He was probably the primary force in my late teens that propelled me into a lifelong devotion to theatre. I saw Rozencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead in the very late 1970s (I though it was at The Round House in Chalk Farm but Chat GPT suggests probably the Young Vic) and somehow found myself sitting next to Miriam Stoppard. I vaguely remember watching Arcadia in Bath; and seeing or hearing possibly every other play he wrote either on TV or on the radio. And once, stepping into Harvey Nichols, I passed him standing in the entrance lobby, glancing at his watch. About half an hour later I stepped out and he was still waiting - as the aforementioned Ms Kendall arrived in a flurry of apologies.
Strange to realise he’s gone.