I recently returned from a short visit to Amalfi. It was so hard. Someone remarked to me ‘well, when you’re in England you’re used to not seeing him near, so coming down here without him makes it so much more difficult’. She was right. I felt totally isolated, walking along that stradone with so many memories of him, sitting at those tables, chatting and laughing his own inimitable laugh; drawing up on his vespa and waving to a friend. Now I was walking with such a heavy weight of sadness inside me, somehow not meeting anyone I know and unable to cry out all the tears that have built up inside. Nearly two years have now passed and I’m aware that I can never put this to one side, but in order to go on I have to learn to deal with it and return to a positive world.