“Ludmila, are you out of your mind at your age? Your grandchildren are already in school, and you’re talking about a wedding?” — these were the words I heard from my sister when I told her I’m getting married.

Lucy, youve lost your mind at your age! my sister shouted when I told her I was getting married. You already have grandchildren going to schoolwhats this wedding?

Only a week away, Thomas and I were to sign the register, and I thought I should let my sister know. Of course she wouldnt come to the ceremony; we live on opposite ends of the countryshe in Newcastle, me in Devon. At sixtysomething we werent planning a grand banquet with shouted Cheers! echoing through the hall. We would simply sign the papers and sit together in quiet.

I could have skipped the signing altogether, but Thomas insists. Hes my knightinshiningcufflinks: holding the door for a lady, offering his arm as I step out of the car, helping me button my coat. He refuses to live without a stamp on his passport. What am I, a schoolboy? he says, I need a serious relationship. And to me he does feel like a schoolboy, even if his hair is dusted with silver.

At work hes known only by his first name and his fathersMr. Thomas Whitaker. There he is stern, proper, and when he sees me his eyes seem to turn back the clock a few decades. He pulls me into a hug and twirls me down the street as if we were children. Im delighted but also embarrassed. People will stare, theyll laugh, I whisper. He replies, What people? I see only you. When were together I truly feel we are the only two souls on the planet.

But I still have a sister who must hear the news. I dreaded that Theresa would judge me, as many have, and I needed her support most of all. Summoning a burst of courage, I dialed.

Lucyaaaa, she crooned, her voice thin as lace, just a year ago we buried Victor, and now youve found a replacement! I knew my announcement would shock her, but I hadnt expected her anger to be sparked by my late husband.

Theresa, I remember, I cut in. Who decides these timelines? Can you give me a number? How long must I wait before Im allowed to be happy again without being condemned?

She thought a moment. Well, for propriety youd better wait at least five years.

So Im supposed to tell Thomas, Sorry, come back in five years, and Ill keep wearing black in the meantime? I asked.

Theresa fell silent.

What good would that do? I pressed on. Do you really think five years will silence the gossip? There will always be those who love to tattle, and I couldnt care less about them. But your opinion mattersif you keep pushing, Ill call off the whole wedding.

You know, I dont want to be extreme, but get married today if you must! Yet I dont understand you, I dont support you. Youve always been clever, but I never thought youd outlive your own old age. Have a conscience, at least wait another year.

I refused to give up. You say wait another year. What if Thomas and I have only one year left togetherwhat then?

Theresa snorted. Do whatever you like. Everyone wants happiness, but youve lived a happy life for so long

I laughed. Theresa, seriously? You thought Id been happy all these years? I thought so myself. Only now do I realise Id been a workhorse, never knowing life could be a joy instead of a grind.

Victor had been a good man. We raised two daughters together, and now I have five grandchildren. He always said family was the most important thing, and I never argued. First we toiled for our own kids, then for our childrens families, then for the grandchildren. Looking back, it was a relentless race for prosperity with no lunch break. When our eldest daughter married, we already owned a cottage, but Victor wanted to expandraise livestock for the grandchildren.

We rented a hectare, strapped a yoke to our necks, and tended the herd year after year. He would get up at five in the morning, even before the roosters. Most of our lives were on the cottage; trips to the city were rare and purely practical. Once I called a friend, and she bragged, My grandchild just came back from the seaside, my husband took us to the theatre. As for me, the only theatre I knew was the one at the local shop.

There were days we went without bread because the cattle had us tied up. The only thing that kept us going was the sight of fullbellied children and grandchildren. Our eldest daughter swapped her old car for a newer model thanks to the farm, the younger one repaired her flatproof that our sweat hadnt been in vain. Then a former colleague visited and said, Lucy, I barely recognized you. I thought you were out in the fresh air, recharging. You look half dead! Why torture yourself?

How else? I answered. The kids need help. She replied, Kids grow up; theyll help themselves. You should live for yourself. I didnt then understand what living for yourself meant. Now I do: sleep as long as I like, stroll through shops, watch a film, swim, skino one suffers. The children are fine, the grandchildren never go hungry. Most of all, Ive learned to see ordinary things with fresh eyes.

Before, gathering fallen leaves into bags on the cottage felt like picking up rubbish. Now the leaves lift my spirits. I kick them in the park and grin like a child. Ive learned to love rain, not because I have to herd goats under a thatched roof, but because I can watch it from a cosy café window. Ive discovered how spectacular clouds and sunsets can be, how delightful it is to walk on crisp snow. Ive finally seen how beautiful our town truly is, and its all because of Thomas.

After Victors sudden heart attackhe died before the ambulance arrivedmy children sold the farm and the cottage and drove me back to the city. I wandered like a madwoman for days, unsure what to do, waking at five each morning, pacing my flat, wondering where to go.

Then Thomas appeared. He was a neighbours soninlaw, helping move our things from the cottage. He confessed hed initially had no interest, but seeing a lost, dim woman stirred something in him. Youre alive, youre full of fire; I just need to pull you out of the fog, he said, leading me to a park for fresh air. He bought icecream, then suggested feeding the ducks at the pond. Id tended ducks on the cottage but never had a minute to simply watch them. They were ridiculous, flinging bread, tumbling over each other.

Can you believe you can just stand and watch ducks? I whispered. I never had time to admire them, only to bag, feed, and clean up. Now I can just stand and look.

Thomas smiled, took my hand, and said, Wait, Ill show you so many wonders. Youll feel reborn. He was right. Like a child, I discovered the world anew every day, and the past seemed a faded dream. I cant recall the exact moment I realized I needed Thomashis voice, his laugh, his light touchbut now Im convinced that without him, nothing feels real.

My daughters frowned at our relationship, calling it a betrayal of Victors memory. It hurt, as if Id become a guilty child. Thomass own kids, however, were delighted, saying their father finally seemed at peace. All that remained was telling my sister, a task I delayed until the last possible moment.

Whats the date of your ceremony? Theresa asked after our long talk.

This Friday, I replied.

What can I say? Happiness and love in old age, she answered dryly and left.

By Friday, Thomas and I bought groceries for two, dressed in our best, hailed a cab, and headed to the register office. As we stepped out of the car, I froze. At the entrance stood my daughters with their husbands and grandchildren, Thomass children with their families, and, most astonishingly, my sister, clutching a bouquet of white roses, smiling through tears. Lucy! Did you fly here just for me? I gasped.

Ive got to see who Im handing you over to, she laughed.

Turns out, in the days leading up to the wedding, everyone had booked a table at a café and coordinated the surprise.

A few weeks later we celebrated our first anniversary. Thomas is now everyones favourite bloke. I still cant believe this is happeningIm so indecently happy Im afraid Ill burst.