Claire Montello, 41, from Derbyshire
Switching off the telly, I sighed to myself.
Alone again, I thought.
It was 23 January 2020, and my husband Francesco, 64, had been away all day.
Working as a carer, he often had to do 48-hour shifts.
He’d been gone since 7.30am and was only due back home the following day.
I missed him terribly when he was away, but I was so proud of the work he was doing.
Now, at around 9.30pm, I’d grown bored of the telly.
‘I guess I’ll have an early night,’ I said to myself, heading upstairs to the bedroom.
Slipping into my pyjamas, I decided to listen to some music on my MP3 player to help me drift off to sleep.
I listened to it most nights, the sounds of Scooter helping me head into the land of nod.
I knew my
