On Wednesday she turned up at my house with waterproofs and her dog, and we went out to the forest to talk about the things that can make the world suddenly stop.
'I like it under the trees.' she said. 'I feel like I'm talking to him.'
It is strange how the death of Kevin has affected us all. He is just a man who came to the class, who was so full of life it didn't seem possible that he could ever die, but he did; one Sunday suddenly after lunch - after a weekend filled with doing what he most loved in the world - aerobics, hang-gliding and cricket.
Now every aerobics session Ali plays his song, a discordant little number by the Squeeze, and every time she does I want to go out until it finishes but I don't. Music, I find, has the most affecting qualities.
Today I went to see my mother-in-law in the home near our house. She looked content and peaceful lying on the top of her bed. It took her a few seconds to recognise me but that is understandable because it is a long time since she last saw me.
Of course she too is a Hodmandod and has a similar tendency to prefer the company of her own shell. She complained that they were nagging her to join the rest of the residents in one of the lounges.
'You don't have to, if you don't want to.' I told her, and she smiled.
'No, I won't. Why should I?'
'I think it is always better to have a reason to talk,' I said, 'a shared interest...'
'I'd like to draw.'
So I promised to bring her a drawing pad and a mannequin and we would draw together.
'And you could tell me what it was like in the war,' I told her, 'and I can write it down.'
'And before that...'
'And your book,' she said. 'I've never found out what's in your book.'
So I would tell her all about that too.