Peter Reynolds

I confess I shed a few tears at Cilla’s funeral today, given extraordinary coverage on BBC News.

She was part of the the soundtrack of my life.  I grew up with her.  One of my earliest memories, probably aged about six, was in the kitchen of our house in St Bernards Road, Solihull. My mum was there, at the sink, and Cilla’s voice singing ‘Downtown’ was blaring out of the transistor radio on top of the fridge.  (Yes, it was Cilla, not Petula Clark. Cilla did a version as well.)

Later, before she went over to tacky ITV, she was the BBC Saturday night star.  ‘Blind Date’ was amusing, the first time you saw it but the Cilla show was an institution and ‘Step Inside Love’ was perhaps the first time that romance entered my young mind.

Someone to be thankful for and a little sentimental about.