Linda, youve lost your mind in your old age! Your grandchildren are at school! What sort of wedding is this? Thats what I heard from my sister when I told her I was getting married.
But honestly, whats the point in waiting any longer? In a week, Tom and I will be signing the registerbest to let my sister know, I thought. Obviously, she wont come to the celebration; we live at opposite ends of the country. Besides, at sixty, we have no intention of throwing a grand bash with wild toasts and party games. Well have a quiet signing and a meal, just the two of us.
We could easily skip the paperwork altogether, but Tom insists. Hes a gentleman through and through: always opens the front door for me, helps me out of the car, holds out my coat. He flatly refuses to live together without that stamp in the passport. He said just that: What am I, a schoolboy? I want something real and serious. And honestly, Tom is a youngster to me, despite his silver hair. At work, hes respected and always addressed as Mr. Thompson. There, hes the picture of seriousness. But as soon as he sees me, its as if he sheds forty years. He sweeps me up, spinning me right there on the high street. As much as it makes me happy, Im rather embarrassed. People are staring. Theyll laugh, I protest. He always laughs back, What people? Theres no one in the world but you. When were together, I really do feel as if the world is just the two of us.
But I still have my sister, who deserved the truth. I was so afraid that Anne, like the rest, would be judgmental, but it was her support I needed most. I finally plucked up the courage to call.
Linda! she gasped, fairly stunned when she realised I was planning to walk down the aisle. Its only been a year since Victor died, and youve already found his replacement! I knew my news would shock Anne, but I hadnt guessed she’d be upset because of my late husband.
Anne, I know, I interrupted. But whos to say how long I should wait? Can you give me an exact number? After how many months or years am I allowed to find happiness without people tutting?
She mulled that over. Well, decency demands at least five years.
So I should tell Tom: sorry, come back in five years, Im still in mourning?
Anne was silent.
And what good would that do? I pressed. Five years from now, people will still gossip. Therell always be something for the rumour mill. Frankly, I dont care what they think. But your opinion matters, and if you insist, Ill call the whole thing off.
Look, I dont want to be the villain here. Get married if you like! But just so you know, I cant understand this, and I cant support it. You were always headstrong, but I didnt expect you to lose all sense in your old age. Seriously, just wait one more year, Linda. But I couldnt relent.
You want me to wait another year. And if Tom and I only have a year left togetherthen what?
She sniffled through the phone.
Oh, go on, do what you want. I get iteveryone wants happiness. Still, you had so many happy years
I laughed.
Anne, really? Did you think I was happy all those years? Maybe I thought so too, but only now do I realise what I really wasa workhorse. I never knew life could be different, life could actually bring you joy!
Victor was a good man. We raised two lovely daughters, and now I have five grandchildren. Victor always insisted family was the most important thing. I never objected. First, we wore ourselves out for our children. Then, for our childrens families. Then, for the grandchildren. When I look back, it was a never-ending chase for the next bit of comfort, never pausing for breath. By the time our eldest got married, hed bought us an allotment, but Victor decided we needed moreso he insisted we expand, raise our own livestock for the grandkids.
We rented out a hectare, and along with it, we took on a burden we hauled for years. He bought cows and sheep, and every day they had to be fed. We were never in bed before midnight, and up again by five. The allotment became our life. We rarely came into town, and then only for errands. Sometimes, Id ring my old friends, and everyone had talesoned just been to the seaside with her granddaughter; another had gone to the theatre with her husband. I couldnt even get to the shops!
A few times, we went without bread for days, as the animals tied us up completely. Only one thing kept us going: seeing the kids and grandkids have enough. Our eldest managed to change her car thanks to the eggs and meat, the youngest did up her flat. All those years of slog werent in vain, then. Once, an old friend from work visited and said, Linda, I barely recognised you. I thought youd be relaxing out here in the fresh air, but you look utterly spent! Why do this to yourself?
How can I do otherwise? The children need our help, I replied.
Theyre adults now; time you did something for yourself. But back then, I didnt even understand what living for myself meant. Now I donow I sleep in if I want, shopping at leisure, catching a film, swimming, even skiing, and no one suffers! The kids still make ends meet just fine. The grandkids arent going hungry. But best of all, Ive learned to see things differently.
I used to curse the autumn leaves piling up at the allotment, annoyed with the mess. Now, kicking through leaves in the park brings me joy like a child. I can savour the rain from the window of a warm café instead of madly chasing sheep out of the storm. I’ve finally noticed how marvellous the clouds and sunsets are, how simple joy can be found in crunching through fresh snow. My own cityhow beautiful it is! And it was Tom who opened my eyes.
After Victor passed, it all felt like a fever dream. It happened so suddenlya heart attack, and he was gone before the ambulance arrived. The kids sold everything offlivestock, allotment, and allbrought me back to the city. For weeks, I shuffled through the days, waking at five out of habit, pacing the flat, not knowing where to put myself.
And then Tom appeared, my neighbour and, as it turned out, a friend of my son-in-law’s. Hed helped us with the last of the removals. Later he admitted that, at first, he had no interest in me; he just saw a washed-out, listless woman and felt sorry for me. But, he said, he could see that energy that just needed shaking loose. He coaxed me out to walk in the park, to breathe the air. We sat on a bench, Tom bought ice cream, then suggested feeding the ducks down by the pond. Id had ducks at the allotment for years, but never once did I have time to simply watch them. How funny they are! Tumbling under while chasing bread.
Imagine, just standing here watching ducks, I confessed. I never had a minute to enjoy my ownjust cook, feed and clean, every dayand now I have all the time in the world.
Tom smiled, took my hand, and said, Wait, love. Ive got so much more to show you. Itll be like youre born again.
He was right. Each day, like a child, I marvelled anew at the world. My old life now felt like a heavy dream. I cant even remember when I realised I couldnt live without Tom: his voice, his laughter, his gentle touch. But one morning I simply woke up knowing it; all thishim and everything we sharewas real, and I never want to lose it.
My daughters hated it at first, called it a betrayal of their fathers memory. It hurt; I felt so guilty in front of them. Toms kids were the opposite; they were delighted, thanked me for giving their dad new life. The only one left to tell was Anne, and I put that off as long as I could.
So whens the signing? Anne finally asked after our long talk.
This Friday, I replied.
Well thenbest wishes in your twilight years, she said dryly.
By Friday, Tom and I had bought a simple spread, dressed up, called a taxi and set off to the registry office. When we got out, I literally stopped in my tracksstanding at the steps were my daughters with their husbands and children, Toms family, and most importantly, Anne! She clutched a bouquet of white roses and smiled at me through happy tears.
Anne! You actually made the journey?! I could hardly believe it.
Well, someones got to check who Im handing you over to! she laughed.
Turns out, in the run-up to our wedding, theyd all plotted together, rung round and booked us a table at a lovely café.
The other day, Tom and I celebrated our first anniversary. Hes completely at home amongst my family now. I still cant quite believe any of this is realmy happiness feels almost indecent, and I sometimes worry itll slip away.
