Simon came several times as my co-pilot to Rouen where he delivered the science component of the Fourth Form curriculum. (In those days the exchange period spent in France was so long that normal teaching had to some extent to be conducted over there.) His marshland sessions were beguiling, and year-on-year, I always looked forward to the next one. Even a ruptured Achilles once, sustained unknowingly while playing squash with pupils, did not prevent his Wellington booted yomping in the swamp. He and I once hired a car and drove to Giverny where his knowledge about what was growing in Monet’s garden was effortless and immense. He was a modest man, a funny man, a generous man. I will never forget him.