My tribute

I HAVE been moved by the new Extraordinary Lives column of obituaries for ordinary people (Mail), even though I’m not able to submit a tribute to the woman I loved for 33 years. It all started after a summer’s night playing skittles with work colleagues when a woman I had barely noticed before caught my eye.

The next day I asked her out for a drink and she accepted. We had to go to a pub ten miles away because we were both married.

Soon we were meeting every Friday evening in a local hotel. After a few precious hours together, I’d drop her 100 yards from her house and watch her go in. This went on for many years.

My wife was suspicious, but I never admitted anything and I stayed with her because of her ill-health until she died. My beloved told her husband she had occasionally to go to London to fill in for a work colleague, so twice a year we’d spend ten days together.

It was wonderful to be able to go for a walk and hold hands. One day, I rang her for a chat. A couple of hours later, I was told she’d had a heart attack and died.

My world had collapsed. At the funeral, I sat at the back of the church, staring at the back of a stranger’s head to stop the tears from coming ... I miss her so much and talk to her photo each night.

Name and address supplied.