Dangerous Commitment

By Charles Smith

James was beginning to see the similarity to what was occurring on Earth. Now, from what Carolyn and Pierre were telling him he could see that those people concerned for the wellbeing of such creatures as Elephants, Lions and Tigers were signaling the start of a potentially huge problem for Earths wildlife.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477234310

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© 2012, 2014 by Charles Smith. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse   08/14/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3430-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-3431-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

PART 1   MEETING

PART 2   REVELATION

PART 3   AN HONORABLE PROJECT

PART 4   CALM BEFORE THE STORM

PART 5   ABDUCTION

PART 6   SUSPICION

PART 7   LOVE SUBLIME

This book is

dedicated to all the non human companions who share this wonderful world with us; and also to my wife Elaine, Cousin John and American friend Kay, who all reviewed this story.

The Author’s proceeds, from the sale of this book,

will be donated to animal charities.

PART 1

MEETING

Returning Home

James Hanley yawned as he looked sleepily out of the cabin window of the British Airways Boeing 747 as it descended over the huge and surprisingly green metropolis towards London’s Heathrow airport. He had been in California working with other experts on a new internet product. The meeting had been similar to most of the other dozen or so sessions that had taken place over the last eighteen months, except in one major respect—the final document had been approved with all outstanding issues resolved; meaning this was the last time the group would meet.

Being the final meeting there had been more than the usual desire to complete all of the groups’ business; so they could move to the nearest bar and relax over a beer to chat about the latest events in the industry and other matters of common interest. Their success in completing development of a complex technical document and socialising after a meeting was he considered a real example of International co-operation. Admittedly there were the odd occasions when someone wanted to get their idea accepted even when it was not always the most practical; but on the whole the group worked well and were mostly more like a group of friends than people coming together only for business. Perhaps then it was understandable that with this idyllic view of matters he started thinking irrationally; whatever the reason, he thought that if only more people conducted their business like the small group of Americans, Asians and Europeans then maybe the world would tick along better without all the aggravation that seemed to be about these days. Why was he thinking this? After all not all of their work had been that peaceful; there were the odd moments when opinions were voiced strongly and it seemed that chaos would ensue! Oh well perhaps this was not the real model for the way humans should do business, but it did have the ingredients of a good way to behave. Anyhow they had been successful in the project and maybe that was all that mattered.

Looking at his watch and seeing it was four o’clock he knew it would be another hour and a half before they landed. The flight, although comfortable, had been strangely irritating or maybe restless was a better way to describe what he felt; as the twelve hour flight from California was just the same as all other similar journeys he’d made—food and service good with friendly cabin staff always keen to make sure he was comfortable. An obvious cause was the long flight but he had become accustomed to hours in a plane; no it was something else but what? He quickly forgot the philosophical musings as a friendly stewardess brought breakfast to him; it was really only a snack—fruit juice, croissants, jam and of course tea—and was soon finished. Refreshed now that breakfast was over and with nothing else to focus his mind on he drifted off to sleep.

Sleep took him back as if by magic to dreamland and an earlier and very happy time in his life. It was all so real and like now he was nearing England in a 747 on a trip back from somewhere—but this was twelve years ago when he first started as a rookie in communications engineering. James enjoyed the work but disliked the weeks away from home it required because the time away from his lovely wife was painful—a sweet sorrow. Now he looked forward to the joy of meeting again—the thrill of seeing and touching her was just as vivid and evocative as their first meeting two years previously. The reality of it all was astounding; the plane had landed at Heathrow and in an instant, only possible in dreamland, moved from one event to another as he was now in a hire car travelling home to their new house. Well new to James and his young wife because their home was actually a sixteenth century cottage deep in Suffolk. It all seemed so real—he was now walking to the front door with its arch of fragrant old roses that gave their cottage the picture post card image of so many Suffolk cottages.

The door opened and Isabelle with the beautiful smile of hers came towards him with their young dog Sally at her feet. She put her arms round his neck and pulled him to her with the strong but tender way he had come to know. Satisfaction, safety and desire melded into a feeling of intense happiness welling up in him. He bent down to kiss her but not in a hungry passionate way that two people who have been parted and long for each other would naturally do. No this was a tender loving kiss with an unspoken but explicit meaning that only two people deeply in love can know. It was always this way on the first embrace—the passion and hunger for her could wait for a later time to seal their relationship another way. For now just holding each other was all they needed—the warmth of her body and delicate natural scent had more meaning than any spoken word; he had found her again as though she had been lost to him. Perhaps this was why he held her so tenderly—a way of saying how relieved he was to be with her again and if he held too tightly it would somehow diminish his love for her.

