People have asked me how Brian’s funeral went. I’m not sure how to reply, though it did go smoothly and according to plan, I think. Francis Chappell Funeral Directors managed it all beautifully all the way through and I am grateful to them for their assistance.

It could have been an ecumenical bunfight between Methodists and Quakers for the soul and memory of my father in law – let us just pause for a moment to imagine that – but I was very keen that the family were also represented especially since some of my conversations over the previous few weeks had highlighted exactly how little most of Brian and Alison’s friends knew about us. Let us draw a discreet veil over that now.

John’s words – he does not want them to be called a eulogy – were gentle and illuminating and brave. The chapel was packed despite the problems with petrol supply affecting relatives who had come from afar, and I was pleased to note that my figure plucked from the air of 50 orders of service and 50 mouths to feed at the subsequent reception seemed to be about right. It could have gone either way given the quiet, somewhat detached nature of the man and the groups of people his life touched.

Carey’s Funeral Catering did us proud, and we had plenty of sandwiches and sausage rolls left over for our lunch the next day. Apparently you’re allowed to give left over food to homeless people and charities because of health and safety rules and risks of litigation. I can understand that, but it did seem a pity when so many are finding things so much tougher even than normal and we had more than enough.

Anyway, that was that.