I served one woman for eleven years and have done nothing since

Eleven years of standing duties in one household, and then she died, four years ago, and I have not written so much as a letter since. I am putting it at the top because it is the first thing anybody would need to know, and because I have finally stopped being able to use it as a reason not to try.

Sixty three, the northern quarter, retired off the railways, in a flat I have had since the divorce.

What I did there was ordinary. Two days a week, the house run to her standard, the garden, the driving, and towards the end a good deal of the practical side of her being unwell. Her sister still sends me a card at Christmas, which is more of a reference than most men on this board can put their hands on.

What I am looking for is the same shape rather than the same woman, and I know the difference matters. I would want to be told if I started doing things her way instead of the way I had been asked, because I expect I will and I do not think I would notice.

Nothing paid, nothing owed, and nothing sexual, which I say plainly because at sixty three people are too polite to ask. What I do not want is to talk about the eleven years at any length. It was the best thing in my life and it is finished.