I’ve been in a frenzy at the thought of going back to our holiday cottage in Broadstairs on the East Kent coast. I knew my knees would buckle in the hallway and I’d collapse on to the mountain of post and pizza leaflets. But nine months on, I faced up to the fact that I had to go down and see the place. My friend, Mac, drove me though I nearly rang him and cancelled.
And this is how the visit went: we were so busy chatting and laughing on the journey, I barely noticed that we’d arrived. As Mac parked the car, I saw the sea, but instead of hyperventilating with shock, I remembered why I loved this stretch of coast.
Now that I’m officially in year two, I can reveal that ‘Mac’, who came to Broadstairs with me, was Ian [Stewart] — or Gorgeous Grey-Haired Widower (GGHW) — a man I met online through a Facebook bereavement group. Why didn’t I come clean sooner? Mostly, my silence was a desire to protect the innocent: GGHW and his family, especially his two sons whose mother died suddenly in the garden of their home when they’d just turned 15 and 18. [Police are now investigating Stewart over the death of his first wife.]
Another reason was that, for months, I had no idea whether GGHW was going to simply have a walk-on part in my life, or become a permanent cast member.