Christmas at the Dog & Duck

by Jill Steeples

  Standing in front of me was the man from the lane, minus his two dogs. His large masculine physical presence filled the cosy confines of the snug. Up close, I was able to reassess my first impression of him. Tall - check. Much taller and broader than I remembered, actually. Dark - check. Eyes, the colour of melted chocolate, that flickered with curiosity, and messy dark brown hair that curled on his collar. Handsome - check. Strong features with the finest shadow of stubble across his wide jawline and the faintest hint of a scar above his lip. Oh yes, definitely handsome. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Polly raising an eyebrow at me, her half-smile suggesting that she very much approved of my latest customer. It was almost as if the Goddess of Dating had been eavesdropping on our conversation and had sent down a shining ray of hope, in the form of this man, telling us to keep the faith.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ he said, with a warm smile of recognition, ‘I’ll have a pint of the special, please.’

  Why were my fingers shaking all of a sudden? I pulled his pint carefully, grateful to fix my attention on the golden nectar filling the glass, allowing me the opportunity for some much needed pulling-myself-together time.

  ‘So,’ he said, after he’d taken a sip from his glass, his tongue searching out the creamy froth left lingering around his lips, ‘how’s your dog?’

  I must have seen that very manoeuvre, the tongue-licking one, performed by dozens of men newly acquainted with their pint of beer, but suddenly it had taken on a whole new level of meaning.

  ‘My dog? Ha ha, oh yes, my dog.’ What was wrong with me? Acting as though I'd never met a good looking man before! Well, I suppose it had been a long time. ‘She’s fine. I mean, he’s fine. Milo, you mean?’

  The man shrugged and looked at me blankly. Gawd. How could he possibly be expected to know the name of my dog? And what must he think of me? The first time we met I was wading about in a river, soaked through, pretending everything was perfectly normal and now I was a giddy wreck, babbling incoherently.

  ‘Yes, Milo’s fine,’ I said. ‘Only he’s not actually my dog. I was just looking after him. That’s what I do for a living, you see. Well, apart from working in here. I look after dogs. Dog-walking, dog-sitting, that kind of thing. And pouring pints of beer too.’

  I was wittering on, divulging far more information than this man probably wanted to hear, but I couldn’t help myself. I always spoke rubbish when I was nervous.

  ‘Look here’s my card.’ I pulled one out from my back pocket and handed it to him. He took it and turned it over in his fingers, a bemused expression on his face. Poor man. He’d come into the pub for a quiet pint – not to be subjected to my awkward sales pitch, if that’s what this was.

  ‘A Dog’s Best Friend, Ellie Browne.’ He said the words aloud, his voice warm like sticky treacle, his effect upon me a bit treacly too, although I wasn’t sure if I detected a hint of mockery to his tone. ‘A woman of many talents, obviously,’ he said, with half a smile hovering on his lips.

  ‘Yes, well, I like to keep busy.’

  Scintillating, Ellie. Positively scintillating.

  In the background, Polly’s head had shrunk into her shoulders, her eyes had narrowed and she wore a painful grimace on her face, as she made a slicing action at her throat. Shut up, Ellie, was the message, loud and clear.

  ‘Great,’ he said, nodding his head. ‘Well, it was obvious you clearly have a way with dogs.’

  Sarcastic or what? He was laughing at me, I felt sure, wondering what kind of dog-whisperer almost drowns the animal she’s supposed to be looking after and gets sopping wet and muddy in the process. And to think of all the huffing and puffing I’d been doing at the time. I cringed, wishing I could snatch back my card, but he’d already popped it into the safety of his inside pocket. I suspected I wouldn’t be adding the man to my client list anytime soon.

  Thankfully, Eric wandered in from the back at that very moment, his large and jovial personality cutting through the atmosphere, bringing some much needed warmth to the distinct south-westerly chill wafting in from across the bar.

  ‘Everything all right, love?’ Eric greeted me with his customary bear hug. I wrapped my arms round his waist and rested my head on his chest, squeezing him tight. He was like a second dad to me, and in the absence of my own dad, who was living the high-life in Dubai, he made a very good substitute.

