When I got to the hospital I knew he was going to die because he looked so pale and ill. We were told it was septicaemia – blood poisoning – but we couldn't see where the infection had gone into his body because there was no cut or wound. It was a mystery how he died so suddenly of septicaemia. Then we heard about meningitis, and 10 years after Jamie’s death we asked the hospital for a second opinion. They looked at the post-mortem results and confirmed that it had been meningitis.
After Jamie passed away I felt I had to be the man. It was like that in those days, I knew my wife was really upset, and I didn't want her to see me upset as well. She saw me upset at some times, but usually I tried to keep it back. I have never really spoken about it. Maybe I should have done. I used to say I was going to work but I wouldn't turn up. I'd go out on my own, just wandering around Bristol.
I was lucky because my wife got pregnant within three weeks of Jamie dying. Having a new baby wasn't a replacement for him, but it was something else for us to think about. I now have three daughters, Abbie, Laura and Amy, and five grandchildren. All my daughters consider Jamie to be their older brother. We speak about him. To me, if he isn't spoken about it's as if he wasn't here.
The decades that have passed since then have in no way diminished my sense of loss at Jamie’s sudden death. I organise an annual independent fashion, dance and music event - The Hobbs Show – Born and Raised in Bristol, the biggest UK event of its kind outside of London. In 2016, the year I turn 60 and the year he would have turned 40, the show will be held in Jamie’s memory with all profits being donated to Meningitis Research Foundation.