It was during that glorious summer of 19?, that the gentleman came to be living across the tidy landing from Miss Winnifred Christie.  The house had lain empty since the noisy students had vacated it at Easter, taking with them their sheet curtains and their strange smells and music.  Being at the top of the close lent an otherworldly air to the landing, and the sun beating through the wistful stainglass of the stairhead window painted the white-edged marble steps like a cathedral.  Winnie had kept the stairs washed every four weeks for well over half a century, and she presumed the new gentleman, whom she had glimpsed only briefly as he brought his furniture inside, would share the duty with her.  She had let a thrill of pleasure run through her when she had seen he was an older gentleman, much the same age as herself.  The upright piano and large bookcases pleased her sensibilities too, and she looked forward to sharing her eyrie at the top of the close with someone closer to her own sensibilities. 


Lady living alone in a top floor flat in West End
Admired her widower male neighbour for years
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