January arrived and the weather was cold, but sunny. As Clare was preparing to visit the cemetery for the anniversary of Hal's death, her mother fell ill and was unable to go with her. When Clare phoned Sandra, she couldn't make it either. Toby was sick with chicken pox and she didn't want to leave him.

"I'm sorry Clare. Why don't you ask Angie? I'm sure she'd go with you." Sandra said.

"She's already gone out. She's rehearsing with the choir for a concert tonight."

"Oh, that's a pity. What about Alan?"

"No, I couldn't do that to him, that's not fair. I'll go on my own. I don't know why I worry about it. I'm a grown woman for goodness sake!"

Clare made her way to the florist where she picked up her order, a beautiful bouquet of red roses and gypsophelia. As she left the shop, her spirits fell sharply. The thought of going to the cemetery alone was frightening. She began to wonder if she had a phobia. In a dreary state of mind, she made her way back to the car park near the bank. As she unlocked the car door, a black BMW came and parked in the space beside her. It was Alan. She was surprised to see him.

She stood flowers in hand, watching while he got out of his car.

"You're not following me are you?" she asked.

"No, just going to the cash point." he said. "Money may not be important, but they won't give me any shopping unless I hand them some. What are you doing?" he asked, as he walked up to her.

"I'm going to the cemetery. Everyone is either ill or tied up, so I'm going on my own."

"I'm not ill or tied up, I'll come with you... if you like."

"No, it's all right, I'm just being stupid." As she turned towards her car, his hand touched her arm and she turned back to face him.

"Please let me come with you." he said. "I'll treat you to lunch afterwards. It might help soften the..." He didn't finish the sentence and she saw such tenderness in his eyes, it was hard to deny him.

"But you always go to the car wash on Saturday morning."

"I do, but not today. I've got something better to do."

Immediately, her spirits rose. "Thank you, Alan, you're so kind. You're the answer to my prayers." she replied.

When they arrived at the cemetery, Clare set about tidying the grave, pulling up weeds and arranging her flowers in the vase with fresh water, taken from the tap along the path. She knelt down and arranged the vase in its place and as she looked up at the words on the headstone the urge to cry was so powerful, she knew if she started now she might never stop. She'd never felt as lonely as during this past year. Whatever happened, she hoped she would never feel like this again. She said silently, 'Please Lord, I so need your Peace.' Then she whispered to Hal. "I may meet someone else one day, but I will never, ever love him more than I loved you."

She stood up and glanced around the cemetery. As far as her eyes could see, there were graves, crosses and headstones, all signs of death. She hated this loathsome place, the atmosphere seeming only to compound her loneliness. A deep shudder shook her body. If she came here every day of her life, she would never get used to it.

Looking across at the handsome man sitting on the bench, his hands in his jacket pockets, she suddenly knew that she wasn't completely alone. Alan was always there for her. He was a good friend, one of the best. She walked across to the bench and sat down beside him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine." she replied. It was only half of the truth, but sitting next to Alan eased her pain considerably.