My husband died in Greece twelve years ago. We went on a cruise. “Oh let’s go, let’s go”, he wasn’t poorly. It came out of the blue. We couldn’t bring him home because we couldn’t get a flight. It was a Bank Holiday and we couldn’t get hold of the coroner, he was perpetually away. I think it took me longer to get over it because of the shock, because he wasn’t poorly. But then perhaps it was best, my daughter says he would have needed you to do everything and then you’d have got overtired and you’d have fallen out. He was 79. We were just enjoying life, both retired. He was always doing something. Didn’t want to sit down.

It is good here. I’m as happy as I can be without my husband and you can’t talk about your husband and the sadness forever. People get a kind of cloud over them, bored, so I try not to do that. My daughters are very good.