Ray was a remarkable man; whatever he turned his hand to, he could do. He was a scientist, a mathematician, a writer (some years ago, he amassed quite a fan following for his erotic fiction, written under the name Thomas Gomez!), a website wizard, a cook, a geologist, a researcher, a fixer, a musician (visit https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7f_gGFuQHRo to see him in action), a collector, a hilarious wit and general know-all. His biography of Maxwell Gray, an authoress who lived on the Isle of Wight at the turn of the century, is published by Wren Publishing.
He was a kind man, fond of animals, generous and thoughtful, and willing to put himself out for other people. He had a temper, but it was quickly over. He was like Mr Darcy in that his good opinion, once lost, was lost for ever, but he could also forgive.
Had it not been for a cough that wouldn’t go away, Ray might not have discovered the cancer until it was too late. He was sent for tests and a scan that showed the cancerous nodes on his lungs shining green like the evil little parasites they were. He would sometimes say that the cancer had hit him just when he was at the height of his powers, and he was right. For a non-smoker, it was also dreadfully unfair.
He was my adviser and best friend; everything, even going to the local shop, was a small adventure and his curiosity was boundless. His death at fifty nine was too tragically soon and he will be greatly missed by those of us who knew and loved him.