The Solitary Life of an Old Bachelor: At Peace in His Own Company
Edward was a bachelor well into his later years. He lived unhurriedly, and loneliness had never troubled him. He worked tirelessly, yet adored his work. Meticulous by nature, everything had to be just soeach item in its rightful place. Hed known many women, but none had ever felt quite right. That year, at the end of July, he decided to take a holiday and head south. Weary 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 groceries, shed cook him homemade meals. Eventually, he convinced himself. The journey went smoothly, the GPS didnt falter. The house was old but clean, the room cosy, and the owner, Margaret, warm-hearted. In the garden, a little terriera Jack Russelldarted about. The fruit trees were heavy with ripening bounty, while the two children, a boy and a girl of nine or ten, helped with chores. Margaret never bothered him, only asking what hed like for dinner, piling his plate with strawberries, and smiling sweetly.
Edward spent his days at the beachswimming, clambering over rocks, taking photos, and exchanging messages with an old friend on Facebook. Sometimes, he wondered how a woman in her fifties had such young children. Finally, he asked:
“Margaret, are these your grandchildren?”
“No,” she replied, “theyre mine, just late in life. I never married, but I wanted children. And Im not that oldonly forty-eight.”
As they talked, Edward studied her more closely. She was kind, quick to laugh, and he liked her name. Margaret. Maggie. His mother had been called that. She smelled of strawberries and fresh butter. The cider was crisp, the evenings mild, the sky ablaze with stars. Neither of them danced around thingsthey were adults, after all. By day, everything seemed ordinary, but at night, Edward slipped quietly to the side of the house where Margaret slept, then returned to his own room. The children mustnt wake. The little dog never barked, just watched him with knowing eyes, as if understanding everything. A good, thrifty little thing. She ate two spoonfuls of food and guarded the garden dutifully. Her name was Maisie.
Soon, Maisie began following Edward to the beach. She swam with him, shook off the sand, dried in the sun, then trotted home before he did. But one day, Maisie didnt appear. Edward searched everywhere, called her name, plastered dozens of posters around the village. Where was she? An elderly neighbour suggested that some outsidersrenting a cottage at the far end of the villagemight have taken her. Edward drove straight there. He arrived just in time to hear theyd left an hour earlier, heading for the main road with a small dog in tow.
Edward jumped into his car and sped off. Eighty miles down the road, he cut them off, blocking their path. Two young women climbed out of the Land Rover, bold and brash.
“Oi, move your car! Cant you drive? Well call the police!”
“Call them,” Edward shot back, “but first, give me the dog.”
“Youre lucky,” the taller one scoffed. “She was a stray. Were rescuing her.”
“Shes not a stray,” he said. “She has a home. Shes not yours.”
“Piss off!” shrieked the other one. “If you dont move, well smash your windows!”
Edward ignored them and called, “Maisie!” The little terrier yapped frantically, scrambling across the seats toward the half-open window. The women cursed, grabbed at him, tried to strike him. Edward hesitatedhe wouldnt hit a woman.
Luckily, a sweaty, weary police officer arrived. Covering his ears against the girls shrieks, he lifted Maisie out.
“Quiet! The dog goes to whoever she chooses. Neither of you has proof of ownership.”
“Here, sweetheart,” the girls cooed, waving a bit of ham.
“Come, Maisie,” Edward said.
The officer set her down. She bolted straight for Edward, tail wagging, barking joyfully.
“Seems settled,” the officer huffed.
“No, shes ours!” the girls screamed. “He cant take her! Well report you!”
The officers face darkened.
“Leave now, or Ill check your insurance, your extinguisher, your warning triangle, your first aid kit, and count every tablet in that car. And while Im at it, Ill make sure its not stolen. The systems back at the station…”
The Land Rover vanished in a cloud of dust.
Edward shook the officers hand.
“Thank you.”
“Dont mention it. Ive got one like herclever, stubborn. Wears a coat in winter. Good breed. Loyal. Handy size, too. Safe travels. And keep it legal.”
Back in the car, Maisie curled up in his lap, warm and soft as velvet. He hadnt felt this content in years. The road stretched ahead, the engine purred, and Maisie was calm. But amid the peace, his heart clenched. Soon, hed have to leave. No one waited for him at home. The thought of simply turning the car around and taking Maisie with him flickered in his mind. What did he have, really? A few shirts, some underwear, a tracksuit. The idea lingered. Edward tucked it away, sighed, and drove back to Maggies.
The last week was rainy, but Edward still went to the beachMaisie by his side. At night, he slipped into Maggies room, and each morning, the ache grew heavier. On his last day, the sun shone brightly. Hed packed the night before. Left a gift for Maggie, said his goodbyes, gave her his number, and climbed into the car.
He drove off slowly, knowing the holidayand the summer flingwas over. Time to return to routine. Just as he turned from the dirt track onto the tarmac, he saw Maisie sprinting after him. He sped up. She ran faster. He pressed the accelerator.
The little dog began to fall behind, then vanished. He stopped. Stepped out, lit a cigarette, noticed his hands shaking. He smoked it down, stubbed it out, and stared down the road.
A tiny speck moved along the asphalt. Edward broke into a runpraying no car would strike her. He hadnt sprinted like this in years. Maisie came at full tilt, as if giving her last strength. Dust coated her fur, her tongue, her eyes, even her small ears. Her tail wagged, and she tried to bark, but only sneezed.
Edward scooped her up, wiped her clean, gave her water from the bottle. Then he called Maggie, a smile in his voice: “Fancy a change of scenery? Maisie, me, and two small passengers are coming back.”
