The Quiet Life of a Contented Bachelor
Edward was a man well into his later years, a lifelong bachelor who moved through life at his own pace. Solitude had never troubled him. He worked diligently, often to exhaustion, yet he loved his work. Meticulous by nature, he demanded perfectioneverything in its rightful place. Hed known many women, but none had ever seemed quite right. That summer, as July drew to a close, he decided to take a holiday and head south. Wearied by routine, he longed for an escape from the bustle of modern life. He placed an advert online.
A reply came from a woman with two children, living in a quiet Cornish village. The beach was a twenty-minute walk away, far from crowded resorts and towns. She offered a private room and home-cooked meals in exchange for groceries hed bring. It sounded ideal. The journey went smoothly, his satnav guiding him without fault. The house was old but spotless, his room cosy, and the woman, Margaret, was warm and kind. In the garden, a small terrier named Daisy scampered about. Fruit ripened on the bushes while the childrena boy and girl of nine or tenhelped with chores. Margaret never intruded, only asking what hed like for supper, piling his plate with strawberries, and smiling gently.
Edward spent his days at the beachswimming, clambering over rocks, taking photos, and exchanging messages with an old friend on Facebook. Occasionally, he wondered how a woman in her fifties had such young children. Eventually, he asked:
“Margaret, are these your grandchildren?”
“No,” she replied. “Theyre mine, just late arrivals. Life didnt lead me to marriage, but I wanted children. And Im not that oldonly forty-eight.”
As they spoke, Edward studied her. She was cheerful, quick to laugh, and he liked her nameMargaret. Maggie. It reminded him of his mother. She smelled of strawberries and fresh butter. The cider was crisp, the nights mild, and the sky glittered with stars. Neither of them bothered with pretencethey were past that. By day, everything seemed ordinary, but at night Edward slipped quietly to Maggies side of the house before returning to his own room. The children mustnt wake. Daisy never barked, only watched him with knowing eyes, as if she understood. A good little dog, undemanding. She ate just a spoonful of food yet guarded the garden faithfully.
Soon, Daisy began accompanying him to the beach. Shed swim beside him, shake off the sand, bask in the sun, then trot home before he did. But one day, she didnt return. Edward searched everywhere, called her name, put up posters around the village. Where could she be? An elderly neighbour mentioned strangers renting a cottage at the far end of the villageperhaps theyd taken her. Edward drove straight there, arriving just in time to hear theyd left an hour earlier, heading for the main road with a small terrier in tow.
He sped after them, catching up eighty miles later, blocking their path. Two young women stepped out of the Jeep, bold and brash.
“Move your car! Cant you drive? Well call the police!”
“Call them,” Edward said calmly. “But first, return the dog.”
“Youre lucky,” sneered the taller one. “She was a straywere rescuing her.”
“Shes not a stray,” he said. “She has a home. She isnt yours.”
“Get lost!” shrieked the other. “Move or well smash your windows!”
Edward ignored them and called, “Daisy!” The little dog yapped frantically, scrambling toward the cracked window. The women cursed, tried to hit him. Edward hesitatedhe wouldnt strike a woman.
Luckily, a tired-looking police officer arrived, wiping his brow. Covering his ears against the girls screeching, he lifted Daisy out.
“Quiet! The dog goes where she chooses. Neither of you have proof of ownership.”
“Here, sweetheart,” the girls coaxed, waving ham.
“Come on, Daisy,” Edward said.
The officer set her down. She bolted straight to Edward, tail wagging wildly.
“Seems settled,” the officer sighed.
“No, shes ours!” the girls howled. “You cant take her! Well report you!”
The officer reddened.
“Either leave now, or Ill check your insurance, extinguisher, first-aid kit, and count every tablet in that car. And Ill run the plates to see if its stolen. The systems back at the station…”
The Jeep sped off.
Edward shook the officers hand.
“Thank you.”
“Dont mention it. Ive got a terrier tooclever little things. Loyal. Practical size. Good luckand mind your speed.”
Back in the car, Daisy curled in his lap, warm and soft as velvet. He hadnt felt this content in years. The road was quiet, the engine purred, and Daisy slept peacefully. Yet beneath the calm, his chest tightened. Soon, hed have to leave. No one waited for him at home. The thought of simply turning the car around and taking Daisy with him flickered in his mind. What did he have to lose? A few shirts, some old jumpers, a pair of trainers. The idea lingered. Edward sighed and drove back to Maggies.
The last week was rainy, but Edward still visited the beach, Daisy trotting beside him. At night, he crept to Maggies room, and each morning, the ache in his chest deepened. On his final day, the sun returned. He packed early, left a gift for Margaret, exchanged numbers, and set off.
He drove slowly, telling himself holidays and summer flings always endedit was time to return to routine. As he reached the main road, he spotted Daisy sprinting after the car. He sped up. She ran faster. His foot pressed the accelerator.
She fell behind, then vanished. He stopped, lit a cigarette, hands shaking. He smoked it down, stubbed it out, and stared back at the road.
A tiny speck moved on the tarmac. Edward ran, praying no car would hit her. He hadnt run like this in years. Daisy charged forward, dust coating her fur, tongue lolling, tail wagging. She tried to bark but only sneezed.
Edward scooped her up, wiped her clean, gave her water. Then he called Margaret, a smile in his voice. “Fancy a change of scenery? Daisy, the kids, and I are on our way back.”
Sometimes, the things worth keeping arent the ones we plan fortheyre the ones that chase after us.
