I first met Charlie Watts in 1946 when I was four and he was five. We moved into new pre-fabs built after the war in Wembley Park – we were number 22, he was number 23 – and our moms got it right away. We have been very close, Charlie and I, throughout our lives. There was a point after he joined the Stones where we haven’t seen each other for years, but when we finally reconnected we picked up where we left off. Our relationship never really changed.

From a young age, we were both interested in jazz. It was a mutual thing. I was listening to records in Charlie’s room, discovering musicians like Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington and Jelly Roll Morton. Later when his dad bought him drums and I got a double bass, we had only been playing for a few months when we heard that a jazz band was auditioning for a drummer and bassist. We did the audition and since we were the only ones there we got the gig with the Jo Jones Seven and started doing weekly sessions at the Masons Arms pub in Edgware.

He’s always been a lot sharper than me. He had style, Charlie, a natural style. I have a few pictures of us playing the Masons Arms, me in a scruffy old cardigan, him neatly dressed in an Ivy League jacket. He was calm and studious and very picky about things. Later, one of his hobbies was collecting autographed photographs of famous jazz musicians. He also had a complete collection of early editions of PG Wodehouse, each book in a small slipcase. He absolutely loved his “thing”, as he called it.

He also liked classic cars, even though he couldn’t drive. He had a 1937 Lagonda and he used to sit in it and crank the engine. He loved her like an artifact. He had someone taking him for a walk. What a lifestyle! But it was not a question of “looking at what I have”. Everything he owned – Donald Bradman’s cricket cap, Sonny Greer’s drums – he owned because he loved them. It’s a shame he didn’t open a museum.

The Jo Jones Seven broke up after about a year and we took different paths. Five years later, Charlie was touring the United States with the Rolling Stones. Although he was great with the Stones, his first love was jazz. At concerts, his backstage room was called the Cotton Club and he played Duke Ellington before going on stage. Joining this huge rock band was an accident. He would join groups every two weeks and go their separate ways and he thought it would be the same with the Stones. When he took off he was as surprised as anyone.

He’s always been quite suspicious of the Stones. It never affected him, it was just what he did. He was the liveliest of the group, the father of the family. He hated going on the road, he wanted to be home with his wife, Shirley. Although he had a very unstable period in the mid 80’s. I don’t know what started him, but he got very seriously involved in drugs. Which is incredible, after 20 years of not touching anything. But then he stopped overnight, as he realized he was in danger of losing everything. I really admire it. For a while after, he didn’t do anything at all: he didn’t drink, he basically lived on nuts. He refused to do anything for a year or two.

We started playing together again in the 80s when he formed the Charlie Watts Big Band, one of his many jazz projects. The last thing we did together was the ABC & D by Boogie Woogie, from 2009 to 2012. He was a very caring guy and always very polite. At Ronnie Scott’s, people would come and sign things, books and records and everything, and he did it without any qualms.

As a batsman he was a team player. He didn’t like doing solos. He never considered himself a star. He was playing for the group. This is how he approached everything he did. He didn’t want spotlights. But even though he got mixed up, he was very present in the Stones. I always felt like I couldn’t imagine the Stones without Charlie.

He got along with the other members. They stumbled upon the right chemistry early on and it has been going on for almost 60 years. Mick Jagger, Keith Richards and Charlie had really built that strong relationship, and then Ronnie Wood joined them and it became what it is. They were all completely different characters, but the chemistry held the group together.

I miss Charlie very much. The last time I spoke to him was when he turned 80 in June. I called him on his birthday and we had a chat and everything was fine. He said, “Hope to see you soon.” And then a few months later, I found out that he had been in the hospital for nine weeks. I was really shocked by this.

My lasting memory of Charlie is his kindness, his generosity, his thoughtfulness as a person. I loved him deeply. What can you say about someone you’ve known since you were four years old? Growing up together, discovering music together, we have become so close.

How will he remember? Well, that’s a legend, isn’t it? He would say, “No, I’m not. But he was a drummer legend, playing with the greatest rock band in the world. He will not be forgotten.