someone’s ex husband or wife. Yes, there were tears, there were tantrums, there was the time Jimmy told a security guard I was an unwelcome fan and had me thrown out of a hotel. Unfortunately it was the hotel I too was staying in, but every time I tried to get back in, I was thrown out again. Four times.

 Bands crash and burn, friendships falter, old comrades fade: but one thing I’ve learned in a life of faith is not to say ‘The End’ too hastily. Last year when I was writing my memoir, Fathomless Riches, a lot about Jimmy. some of it personal, I got in touch, offered him a preview and a right of veto. Not necessary: “you have every entitlement to write your truth”, he wrote: “I'm very aware of our history, and some of it I may shudder and cringe at. We also have a powerful, unique and truly wonderful history too. Bring it on.”

 On this retrospective day, when the world looks back to conflicts forgotten, and peace restored, I look back too, Jimmy, to our truly wonderful history and thank you for it.