Tom Try

Try once kidnapped me from my apartment - I’ll never forget the wolfish grin on his face as my innocent neighbour opened the security doors, allowing him access. He got me kicked out of Mahiki (or other Mayfair club, I forget) for being shirtless - because he had ripped it off. He is the reason why my father still admonishes me to keep my trousers on when dining at upmarket establishments.

We had arranged to have dinner together next month. Notwithstanding the fact that we had not seen one another in person for some time, he was clear with me that he was not excited about it. His precise words were “My mind is telling me no, but my body, my body is also telling me no. But my diary is telling me yes. So, ok”.

Classic Try. To be reconciled, somehow, with Try the regular, and (though he would never admit this) caring correspondent. Try who reached out when he heard that our home in Vancouver had been undermined by our neighbour, and (as I look back at years of frequently offensive whatsapp messages) who I now realise had been devoting a little time every few months to checking in with me and mine.

Try always happily implied that his spending time with me was an act of charity. While this was (I like to believe) largely in jest, there was truth in it. Tom was hugely generous, with his time, his extraordinary wit and his insatiable intellect. When I introduced my future wife Claire to my circle of friends it was Tom who made her comfortable, with his unique mix of ribald stories, wonderfully told, and a genuine interest in other people.

My last message to Try was to say “the man on the Clapham omnibus you are not, Try”. A tragic lawyer’s joke, not intended for public consumption. I will always be grateful I had the chance to send those words, however. He was unique. A force of nature, endowed with a kind and generous heart. I will miss him terribly. Mary, Jemima, Toby, and indeed all those who were closest with him - you are in our hearts.

I had the pleasure of bookending my Training Contract by following Tom into my 1st seat in London and my 4th seat in Hong Kong. As a new starter in London, Tom couldn't have been more generous in terms of helping me settle and answering questions about the matters I was taking over (needless to say, he'd left everything in perfect shape). By the time I'd moved into Tom's recently vacated room in Slaughters' Hong Kong flat, I'd spent enough time with him in London to be wise enough to follow all his recommendations about things to do in Hong Kong - and to take care of the Panama hat he'd managed to leave behind.

Fast forward to my return to London when a group of us shared many a laugh together over lunch in the staff canteen (an ever decreasing, but more closely knit group as time passed) or drinks in the Artillery Arms. Tom's wit and intelligence caused us to roar with laughter on every occasion. A regular favourite was the trips to one of the Fox & Anchor's back rooms for a pie, pints and anecdotes of the past. Thank goodness those rooms had doors because of the noise we'd make!

It was also great to see Tom and Mary get together, form a formidable couple and start their family. Only a day or two before hearing the news of Tom's passing, a group of Slaughters alumni were having dinner in Hong Kong guffawing with laughter and remembering Tom specifically. That was the power of his character - someone we hadn't seen in years but who still left us with such clear and happy memories.

“Wotcha” Tom, thank you for being such a perfect Son in Law. You made Mary so very happy. It was a joy to watch you all together enjoying life to the full. You have left two incredibly lovely children who have had such a happy and loving start in life. Both of them share your spirit of adventure. They share your love of books, your intelligence and thirst for knowledge. Listening to them talk and negotiate, even if only over how many biscuits they can have, is like listening to you and Mary. A wonderful legacy. You were always accepting of our in law intrusions and we never heard any Mother in Law jokes! Tom- A wonderful man who will be truly missed. “Roger that” Grandma and Grandpa George x

Tom Try was a person of huge significance to me. He wouldn’t have known that. Which is my bad. And that was and is (part of) the brilliance of the man. Whenever it is someone’s birthday at the office, there will be cakes. And I will always think of Tom. Because Tom didn’t bring cakes. He made the most delicious pork pie you have ever had in your life. His face, his smile, his laugh, will reverberate in my life forever. He was, he is, he always will be: the best of people.

Tom was someone completely plugged into what it meant to be alive.

To approach him from across the room, to sit down next to him, I always knew it was going to be time well invested.

