It’s almost time to go. Jackie has poured us all a stiff drink to steady our nerves and Stella has been at the window looking out for the car that will take us to the church.

Last time we went to the church was to say our goodbyes to Diane, who used to live in number four.

‘Is anyone else nervous?’ Stella asks.

We nod. Who’d have thought a year ago we’d be doing this?

Number four had stood empty for ages after Diane died. My neighbours Stella and Jackie and I were all surprised when a sold sign finally went up.

A few weeks later, we gathered on Jackie’s front lawn to watch as a removal lorry was unloaded.

‘Have you seen the new people?’ Stella asked.

‘Only removal men so far,’ Jackie said.

‘Wow! Look at that desk!’

We all fell silent as a handsome wooden desk (carried by two equally handsome men) was taken in. It was a thing of beauty, the wood gleaming in the sun.

‘Gorgeous!’ Stella whispered.

‘Oak?’ I asked.

‘No idea, Alison,’ Stella said. ‘I was