My belated marriage I didnt tie the knot until I was fiftyfive. Its been five years since we said our vows. Im now sixty, and my wife, Margaret, is sixtyfive. Theres nothing shocking about that nowadays you hear all sorts of things. What is extraordinary is that this is my very first marriage, and for her it is the first as well.
Imagine that I never intended to settle down. Never! When I was barely twenty, the girl I loved with all my heart, Lily, left me. She was called Lily. She walked out when I was five months pregnant with our child. At first, I begged the Almighty for an end to my life. Then I clenched my jaw and swore I would never marry. I didnt want another scoundrel who would disappear at the first opportunity.
I kept my promise. Our daughter grew up, got married, we were blessed with grandchildren, and I, stubborn as a mule, trudged through a solitary existence. Men did try to get to know me and how they tried! But my nature is such that once I decide something, I stick to it. Loneliness turned me rough around the edges, hardly the genteel woman I once was.
Fate, however, has a cheeky sense of humour. I want to tell you how one gentleman finally managed to lead me to the altar
When I retired, like most pensioners, I turned my hand to gardening. I inherited a modest cottage with a garden plot in Kent from my parents. I took the commuter train to get there. The journey was just over an hour, so I always brought a crosswordpuzzle magazine time passed quickly.
One day, at the platform, a couple boarded the carriage obviously husband and wife together with a short, elderly man. At first everyone was silent. Then I heard the woman say timidly:
Stan, perhaps we should drop by the kids and lend a hand? Youre the father, after all
Her voice was drowned out by a thunderous roar from the man:
What are you, daft? Do you expect me to crawl around those idiots?
He then launched into a tirade aimed at his wife and children. I unintentionally met his eyes and froze. It was Stan the very same chap who had left me while I was pregnant. Hed hardly changed, except his features were now more lined and sour. Big, gruff, just as before. Stan didnt recognise me, but he caught my stare and shouted:
Whats with that look? Turn away, or Ill plant a fist in your eye!
I was rooted to the spot, my whole body paralysed. Then something unexpected happened. The little man sitting opposite us rose decisively and stepped between me and Stan:
If you dont stop insulting women, youll have to answer to me. A man who talks to women like that isnt a man at all, but a scoundrel. Ill turn you into a ragdoll!
I startled: Stan could have simply crushed him. Yet the newcomer straightened his shoulders, muttered something, and the truth hit me before me stood not a hero, but a coward who only raised his voice when women were on the receiving end. And through him had I wasted my whole life? Tears welled up. Everything flashed like a fastforwarded film thirty years in a few minutes.
After two more stops, Stan and his wife alighted, and I broke down. The carriage felt empty and bitter.
Even tears cant mar your lovely face, the protector said with a smile. He no longer seemed small to me. Before me stood a proper gentleman. His name was George Benson, a former serviceman.
Thats how we met. And for the first time in many years I felt the urge to marry. I wanted to be a loved partner.
And so it happened.
George and I are very happy together. Life, it seems, always puts things in their right place. Age matters little. Even in the autumn of life love can arrive and bring true happiness.