I could talk about anything. If I was visiting somewhere, he’d been there. If I was listening to something, he’d heard it. If I was referencing an obscure fact from history, he knew it. Conversation was always so easy with him.

He seemed to completely fill the time he had. Gathering knowledge, devoting himself to hobbies, eating, drinking, laughing, telling anecdotes.

His emotional intelligence was off the scale. He knew when he could tease, how far he could push, and when to leave off and give space. But above all he understood that people in the main want to be happy. They want to laugh. He’d fill conversations with anecdotes and stories in an attempt to keep them light hearted, to make people smile.

He’d never leave a message unanswered for long, and when the response came it’d always feature a joke.

It’s an absolute tragedy that someone that embraced life to such an extent had to leave so early.

I’ll always remember Tom when I hear the phrases ‘Wotcha’, ‘Hey Chief’ and ‘An absolute f**k-tonne..’

Which feels like a good note to end this on.

Dear Mary and family,

We were all out in Hong Kong as trainees with Tom and he was an integral part of our group and an absolute tour de force. Many of us haven’t seen him for a few years as inevitably life moves on but we all have such fond memories of that time as we all navigated our junior years in the city.

Some particular highlights of that time and subsequent years (apologies most do involve alcohol consumption!):

- During a typhoon “9” in Hong Kong where all offices and businesses shut (but crucially the bars stay open), Tom treated us to an excellent rendition of Take That’s ‘Pray’ in the downpour borrowing someone’s tights and unbuttoning his shirt to enhance the authenticity of his depiction.
- Halloween night and a trip on the Herbert Smith junk, Tom stole the show in his spider man costume meant for a small child (aged 5/6yrs we believe) which he had procured only hours earlier from one of the street markets in mid-levels. We did notice a later picture of a better fitting Spiderman suit amongst the photos posted here so clearly it became a tradition!
- Participation in the “Night of 108 Proseccos”. Many of Hong Kong’s most refined dining establishments offered unlimited drinks packages. As impecunious trainees during the start of the GFC we were keen to take advantage of this great value for money opportunity. On a birthday night out for one of the trainees, the restaurant was so impressed with our consumption that they stuck our bill to their fridge as a momento of the night. The group had 108 glasses of prosecco and that was just for starters…Tom sticking stoically to Whisky and soda for much of the evening.
- His love of spicy Szechuan food and cheese (though not together!)

We enjoyed many nights out back in London in the 2010s including a legendary ‘Room 101’ themed house party Chez Try.

An acerbic wit at times, his banter was always entertaining and funny but Tom also exuded a warmth and generosity.

We were all so terribly shocked to hear the news and we send our sincere condolences to his family and our thoughts are with you at this distressing time.

Best wishes,

Lizzie (Shimms), Fiona, Pete (Banksy), Rachel (Compo), James (Wally), Suanne (SuDu) and Nikki (Yanger) xxx

I was introduced to Tom, about 15 years ago, at the Edinburgh Festival by a mutual friend Alan Edington. After moving to Bath in 2021 (and now at a very different stage in life) we saw each other, early one Sunday morning, at the Bath Leisure Centre Soft Play. Tom emerged from the ball pit shirt untucked, hair tousled, with a delighted Jemima. He then proceeded to expertly negotiate a reprieve, from the padded madness, in exchange for a hot chocolate, as we planned a pub Sunday roast. A highly embarrassing incident then followed where I got my dates mixed up and stood him and Mary up at the pub (my wife Claire still hasn’t forgiven me!). Anyway, one of my favourite memories of Tom was when, this summer, he invited us to an impromptu BBQ that day, we got ourselves all ready, children in the car, and I sent Tom a message "Just leaving!". Tom replied immediately saying "This is actually a mega long term revenge play. We're in France." We were in stiches and in awe at the potential prank. Suffice to say they weren't and I remember Tom chuckling away when we arrived. Tom was such great company - we enjoyed many Friday night rugby matches at the Rec, dinners and family get-togethers. I think about him fondly every day.

