The Quiet Life of a Contented Bachelor: At Peace in His Own Company
Edward was a bachelor of advancing years who lived life at his own pace, never troubled by solitude. He worked tirelessly but loved his job, taking pride in perfectioneverything had to be just so. Hed met many women, yet none had seemed quite right. That July, tired of routine, he decided to escape for a holiday down south. Hoping to avoid the crowds, he placed an ad online.
A woman named Margaret repliedshe lived in a quiet Cornish village with her two children. The beach was a twenty-minute walk away, far from resorts and towns. She offered a private room and home-cooked meals in exchange for groceries. Intrigued, Edward agreed. The drive was smooth, the GPS reliable. The house was old but tidy, his room cosy, and Margaret kind. In the garden, a small terrier named Daisy bounded about, while the childrena boy and girl of nine or tenhelped with chores. Margaret never intruded, only asking what hed like for dinner, filling his plate with strawberries, smiling gently.
Edward spent his days swimming, climbing rocks, taking photos, and messaging an old friend on Facebook. Sometimes he wondered how a woman in her fifties had such young children. Eventually, he asked:
Margaret, are these your grandchildren?
No, she laughed, theyre minejust late arrivals. Life didnt lead me to marriage, but I wanted children. And Im not so oldonly forty-eight.
As they talked, Edward studied her. She was warm, quick to laugh, and her name pleased himMargaret. His mothers name. She smelled of strawberries and fresh butter. The cider was crisp, the nights mild, the sky full of stars. Neither bothered with gamesthey were grown-ups. By day, all was normal, but at night, Edward slipped quietly to Margarets room before returning to his own. The children mustnt wake. Daisy never barked, just watched him knowingly. A good dog, efficientshe ate little and guarded the garden well.
Soon, Daisy began joining Edward at the beach, swimming beside him, shaking off sand, drying in the sun, then trotting home ahead of him. But one day, she didnt appear. Edward searched everywhere, shouted her name, put up posters. Where was she? An elderly neighbour suggested strangers renting a cottage at the villages edge might have taken her. Edward drove there just as they were leavingwith a small terrier in their car.
He sped after them, catching up miles down the road, blocking their path. Two young women stepped out, bold and mocking.
Move your car! Cant you drive? Well call the police!
Call them, Edward said. But first, return the dog.
Shes a stray! the taller one scoffed. Were rescuing her.
Shes not yours, he said firmly.
Get lost! the other shrieked. Or well smash your windows!
Edward ignored them. Daisy! The dog barked wildly, scrambling toward the cracked window. The women swore, grabbing at her. Edward hesitatedhe wouldnt strike a woman.
Luckily, a weary police officer arrived. Amid the shouting, he set Daisy down. Shell choose.
The women waved ham, cooing, Come here, sweetheart!
Edward called, Daisy.
The dog bolted to him, tail wagging.
Case closed, the officer sighed.
Shes ours! they screeched. Well report you!
The officer scowled. Leave now, or Ill check your insurance, tyres, first-aid kitand whether this cars even yours.
They sped off.
Edward shook the officers hand. Thank you.
No trouble. Ive a terrier tooclever and stubborn. Wears a coat in winter.
Back in the car, Daisy curled on Edwards lap, warm and soft. He felt a pangno one waited for him at home. Why not just take her? He had little to return to. The idea flickered in his mind. He noted it, sighed, and drove back to Margarets.
Rain fell the last week, but Edward still walked the beach with Daisy. At night, he slipped to Margarets room; by morning, his heart ached more. On departure day, sunshine returned. He packed early, left Margaret a gift, exchanged numbers, and drove away.
As the car rolled forward, he told himself holidays and summer romances must end. But thenDaisy dashed after him. He accelerated; she ran faster. Finally, she fell behind. Edward stopped, lit a trembling cigarette, and stared back.
A small shape moved on the road. He sprinted, praying no car would hit her. Years of stillness fell away. Daisy raced, dust coating her fur, tongue lolling. She tried to bark but sneezed instead.
Edward scooped her up, wiped her clean, gave her water. Then he called Margaret, smiling. Fancy a change of scene? Daisy, the kids, and I are coming home.
Sometimes, the things we fear losing most are the ones worth keeping.
