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He headed to his room, giving Beverley’s arm a pat as he went, and darted inside. His was also a single, but unlike the squabbling old ladies, he didn’t care which room he had – he was just grateful for a roof over his head and for being asked to come on this holiday.
Flopping down on the bed fully clothed, the mattress bouncing underneath him, he felt perilously close to tears. He knew Beverley had become as attached to him as he was to her, but what she’d just said made his heart ache.
He knew he had to leave, he couldn’t stay with her forever, but he now realised how much it was going to hurt her when he did, and the last thing he wanted to do was to cause the kind, cantankerous, thoughtful, irascible old lady any pain.
He lay there until the house fell silent, then with a muttered curse he swung his feet off the bed. The walls were closing in on him and he needed to get some fresh air. Being outside, away from the lingering tension, would give him a chance to think.
Ron crept out of his room, careful not to make a noise, and padded upstairs to grab a throw from the back of the sofa, then let himself quietly out of the house. As he was pulling the front door closed behind him, he thought he heard a muffled woof from Pepe and he held his breath for a moment, but when he heard nothing further he headed down the drive.
He’d only gone a few paces before he immediately felt calmer and more grounded. He knew he’d made the right decision as his feet took him in the direction of the dunes, and with each step he took, he breathed a little easier.
The night was a warm one, the air still, and the further he walked from Rest Bay, the darker it became and the quieter it grew. The only sounds were that of the rhythmic pounding of the waves, like the earth’s steadily beating heart, the occasional rustle as some small creature moved through the grass, and his footsteps.
When he felt he’d gone far enough, he slowed, looking for the best place to snuggle down in the sand, and when he found a sheltered spot in a dip between the dunes, he sank down and draped the throw over him.
Breathing deeply, he let the peace of the night soothe him, and he gazed up at the stars until sleep eventually came.
***
‘Whaaa?’ Ron grunted as something snuffled in his ear and a wet tongue slobbered up his cheek. A weight settled on his chest and he grunted again. ‘Geddofff.’
Without opening his eyes he knew he was being assaulted by a happy dog, and from the feel of its curly coat and the lingering smell of Anais Anais, Beverley’s favourite perfume, he was fairly confident it was Pepe.
Ron pushed the persistent poodle off and sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. For a second he wondered where he was and what he was doing here, until last night’s shenanigans came flooding back and he flopped back down with a sigh.
Pepe, delighted to find his human companion down on his level once more, launched another enthusiastic attack.
Ron fended the dog off, then abruptly sat up again as a thought occurred to him. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked him. ‘I hope you’re not on your own?’
Clambering to his feet and brushing the sand off his clothes, Ron scrambled to the top of a dune and gazed around.
Apart from the dog, a bee or two and several seagulls wheeling overhead, he was alone. Wondering what the time was, he turned to face the east, and took a guess that it was no earlier than about five am, and no later than about eight.
‘Where’s your mistress?’ he asked Pepe, shading his eyes with his hand as he squinted in the direction of Rest Bay. ‘Have you escaped?’
Pepe sat on his haunches and gazed up at him, his brown button eyes giving nothing away.
‘You have, haven’t you? I bet your mum is going frantic. Heel,’ he commanded, and the dog obediently followed him as he began to make his way back.
Wishing he’d thought to bring some water, Ron trudged over the dunes and cursed himself for not waking up sooner. He’d intended to return to the house before anyone was up, but stargazing until the silver light of pre-dawn streaked the sky had scuppered that plan. Flipping heck, he was out of practice at sleeping outside. For Pepe to have sneaked up on him and practically licked his face off, would have once been unthinkable. He never used to sleep very deeply – he hadn’t risked it – but eight months in a comfy bed with a securely locked front door had softened him.
Feeling irked, he grizzled to himself under his breath, until the dog’s whining made him stop. ‘Sorry, boy, am I getting on your nerves?’ he asked, then he came to a halt as he realised that it was something else that had made Pepe whimper.
Ron listened intently, his head swivelling from side to side.
It took him a moment to hear it too.
‘P-e-e-e-e-p-e-e-e-!’ It was a drawn out call, the kind of call a person had been making for some time.
Pepe whined again.
‘That’s Kate,’ Ron said to him. ‘But I expect you already know that. Hurry up, we’d better tell her you’re safe and well.’
Ron broke into a jog, and soon spotted her in the distance.
She waved, then cupped a hand around her mouth. ‘Have you seen Pepe?’ she yelled.
Ron pointed at his feet his movements exaggerated. ‘He’s here. I’ve got him,’ he shouted back, and he saw her sag with relief as she bent forward at the waist and put her hands on her hips.