As a parent of young children you particularly nourish the friendships your children develop when you like their parents. Although I had only known Mary and Tom for a few years through Jemima, I assumed we would be friends for 20+.

I knew of him as someone who
- liked mushrooms, fishing (unsuccessfully) and rugby
-ordered (actual) half pigs for home butchery without consultation,
-allocated tasks to Mary like “pick up dog poo” during ballet lessons,
-conceded to Peloton being better than Wattbike fairly and quietly
-didn’t really want/need to be set up with my husband as a friend as he had such a solid group of old friends (as does mine, hence knowing they were a good match!) but we were getting there.

What I saw of him at the school gate, birthday parties and playdates, was a father who really loved Jemima, calling her “bear” in his gentle but dependable yet not too serious voice and that she was always so very happy to be with him. I saw a husband who really loved and was proud of his wife. These will be my strongest memories of him.

This is an unusual, unfair and cruel grief we all have to experience, from the inner circle to the wider ripples. Mary, Jemima and Toby are so loved.

Thomas was part of our lives from 7 years old, as a friend of my son Tom. A clear memory has stuck in my mind. One day in his early teens, he let himself into our house and came into the kitchen. ‘Hello, Jo. Is Tom here?’ I replied, “no he’s out’. Thomas came up to the glass cupboard, made himself a Ribena (which Meg wouldn’t buy!), drank it down and said, ‘Thanks very much’. Then he let himself out of the house again. Thomas was a wonderful person.

Tom was my ‘college dad’ at St Peter’s. He wrote to me before I started - I remember receiving his very polite but friendly email at my family computer. I was nervous to reply, but I somehow ascertained from his welcoming tone that he might be up for a ‘joke’, so in response to his question ‘do you have any dietary requirements?’ I wrote to say that I only ate orange food. I can just picture his face/thoughts when he received this very weird reply. Thankfully, this didn’t put him off and I was so touched when he met me (and my whole family) as we got out of the car on my first day- he helped to carry my many bags and boxes inside. Coming from a state school in Leeds, I was nervous about what I might be entering into - but Tom’s invitation to come to his second year house, along with his housemates’ ‘college children’ put me at ease - especially when they introduced us to a game of guess the cheese, where they took turns to pretend to be…well, cheese - and we all had to guess what kind of cheese they were (as the title of the game suggests). At first I was worried that this might expose my lack of knowledge about posh cheeses, but I was soon reassured that this wasn’t a test, it was just Tom and his friends being very funny - and inclusive with it. Over the next few years, Tom would check in with me sometimes - not in a cringey serious way- he was always jokey and friendly, but it sort of felt like I had a big brother figure in college. I felt proud that Tom, this very popular and hilarious big-presence guy, was my college dad and that he enjoyed the fun of it rather than ignoring the ritual like most other people. I remember when I was in an Edinburgh show that featured in a newspaper, he messaged me to say well done and that he expected this to happen- I was so touched by his support. And after university, out of the blue, Tom started messaged me every year on my birthday in the role of a middle aged dad checking in on his wayward child. I would pretend to be stranded in South America saving up for a new face tattoo and he would respond in a resigned but dutiful tone. He really made me laugh every time. I loved how out of the blue it was. He was so funny and so much fun. I don’t want to overstate my connection with him- in fact I wish I’d seen him more over the years and made more of an effort to keep in touch- but I genuinely feel so lucky to have shared fun and sometimes touching moments with such a legendary guy. He didn’t need to take the time to do these things, but he did - and I benefited from his generosity and sense of fun. He was kind and welcoming to me at a pivotal and potentially vulnerable moment of my life and I will always be grateful to him for that. I want to express my sincere, heartfelt, condolences and send all my love to his family and close friends. If I can ever do anything to help with Tom’s little ones (eg if they ever want to go into the world of acting or script writing) please don’t hesitate to reach out - it would be an honour to attempt to somehow repay the kindness Tom showed me. All my love always, Laura Power xx