Nicky Haslam and Cilla Black on their special relationship

'Cilla has taught me fortitude. She’s got huge guts, and she doesn’t act like a huge star except when she needs to': Nicky Haslam on Cilla Black. Photograph: Rex

We met on 30 January 1965. I remember it so precisely because I was guest-editing US Harpers Bazaar. Richard Avedon was shooting the whole issue, and the plan was to shoot Cilla at his studio that day. We were all staying at the Ritz and it was Winston Churchill's funeral that morning, so the three of us watched from the windows of the Ritz before heading to the studio.

At the time Cilla was a huge star – bigger than the Beatles – and she'd just had a hit with "Anyone Who Had A Heart" the year before. It was one of my most favourite songs. She was wearing a short mini-dress and she posed like this floppy doll. I still have the photographs of that day.

We hit it off straightaway and I knew we'd be friends. She was gorgeous and friendly and we shared a love of music.

Cilla and I tend to talk light-heartedly about very serious?subjects. I've always felt like I could talk to her if there was an issue, but I don't like to be too intense – there's nothing worse than boring one's friends with one's problems, is there?

I think the hardest thing Cilla's been through was when her?husband Bobby died. She was very cut up – she adored him – and I tried to be there for her as much as possible.

In a funny way, she's very motherly. She looks after people and she has that very nice nurturing, nesting quality.

Cilla has taught me fortitude. She's got huge guts, and she's self-deprecating – she doesn't act like a huge star except when she needs to, but she's not a swank. And she's game for anything. I love that about her.

Nicky Haslam's album Midnight Matinee is out on 1 July

Nicky is one of the most gorgeous men I've?ever known. The first time we met I?remember thinking how?fanciable he was. We?spent that year going to clubs like the Ad Lib and the Scotch of St James and having a brilliant time. Then in 1966 he went off to Arizona to become a cowboy. We lost touch until he came back to London in 1974. Nicky is the type of person I won't see for months, then we'll meet and it's as if not a day has passed. The last time we spent proper time together was in Barbados this year – we went for dinner the day I?arrived and spent most of the trip together.

There's more to our friendship than parties and holidays, though. If?there?was ever a serious issue he would be there for me, and in the past he certainly has been.

There's a lightness to Nicky – no?matter what your issue, after talking to him things seem OK. We've only ever had cross words once. We were on a?boat in Majorca 15 years ago?and I didn't like someone he did. We disagreed about it – had a little shout – and then it just blew over. We usually see eye to eye on people – he has a?very good instinct for what people are really like. Speaking as a person who's a?common as muck, Nicky's got style?and?class. He brings those qualities to everything he does, but he's no snob. He?has friends from all backgrounds.

We speak on the phone, but I'm not very good with technology. Recently I'd just got a new iPhone and I was trying to save his number in it late at night. Turns out I?was pressing the wrong button and I'd been sending him photographs of me in my nightie. He phoned me at 5.30 that?morning going: "Daaarling, are you OK?" – and that's him, really: caring, funny – and fabulous.

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