Thump—with a start he woke to find the plane had touched down on the runway. The rude awakening caused him to immediately realise, like anyone who has woken from a dream seemingly real, it was after all merely a pleasant recollection playing out in his mind; overwhelmed with sadness tears filled his eyes. Dear Isabelle had died five years ago on the eighteenth of July, a date burned into his memory; and since that time he had never been able to have an enduring relationship with a woman. With disappointment that it was all only a dream he forced his attention to the present and the loss of her to the back of his mind. Not that she was ever really from his thoughts—Isabelle had been such a friendly cheerful and loving person his loss was inconsolable—a void he would never be able to fill with any other woman.

Wiping the tears from his eyes he glanced towards the other passengers, conscious that others might have noticed his emotion, seeing with relief they were engrossed in their own thoughts. Looking out of the window he saw several planes, which seemed to be loaded with passengers and probably cargo, about to move towards the runway at the start of a trip to some distant land. Heathrow always seemed to James an amazing example of how humans could organise and operate large enterprises; the whole business of transportation, probably employing several thousand workers to keep people and freight moving efficiently, operated like some gigantic organism with all the bits working in harmony. Nevertheless, although he was impressed with the place he had his dislikes; well really only one—there were just too many people about; it always made him feel so insignificant.

In the baggage hall his cases came up quickly as in his experience they usually did. At this time of day this was important because he had to collect a hire car and drive round the M25; the huge Motorway, that circled completely the UK’s capital city. Getting on to this road any later than 7 o’clock would mean his journey home would take considerably longer due to the congestion from countless commuters; the joke about the M25 being the largest car park in the world was a fair view at these times. Depending on the level of traffic he could get back to Suffolk in two hours or well over three; today it looked as though he would beat the commuters and a short trip was likely.

A Lady in Distress

James wasn’t a fast driver; not because he didn’t enjoy speeding and fast cars, in fact he owned a BMW sports coupe, but with nine points awarded to him for speeding offences another three would mean the loss of his licence. Prudently then he had adopted a policy of keeping within the legal limit; meaning the pedestrian nature of the hire car against the three hundred horsepower of the BMW wasn’t a disadvantage in terms of speed; but with its bland interior and basic seats was definitely less enjoyable to drive than his own car. Nevertheless, after some forty five minutes on the motorway he took the M11 towards Cambridge and within another twenty reached the A120 taking this in the direction of Colchester.

He lived in the North Suffolk village of Belhaven near the border with Norfolk and close to the little town of Southwold nestling on the coast between the sunken town of Dunwich and the large town of Lowerstoft. Appreciating it would be another hour or so before he reached home he thought; Oh well the morning is pleasant enough I might as well enjoy the drive, anyway after the hustle and bustle of the airport this is pure pleasure.

Driving east the bright sunny morning turned overcast with spots of rain starting to appear on the windscreen. It was the sort of rain he found irritating, as there wasn’t enough for full wiper motion, causing the blades to dry the screen and scrape the surface creating an irritating screeching sound of rubber against glass. Switching to intermittent wipe he found the fixed sweep time wasn’t quite enough to keep the screen clean. This was another limitation of the hire car against his BMW causing him to consider what other features he enjoyed in his car that were absent; however, he didn’t have time to identify anything as his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a person in the distance walking with difficulty along the grass verge; approaching, it became obvious it was a woman. She appeared to be smartly dressed for business rather than pleasure and this view was re-enforced when he saw she was carrying a small briefcase. She must be in trouble—limping with one shoe off, which if I’m not mistaken is in her left hand.

Uncertain about offering help, as there seemed to be so many stories of motorists who stopped to do a good deed being attacked, he thought; gosh, this can’t be one of those cases this poor woman really does need help. So as he passed her he slowed down and stopped a few metres in front of her; stepping out of the car he realised how nasty the conditions had become. Rain was now being driven by the strengthening wind to make even his short walk along the roadside uncomfortable and dangerous. Reaching her he was immediately struck by her looks even though he had only seen her for a few seconds; she was beautiful even with the wind blown hair and wet clothes.

