I hardly heard the speeches. I had to get away. A nosy parker was the last thing I needed. But when the funeral was over and I hurried outside I saw that my car was blocked in by another vehicle. The wake was in a community hall next door and I found myself propelled in there by the press of people. Pam kept close by my side.

‘You’re the only person I know here.’ She butted me with her hip. ‘Lucky we met, eh? None of the other Weight Watchers seemed to have turned up, the old so-and-so’s.’ Gripping my arm, she pushed our way to the tea table. ‘That Victoria sponge shouldn’t go to waste.’

People glared as she grabbed two paper plates. With the skill of a professional she loaded them up and steered me into a corner. I wondered whose car was blocking me in and if I could make an emergency announcement.

Pam lowered her voice. ‘I know you’ve been going through a hard time. I have to admit that I was slightly miffed to learn about it from the neighbours. But I’m not the sort to bear a grudge so let bygones be bygones. I’m just so glad we’ve met today so we can clear the air.’ She took a bite of cake. ‘The important thing is, I’m here for you now, sweetheart, now you’re on your own. Cup of coffee, trip to the garden centre, you name it. I was thinking of going to Brent Cross this Saturday for some Christmas shopping, want to come?’

This encounter filled me with panic. How could I escape my persistent new friend? If I could imagine a life worse than living alone it was a life with Pam in it. From her windows she had a clear view of my house. Now bygones were bygones she was poised, ready to pounce, when I emerged. Would I like a glass of wine? A trip to the cinema? Home-made Anzac biscuits were left on my front step. I tried to keep the shutters closed but then Pam would ring up to ask if I was all right. She asked me to supper, ‘just us girls and my signature lasagne’, and I could hardly pretend I was busy when she knew I was at home.