  ‘Yes, fine,’ I said cheerily, pulling away, aware of the man’s gaze upon us. I decided now might be a good time to wash down the pumps just so I could divert my attention away from the man seemingly taking up all the air space in our little pub. Thankfully, any awkwardness seemed to be on my part only. Eric greeted the man fondly, as if they were old friends, and they laughed and joked together, the man seemingly perfectly at ease in his surroundings, even though I’d never seen him in here before. They quickly picked up on a conversation while I was very happy to blend into the background and leave them to it, getting on with my job, my nerves just about back under control.

  Polly followed me through into the back bar and handed me her empty glass over the bar, shaking her head.

  ‘Very smooth, Ells, very smooth.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Maybe this is why you and I don’t have any luck on the dating scene. An attractive man walks into the building and you turn into a gibbering wreck.’

  ‘I did not!’ I so did.

  ‘I think you may have done.’

  ‘Oh, I was just a bit embarrassed that was all. We met the other day when I was out a walk with one of the dogs and…’ my voice trailed away, not wanting to remember that humiliation, just hoping I hadn’t embarrassed myself any further tonight, although judging by Polly’s reaction, I think I may have already done so.

  Polly giggled.

  ‘I’m going to get off now, but I’ll see you soon, right?’ Her gaze drifted over into the direction of the man who was now perched on a stool. ‘He’s bloomin’ gorgeous though, don’t you reckon?’

  ‘Is he?’ I said, determined not to look his way. ‘I hadn’t really noticed.’ Much.

  Four

  Thankfully I didn’t have the time nor the inclination to affirm Polly’s view of the man as the pub quickly filled up and I was soon busy serving a stream of eager customers and collecting empty glasses from the tables. The convivial background of chatter, laughter and clinking glasses always gave me a warm glow inside. It didn’t really feel like hard work to be amongst people who were intent on enjoying themselves.

  It was later as the pub thinned out that Eric came up beside me behind the bar and placed a friendly paternal arm around my shoulder. He turned me towards the man, the one I’d been carefully avoiding all night, the one I could avoid no longer, and asked, ‘You know who this is, don’t you?’

  I smiled weakly, not having the faintest clue, but wondering if I should. Now Eric came to mention it, the man did look very familiar. Perhaps he was a celebrity. He had that kind of air about him. Confident and relaxed, but in a ‘hey, check me out’ kind of way. Hmmm, he did look a bit like that temperamental chef off the telly. Or maybe he was an actor – from that gritty thriller that was on the other night. Dark mocha eyes, a strong jawline, messy hair and wide generous lips. Mmm, yes, very… familiar. Oh God, stop it, right now!

  ‘Ellie?’ I felt the benefit of Eric’s elbow in my ribs.

  ‘Oops sorry,’ I said, turning to look at him. Embarrassingly, I realized I’d been gawping at the man for much longer than would be considered polite. ‘No. No, I don’t think I do, should I?’

  ‘This is Max Golding, Noel’s grandson?’

  ‘Noel?’ Who the heck was Noel? And why had Eric decided tonight was the night to audition me for an episode of Mastermind? Really, I had no idea what he was going on about.

  ‘Yes. Noel, you know, Noel,’ he nodded towards the rocking chair that nestled to one side of the inglenook fireplace.

  ‘Oh my goodness! Noel Golding!’ Of course, now I remembered. ‘You’re Noel’s grandson. That’s just
marvellous.’ I beamed, the thought flittering into my mind that this very attractive man – there could be absolutely no denying it – probably had the impression that I wasn’t quite the full ticket.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Did you know him them?’

  ‘Oh yes. I knew Noel. He was such a sweetheart, always had a lovely smile on his face and a friendly word. I first started working here when I was doing my A levels, so I remember Noel from those days. He always took a real interest in me and what I was doing. Such a lovely man. One of my favourite customers.’