His arrival caused her to stop and look at him, although not as he’d expected with a look of relief at being rescued from this hazardous and wet place; instead her demeanour seemed to question his intentions but more obviously showed her concern at his approach. Seeing this he said; I’m sorry you’re in trouble is there anything I can do? You can’t continue walking along the road it’s dangerous; will you accept a lift from me or perhaps I can call out the rescue services for your car wherever that is. By saying this he had assumed the obvious, that her car had broken down; the fact that he hadn’t passed any abandoned vehicle on this lonely section of road didn’t immediately occur to him as odd. Not surprising really as his thoughts were on this lovely lady and not so much on why she was in this plight.

She didn’t reply; something he found strange as the conditions were becoming worse by the minute; with the rain now pouring down her damp clothes were becoming wet and starting to drip. Clearly there was nothing more he could say as it was now up to her to accept his offer or continue her walk in the horrible conditions. I guess she’s trying to figure out if I’m one of those guys who will take her to some lonely spot and then attack her. Surely I don’t look as if I might do that? But then again what is the characteristic of such a low life person? Maybe they can look smart and intelligent meaning a villain can come in many forms. Still I can see why she might be concerned; because once in my car she would be under my control. What a world when a guy wants do a good deed and his intentions are considered criminal or at least dishonourable.

Well, she’s had a good look at me and is still not answering just doing what I guess is trying to figure out if my intentions are honourable. No that can’t be it she’s not looking at me in any worried manner; in fact I get the distinct impression she’s not concerned about me being one of the bad guys; it’s as if she’s interested in me in some other way. Heck that’s ridiculous; I’m reading more into this than is reasonable. Anyhow I’m getting wet now so this damsel in distress had better make her mind up quick; still I can’t leave her here I’d feel real guilty if anything happened to her. In an attempt to get a reply he was about to try another way to persuade her he really was offering help and didn’t mean her harm when she spoke.

I would be grateful for a lift it is awful out here.

Can I help you to the car because I see you only have one shoe on?

Yes thank you. Unfortunately I slipped off the kerb spraining my ankle and damaging the shoe at the same time. It was then worse trying to walk with it on than in my stockings.

The only way James could assist her was to put his arm round her waist and take the load off her left leg. As he pulled her close to him he felt her body stiffen slightly and then relax. That’s strange, he thought, she’s been affected by my touch, I guess it’s just the surprise of my firm grip. No it’s more than that, almost as if something passed between us. Why have I this sense of excitement? Probably because I’ve never before put my arm round a complete stranger—and a beautiful one at that. As they walked the short distance to the car his excitement was replaced by a belief that she was as aware of him as he was of her, although not in the expected way of physical attraction. This is really strange but a tad delightful; a woman like this would make any red blooded man’s pulse race, still this feeling is not desire, although she’s a beautiful woman. How can I explain it? Yes, a warm inner satisfaction as though I’ve just met someone who’s been away from me a long time.

Opening the door he turned her towards him intending to assist her gently down into the seat. She was now facing him with her well-proportioned and shapely chest almost but not quite touching him. For a brief moment their eyes met and then almost too hurriedly she averted hers whilst pushing him away to refuse his help. Then rather awkwardly she manoeuvred herself into the seat, but as she lifted her legs over the car’s sill he couldn’t help noticing how attractive they were. Slightly embarrassed by this thought he quickly turned away, but as he did so he noticed a large bruise on her left leg. Your leg looks sore can I get you something from the first aid kit?

Her response was almost too quick; no thank you I’ll wait, besides it’s not really hurting me.

The injury looked angry and he couldn’t accept it wasn’t painful, but decided not to press the offer because he thought it possible her refusal resulted quite reasonably from a concern about a stranger touching her leg, if only for first aid. After all she knew nothing about him and as an attractive woman she was right to be careful, as a touch of her leg to administer a wound dressing could lead to other things. By now he was getting wet as the light rain had turned to a downpour; and so with her safely in the car he closed the passenger door and quickly returned to the driver’s side.

Stationary on a busy road wasn’t the best place to consider what action was needed to help her, so he drove a short distance to a stretch of road with a wide expanse of grass; here, away from traffic, they would be able to safely discuss what to do. He always thought of himself as a gentleman but was a little guarded when dealing with women in case they thought an offer of assistance condescending. Experience on the London Tube had taught him offers of help weren’t always accepted; on several occasions he had offered his seat to a woman only to be snubbed. So now, although he always felt uncomfortable when a woman was standing and he was seated, he didn’t make an offer anymore. Anyhow this situation was quite different, this woman clearly needed help and gentlemen or not any reasonable person would attempt to do what they could.

My name’s James Hanley, I live in north Suffolk right up on the coast. I know that’s not important now but I thought if you knew my name and where I was going it would make you feel a little more confident, as it must be unnerving being in a car with a strange man. I can assure you however, I will do whatever you want of me to get you to where you are going. Where do you want me to take you?

