There have been heartrending stories of people dying alone and being buried hurriedly and almost unattended. We are also seeing families and funeral directors responding to the challenge of burying the dead at a time of social distancing with creativity and imagination

One cold morning just before Christmas, on a high grassy headland in wild Northumberland, a shaggy little Shetland pony pulled a wooden cart into a field towards an open grave. There was a misty frost lingering in the air and on the cart, in a wicker coffin, lay the body of one of my oldest friends. Mary, aware that her cancer was terminal, had planned it all and had asked her priest if he would be able to handle such an unconventional funeral. He didn’t turn a hair; instead he made her laugh by asking her what date she had in mind. In the event he did her proud.

Later that day, people who had loved her thronged a church hall, and her brother-in-law spoke warmly of her particular, valuable gift for friendship. There were several of us there who had been in the same class at the Convent of the Holy Child Jesus in Mayfield. We resolved to maintain and strengthen our own bonds of friendship, arranging to meet in London in the middle of March.