The Quiet Life of an Old Bachelor: Content in His Own Company
William was a bachelor getting on in years. He lived at his own pace, and solitude had never troubled him. He worked like a dog, but he loved what he did. He was meticulouseverything had to be perfect, each item in its place. Hed known many women, but none had seemed quite right. That summer, at the end of July, he decided to take a holiday and head south. Tired of routine, he longed to escape civilisation for a while. He went online and placed an advert.
A woman with two children replied, living in a quiet Cornish village. The beach was a twenty-minute walk away, but the place was far from resorts and towns. There was a private room, and in exchange for bringing groceries, shed cook him proper home meals. In the end, he was persuaded. The journey went smoothlythe satnav didnt fail him. The house was old but clean, the room cosy, and the owner, Eleanor, was kind. A little terrier, a Jack Russell, scampered about the garden. The fruit trees were heavy with ripening apples, and her two children, a boy and a girl of nine or ten, helped with chores. Eleanor didnt bother him, only asking what he fancied for supper, piling his plate with strawberries, and smiling warmly.
William spent his days at the beachswimming, climbing rocks, taking photos, and messaging an old friend on Facebook. Sometimes, he wondered how a woman in her fifties had such young children. Finally, he asked:
“Eleanor, are these your grandchildren?”
“No,” she said, “theyre mine, just late arrivals. Life didnt lead me to marry, but I wanted children. And Im not that oldIm only forty-eight.”
As they talked, William studied her properly. She was pleasant, quick to laugh, and he liked her nameEleanor. Ellie. His mother had been called the same. She smelled of strawberries and fresh butter. The cider was crisp, the evenings mild, the sky thick with stars. Neither of them beat around the bushthey were adults, after all. By day, everything seemed ordinary, but at night, William slipped quietly to Eleanors side of the house. Then hed return to his room. The children mustnt wake. The dog never barked, just watched him shrewdly, as if she understood everything. A good little thing, economical. She ate two spoonfuls of food and guarded the garden faithfully. Her name was Daisy.
Soon, Daisy began following him to the beach. Shed swim with him, shake off in the sand, dry in the sun, then trot home before he did. But one day, Daisy didnt show. William searched everywhere, called her name, put up dozens of posters around the village. Where was she? An elderly neighbour suggested some tourists renting a cottage at the far end of the village might have taken her. William drove straight there. He arrived just in time to hear theyd left an hour earlier, heading for the main roadwith a small dog.
William jumped into his car and sped off. He caught up eighty miles later, blocking their path. Two young women climbed out of the jeep, bold as brass.
“Oi, move your car! Cant you drive? Well call the police!”
“Go ahead,” William said, “but first, give back the dog.”
“Youre lucky,” the taller one laughed. “She was a straywere rescuing her.”
“Shes not a stray,” he said. “Shes got a family. Shes not yours.”
“Piss off!” the other shrieked. “If you dont move, well smash your windows!”
William stepped past them and called, “Daisy!” The dog barked frantically, scrambling over the seats, trying to reach the half-open window. The girls grabbed at her, cursing and swinging at him. William didnt know what to dohe wasnt about to hit a woman.
Luckily, a police officer appeared, sweating and weary. Covering his ears against the girls shrieks, the sergeant lifted Daisy out.
“Quiet! The dog goes to whoever she chooses. Neither of you have papers for her.”
“Here, sweetheart,” the taller girl cooed, waving a bit of ham.
“Come on, Daisy,” William said.
The officer set her down. She bolted straight to William, tail wagging madly.
“Seems settled,” the officer huffed.
“No, shes ours!” the girls screeched. “He cant take her! Well report you!”
The officer turned red.
“Either leave now, or Ill check your insurance, your fire extinguisher, your breakdown kit, and count every pill in your first-aid box. Your cars filthy, and Ill run the plates to see if its stolen. The systems back at the station…”
The jeep vanished fast.
William shook the officers hand.
“Thank you.”
“Dont mention it. Got a little terrier myself. Clever and stubborn. Wears a coat in winterhates the cold. Good breed, loyal. Handy size. Drive safe. No speeding.”
William got back in the car. Daisy curled on his lap, warm, her fur soft as velvet. He felt goodhadnt felt like that in years. The road was quiet, the engine purred, and Daisy dozed. But in that peace, his chest tightened. Soon, hed have to leave. No one waited for him at home. The thought of just turning the car around and taking Daisy with him flickered in his mind. What did he have, really? A few T-shirts, some socks, a tracksuit. The idea winked at him. William tucked it away, sighed, and drove back to Eleanors.
The last week was rainy, but William still went to the beach. With Daisy. At night, he slipped into Ellies room, and each morning, the ache grew worse. On his last day, the sun shone. He packed the night before. He left a gift for Eleanor, said goodbye, gave her his number, and got in the car.
He drove off slowly, thinking his holidayhis summer flingwas over. Time for routine again. Hed just turned onto the tarmac when he saw Daisy racing after him. He sped up. She ran faster. He pressed the accelerator.
The little dog began to fall behind, then vanished. He stopped. Got out, lit a cigarette, noticed his hands shook. He smoked it down, stubbed it out, and stared at the road.
A small shape moved on the asphalt. William ran, praying no car would hit her. He hadnt run like that in years. Daisy came at a gallop, like it was her last strength. Dust coated her fur, her tongue, her eyes, even her little ears. Her tail wagged, and she tried to bark, but only sneezed.
William picked her up, wiped her clean, gave her water from his bottle. Then he called Eleanor, a smile in his voice. “Fancy a change of scenery? Me, Daisy, and two small passengers are coming home.”
