Of all of the stories that I have heard told about Pete Postlethwaite over the last couple of weeks, my favourite has to be one shared by Julie Walters, who first encountered him in the Everyman Theatre in Liverpool wearing a window cleaner’s jacket and pink bell-bottoms: love at first sight. For someone who is constantly dismayed by – and simply cannot understand – people who spend not insubstantial sums of money on theatre and concert tickets and then just stand there and talk, this is the ultimate story of revenge. Finding that he was forced to compete with two girls in the audience, Pete leaped from the stage, positioned himself directly in front of them, and delivered his speech. He was terrifying. Beats turning round and glaring, doesn’t it?
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