Martin - The Stranglers

Havn't got time to do this whole posting in one but I'll make a start. I play Black Sabbath first album as I type.
Martin moved from the carribean aged 9, I met him then. He had been plucked from hyper colour, beautiful beaches to hell. Leeds, miners strikes, power cuts, 3 day weeks. We bonded immediately. He hated Leeds and his mission from when I met him was to escape. We did all the naughty stuff together. Got our first girlfriends, discovered magic mushrooms the same time. He looked up to me. I have always felt a responsibility to what happened.
We did a milk round together, started smoking. We got in to big trouble at school. The headteachers discovered the mushroom parties we syarted. As each hanger on got caught, they bottled it and pointed the finger at me and Martin. My life was a chaotic mess. No family to speak of. His parents were wealthier and sent him off to boarding school to get him away from bad influences. They put him on the train. He did a runner, toured England hitching but ran out of money. The Evening Post ran thew running story of 'Missing boy with drug problem'. He had returned to Leeds and was living in a den we had built in the nearby woods. I would finish school, steal food and take it down to him. I took Anthea, my girlfriend to his hide away, she came in high heels, I've never been near a girl with heals since. She told her best friend. When the filth came to mine, my Dad, no lover of law told them to fuck off. They went to his girlfriends. She grassed up his wearabouts. I ran down to warn him but as I got there bI saw police cars and Martin being led away.
We had both been big Stranglers fans.
After we left school he struggled to find a place. UI had found joinery, he followed me and did the same course. I couldnt hack work and went to trailer life, Travellers they called us. He followed here.
I realised there was no future in this, well I couldnt see anything I could achieve other than a lifestyle. After a trip, travelling round Eire I met a lad who put me on to Shrewsbury furniture course where I could see a marriage of creativity and joinery. Martin followed and went to Rycotewood.
We both went to Hazelton medical resaerch unit where they tested drugs on poor people. We got £100 nabday, great at the time. They took blood samples every 20 minutes, pushing huge needles in to the same vein hole. It broke our needle fobia. Afterwards we both thought we could do it more cleanly than that. A period of amphetamine injection habit followed.
I escaped to nShrewsbury, he Rycotewood.
During my holidays I had been working for an antique restorer and had it all arranged to move in to his house as a lodger, work for him to pay rent and start my own work.
By the time I got there Martin had pinched my plan.
I felt he was following all I did.
I went away to college for a further 3 years and got a first class degree. Not bad for someone with no o levels.
I met Alice, an artist. She bought a cottage in Shropshire that I spent 10 months working on.
In the meantime Leeds had become rife with heroin.
I got the call from Pig saying Martin was on life support and likely dead soon.
He'd got a new job and was celebrating. If he'd got a bottle of wiskey he would have woke up with a bad head.
He didn't. He boought a 5 bag of heroin off a mate, he was warned to only do half, he did half, walked off to the toilet, after a while our mate wondered where he was, he found him slumped in the kitchen, all the kit out, wedged between the worksurfaces.
At his funeral I had to sit by the guy who nhad vsold him the gear, probably the kindest person I have ever met to protect him from all the straight family and friends.
When I heard he was dead, I went walking for miles through the Shropshire countryside and promised him I would always carryn him on my shoulders and he could share my life.
So thursday night, me and Martin are going to see The Stranglers, for old times sake. Just like we saw them on the 'Black and White' tour, the 'Raven' tour and the 'Men in Black' tour'.
I miss you Martin you cunt.