My new next-door neighbour is ill. She has cancer and regular treatment which makes her bald and very sick. She is beautiful, despite the lack of hair, calm and collected.

Her husband is the tallest and biggest individual I have ever come across. I see him flying remote-controlled planes; the children collect washing from the line, and whisper between themselves. Not to disturb their mother.

I make a meal for them almost every week when she undergoes treatment. A small holiday from sickness and pain.

Yesterday, her husband knocked on my door, holding the biggest cream cake I have ever seen. With strawberry jam in the middle.

'For you', he says, shyly. 'My wife cooked it as she is feeling better today.'

Half of it is already gone; and my children have not even tasted it.

I am in heaven.