  Noel had been as much a feature of the pub as the stone-flagged floors, the oak beams and the mullioned windows. You could set your clock by him. Every day he would be in at twelve for his pint of ale, savouring it for a whole hour, chatting to whoever was in the pub at the time or reading his newspaper if there was no one around, before making the short journey back to his little cottage, at the back of the High Street, in time for his lunch. In the evening he would be back again, this time for two pints that would last the entire night until chucking-out hour. He was a lovely, charming old man who always had a twinkle in his eye, not dissimilar to the twinkle in the eye of his grandson who was observing me closely now. I felt a heat tingle in my cheeks. Funnily enough I couldn’t remember his grandfather ever having a similar effect upon me or knowing even that he had a grandson. Where had Noel been hiding him all that time?

  ‘Thanks. That’s good to hear. Everyone always speaks very fondly of him.’

  Max held my gaze for a moment looking genuinely touched by my words. It was during one of my reading weeks, home from university, that I learned that Noel had died after a short illness. Everyone who knew him in Little Leyton, and that was most people, was affected in some way by his death. He was that sort of man. The type of person who leaves a lasting impression on you and makes your life brighter just by having known them. For a long time afterwards the pub seemed changed somehow without the old man’s presence and his rocking chair by the fire, where Noel would sit when he came in, remained unused for several months in respect of his memory.

  ‘Have you always lived around here then?’ I hoped I wasn’t overstepping the mark with my question, but I hadn’t realized Noel even had any family locally. I certainly couldn’t remember him mentioning them.

  ‘No. I came here when Gramps was ill. To look after him. I’m glad I did. He lasted only a few weeks after I arrived, but I was so pleased we had that time together. Then… afterwards, well, I’d grown to like the area so much I decided to stay.’

  ‘Really?’ Funny to think that I hadn’t run into him before, on any of my previous visits home. ‘It is a lovely place to live, isn’t it? Such beautiful countryside and so many beautiful walks too, perfect dog-walking country.’ But then he probably knew that, having met him in the great outdoors with his two magnificent dogs…

  He nodded, with a smile, as though thinking the same.

  Quickly I finished up my duties behind the bar. I was just pulling on my jacket when the door opened and Johnny waltzed in.

  ‘All right?’ he greeted Max with a broad smile, as if they were old friends too – did everyone in Little Leyton know this man, apart from me? – before coming behind the bar and slipping an arm around my waist. He kissed me enthusiastically, leaving a damp patch on my cheek, and it took all my self-will not to wipe it away with the back of my hand. I gave a sheepish grin to Max, as Johnny proceeded to crush me in a bear hug.

  ‘Nice meeting you… Ellie.’ Max smiled and I felt ridiculously pleased that he’d actually remembered my name, the sound on his lips appearing seductive. Max stood up, shook Eric’s hand and nodded at Johnny, before walking out of the pub, carefully dodging the beams again. If there was one thing you could say about Max Golding it was that he was definitely all man whereas Johnny who was scrabbling around at my side, all eager-eyed and enthusiastic, was more like a puppy, in desperate need of some training.

  *

  Later as I snuggled into the crook of Johnny’s arms, my hair fanning out on his pillow, I realized I’d probably been a little hasty in my assessment of his manly qualities. Okay, so I hadn’t actually planned on coming home with Johnny, but somehow it had just happened. I sighed contentedly, intoxicated by his deliciously seductive scent. He certainly had a magical touch; maybe it was something to do with all those hours spent turning, caressing and carving wood.

  ‘You know, Ells, I’m so glad you’re back.’ He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me fondly. ‘In some ways it’s as though you’ve never been away.’

  I smiled weakly.

  ‘I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.’

  ‘No definitely, you should. Are you glad to be back?’ He took hold of my hand and squeezed it tightly, looking at me intently. Maybe it was my imagination but there seemed to be a whole load of meaning in that gesture.

  ‘Yes, it’s great. Although strange too in some ways, especially with Mum and Dad being away.’

  To be honest, I’d been far too busy lately to really notice Mum and Dad’s absence, but this morning in the post I’d received a package from Dubai. Eagerly I’d ripped off the brown paper to find a couple of small gifts, some squidgy dates and a colourful fridge magnet to add to my growing collection, plus lots of photos: Mum and dad by the harbour, pictures of their plush new villa, the complex swimming pool, the pair of them dressed up to the nines about to go off to some swanky corporate event. Looking at their happy, smiling, tanned faces made me realize just how much I missed them after all.

