Its been five years since we say I do. I am sixty, he is sixtyfive. Marrying at fiftyfive isnt odd these days; everything can happen. Remarkably, its both my first marriage and his.
Believe me, I never intended to marry again. When I was under twenty, the man I loved, David, left me while I was five months pregnant. At first I thought of ending it all, then I swore I would never set foot down the aisle again. I didnt want another scoundrel to run off at the first chance.
I kept that promise. My daughter grew up, married, and my grandchildren arrive, while I, stubborn as a mule, drift through a solitary life. Men never seemed to matteruntil I finally decide to follow through on a vow I made to myself: if I think of doing something, Ill do it. Loneliness has hardened me into a blunt, unattractive old woman.
But fate is an unpredictable lady. Im about to tell how a single man finally drags me beneath a wedding veil.
When I retire, I, like most retirees, take up gardening. I inherit a modest cottage with a plot in the Cotswolds from my parents. I travel there by train; the journey takes just over an hour, so I bring a crossword magazine to pass the time. One morning, at a small halt, a couple and a diminutive elderly gentleman sit opposite me. The woman, nervous, whispers to her husband, David, lets stop at the childrens place and helpafter all, youre their father. Her husbands voice is drowned out by the arriving train.
Are you mad? he shouts, Do you want me to crawl on my knees before those idiots? He launches into a tirade at his wife and children. My eyes flick to the couple and land on the angry, shouting man. It freezes mehe is David, the very man who abandoned me years ago. Age has creased his face, but his bulk is unchanged. He doesnt recognise me, yet when our gazes meet he snaps, What are you staring at? Turn your eyes away or Ill punch you in the face! I stand rooted, my limbs unresponsive from shock or fear.
Then something unexpected happens. The little elderly gentleman opposite me rises decisively, steps between David and me, and says in a firm, steady voice, If you keep insulting women, youll have to deal with me. A man who talks like that to a woman is nothing but rubbish. Ill break your arm if you dont stop. My heart drops to my soles. What arm? David threatens to crush it with his finger!
Just as I ready myself to defend my new protector, David snarls, hunches his shoulders, and mutters incomprehensibly. I realise this heroic bluster only works on women; a real brave man would never bow to him. Im overwhelmed, tears welling up, as the scene rushes past like a film where thirty years flash by in a minute.
David and his wife step off the train at the next stop, and I begin to sob. An emptiness gnaws at me. The man who stepped in looks at me with a gentle smile. He is no longer a little man with a nail in my eyes; he is solid, courageous. His name is Arthur Bennett, a retired army officer.
Thats how I meet the man who will become my lateinlife husband. For the first time in many, many years I feel the urge to marry, to be loved as a woman again.
And it happens. Arthur and I are very happy together. Life arranges things wisely, no matter what age you are. Even the autumn of life can be filled with love and joy.
