My most enduring memory of Bill will probably be a moment from my time as an undergraduate at Exeter. I was reading Russian and French, so never had the privilege of being lectured by Bill, but we both drank in the Ram. Part One exams were upon us, and the one paper I was not looking forward to was medieval French. I strolled from Kilmorie along Prince of Wales Road, and turned into Stocker Road on my way to the exam hall. At that moment, Bill came barrelling past me in his old Cortina, window down, beard and hair waving in the slipstream. As he drew level, he leant out of the window, gave me a clenched fist salute, and yelled "Power to the people!" before vanishing up Stocker Road. This may not be the way the deputy head (as he then was) of the Politics Department is expected to interact with a lowly second-year undergrad, but it cheered me immensely, at a time when I really needed it. Rest in power, Bill.