My brother Peter was 4 years younger than me, so he was just three when World War II ended. He grew up quickly in post-war East End London.

At the age of six, Pete learned to ride Dad's bike. I had my own bike, a bright red Raleigh with "droop" handlebars (Dad's word for them), a rare birthday or Christmas present and my most treasured possession. Mum and Dad couldn't afford a bike for Pete yet so he used Dad's. Dad called it "The Phantom". It was a very old, sit-up-and-beg ladies bicycle, which he had "aquired" second-hand and used for going to work. Pete's little legs wouldn't reach the saddle, but he could ride by standing on the pedals between the handlebars and seat, since the bike had no crossbar. Pete followed me and my friends round the streets wherever we went and always seemed able to keep up.

One day, Pete and I set off to cycle to Southend-on-Sea, a distance from East Ham of about 25 miles. As a tenyearold with a sixyearold on an adults bike, neither of us doubted that we would complete the trip. The roads had so few cars in those days, it did not seem unreasonable for Mum and Dad to allow us to go. We actually made it to the sea front, but it took so long to get there we only had time to look over the sea wall, buy a bottle of "pop" and start off home. We arrived home at 11 o'clock that night exhausted. Mum and Dad were waiting on the door-step talking to some neighbours. Pete and I were too tired to notice if there was an air of panic about them. We were home ... that was all that mattered. Job done!

Everyone said Pete was slightly deaf, which may account for the way he talked. Loud and excitedly! If Pete went to the "Pictures", he would come home and tell us the entire story line of both films, with the gist of the newsreels and cartoons thrown in for good measure! Any time I took Pete on a bus, to my accute embarrassment, he would entertain all the other passengers with his incessant chatter, revealing our most intimate family secrets. Everyone said Pete was "oblivious".

Pete had his own set of "party tricks". He could fold both his ears inwards and stuff them into his ear-holes. Then he would sit grinning at you while you waited, in giggly anticipation, for them to pop out. They always flicked out one at a time, making us all roll about laughing! He mostly did it when Mum had told us all to "sit quiet and not make a sound!". I lost count of the times he got us in trouble for that!

Another disgusting little trick he learned was to make a big show of picking his nose in front of you. He would thrust his fore-finger right up his nostril and wiggle it about while secretly licking spit onto another finger. Then he would quickly wipe the wet saliva across your cheek so you thought it was snot! Dirty little monkey!

When he was only 6 or 7, Pete used to go off on his own to East Ham Swimming Baths. If the water in the pool was too cold for him he would sit in the warm water of the foot-bath that everyone had to walk through to wash their feet on the way to the pool. On his way home, sometimes after dark, he would call in at the Fish Shop for three penn'rth of chips and a gherkin and come down the road eating and singing at the top of his voice!

Sadly I haven't seen him for years.