  ‘Everything here is so comfortable and familiar and yet in some ways it feels as though everything has changed. Things in Little Leyton have moved on – I’ve changed too, I’m not the same person I was when I was last here.’

  ‘I know, and you’ve blossomed beautifully, Miss Browne.’ Johnny chuckled, taking an exaggerated bite of my neck.

  ‘Stop it,’ I said, irritated now, pushing him away. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  ‘I know, but it happens. You’re older now, Ells. We’ve all grown up, moved on. It’s what happens in life.’

  ‘I suppose. It just feels a bit weird being back, that’s all.’ For some reason, my emotions seemed to be all over the place ever since my shift at the pub. ‘It was great meeting that guy tonight though. Noel’s grandson?’ I didn’t want to say his name aloud to Johnny; I didn’t want him thinking he’d made such an impression on me. ‘I suppose it got me thinking back to the old days.’

  Back to the days when I’d been full of enthusiasm for my future. I’d felt as though I could conquer the world. I didn’t have an inkling of doubt that I wouldn’t achieve all my goals; getting a good degree, securing a placement with a top company, finding a place to live and meeting someone special, someone equally successful, someone I could share a future with. Was coming back an admission of failure? An acceptance that things hadn’t worked out the way I’d imagined?

  ‘Max?’ Johnny said now. ‘Yeah, he seems all right. You know he lives on the Braithwaite Estate?’

  ‘Ah, I wondered. That place has shot up in less than no time.’

  ‘No, not the new housing estate. The actual estate. He owns it. Lord of the Manor, no less. Apparently, he’s spent a fortune renovating the place. Moved in about eighteen months ago. He’s a property developer. Seems to have quite a few fingers in different pies. His company was behind the development of the new housing estate.’

  When Max had told me he lived on the other side of the field, I’d naturally assumed he meant in one of the new properties on the housing estate. Not in the huge manor house itself.

  ‘Really? Oh… That is interesting.’ Fascinating, in fact. He definitely played the part of country squire to perfection. And that would explain what he was doing in the Estate grounds the day I’d met him and why he was so interested in the interloper wading about in his stream. Oh god, he ‘d probably thought I was a trespasser or something.

  Johnny sat up in bed.

  ‘You know
what we should do, Ells? We should go away for a holiday. Maybe get one of those last minute deals and head off for the sun. What do you reckon?’

  I swung my legs out of bed and retrieved my clothes from the floor, getting dressed quickly. I had an early start in the morning, a date with a Rottweiler called Harry, and it was already past midnight.

  ‘I can’t, Johnny. I’ve just committed to taking on more shifts at the pub and then there’s my dog clients. I’m only just getting things established – it wouldn’t be the right time to go away.’

  I wasn’t certain there would be a right time to go away with Johnny. Hanging out with each other in Little Leyton was one thing, but making holiday plans together would mean taking our relationship to a whole other more serious level.

  ‘Well maybe not now then, but a few months down the line, perhaps?’ Johnny climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes. ‘You’ll be due a holiday then. I know I could do with one too, I’ve not had a break in ages.’

  I pulled my hoodie over my head and picked up my bag from the floor.

  ‘Sorry, Johnny, I don’t really want to be making plans that far ahead. I’m not sure what I’m going to be doing in three months’ time. I might well be back in London.’

  ‘Really?’ A note of disappointment rang in his voice. I turned towards the door, unable to avoid walking into his embrace, his hands finding my waist. ‘I thought you’d had enough of London.’

  ‘Well I have, at the moment, but that’s not to say I won’t go back. Coming home – it was only ever meant as a temporary thing.’

  He tilted my chin up with his finger, his gaze flickering onto mine. ‘Oh Ells, don’t say that. Where would it leave us if you decide to go off again? I thought things were going well between us – that we had something special here.’

  Gazing into Johnny’s eyes, a ripple of dread swirled in my stomach as I realized I couldn’t do this anymore. As much as I liked Johnny, I knew there was no future for us as a couple. All this talk of holidays had brought it home to me. I needed to put a stop to things before we got in any deeper. I took a deep breath.