Again she hesitated, seemingly considering what to say, then after a few moments said something that surprised him. I don’t know where I want to go and I am not sure where I’ve come from.

Her reply suggested to him she’d experienced something dramatic affecting her memory; and he mentally fumbled to think of something useful to say. There are several possibilities I can think of. I could call the Police to come out and help you; or maybe take you to a Hotel, although if you feel sick or worried it might be more sensible to take you to a Hospital. He was thinking here that her loss of memory was due to an accident or other recent traumatic event.

No, its kind of you to suggest those things but I’m very confused and need to think before I decide where I want to go.

What an Earth can I do? Gentleman or not this is a situation that defies any obvious solution. For a few moments they sat in silence; she looking straight ahead through the rain lashed windscreen, he trying to figure out what she might agree to; then it became obvious there was really only one realistic option. Perhaps she would come home with me; the house is definitely big enough with four bedrooms and much more space than I need. Still there is a problem—she might think my intentions are dishonourable. Oh well whether she takes that view or not I’m going to suggest that to her.

To his surprise she looked relieved; yes, I would be very grateful to you and perhaps I could stay for a few days to recover myself. After all it seems silly that I don’t know where I have come from or where I was intending to go. A few days may bring my memory back.

Embarrassed at the thought of taking her home he decided, or more honestly persuaded himself, that he did indeed have honourable intentions; and really did only want to help her. In truth however, he was fascinated with her and didn’t want this chance encounter to end as abruptly as it had started. Endeavouring to hide his conflicting emotions he asked; I know you’re confused but I hope you can answer one thing.

Oh and what’s that? she replied in an absent-minded way.

Can you remember your name?

Turning away from the intense almost trance like gaze at the road ahead she looked straight at him; her face showing a concern expressed more strongly by the vague look in her eyes, as if she was searching for a reason to her predicament. He soon realised why when she replied; how odd, I know for sure my name is Carolyn Macy but I can’t recall anything else—this is really worrying.

James had never met anyone with memory loss and was unsure how to reply; however, being a kindly and optimistic person he felt the need to say something reassuring to ease her concern. After all not only had she lost her memory but she had also found herself walking along a lonely rain swept road. Nevertheless, wanting to say something useful but being able to articulate anything helpful was a different and more complicated matter more suited to a psychologist. He decided to take the easy option and changed the subject. I think its time we started moving, there’s still another hour or so to Belhaven. To his surprise instead of ignoring his intention she became in an instant a different woman.

Belhaven, what an attractive name; have you lived there a long time?

Her distant behaviour had been replaced by an alert and clearly interested demeanour. His tension about what to say evaporated, as his thoughts became more positive about her state of mind. Perhaps this interest in where I live is a start that may cause her to relax, and could be a small step to her memory returning; anyhow it’s a subject I can comfortably talk about.

Actually no, it’s quite a small village with only two hundred or so inhabitants; but being one of the larger villages in the area we’re fortunate in having a shop that sells papers and food. There’s also a post office and most importantly a Pub where I meet my friends. So all the immediate needs for living are on our doorstep, meaning there isn’t any need to travel to Southwold, our nearest town, more than a couple of times a month. My cottage is close to the centre of the village and overlooks the village green with the Dog and Duck on the other side.

Have you lived there long?

For about twelve years. I’m really happy there and can’t imagine living anywhere else; it’s one of those rare places where everybody seems to know everybody else; meaning in the nicest possible way it’s not possible to be lonely or have any secrets. There’s a real feeling of community with people keen to help if you have any problem.

She was silent for a few moments and then asked a really peculiar question. What is a Pub?

For a moment he was lost for words. Why had she only asked about the Pub, what about the Dog and Duck or for that matter the village green; only someone not familiar with the UK or England in particular would ask such a question? It then occurred to him that she might be from another country because she spoke English with the attractive rhythm only a native French speaker has. I’m surprised you’ve not heard the term before, it’s a commonly used abbreviation for Public House—a place where a glass of beer or other liquor can be bought and enjoyed; but perhaps there is another purpose for such a place and its certainly true in Belhaven, it acts as a meeting place providing what I suppose could be considered a centre for the community.

She looked at him in surprise and in a flash he understood why. I must apologise I forgot your temporary memory loss. This was the first time he’d spoken about what he believed she was suffering from and for some reason felt awkward at raising the subject; however, his embarrassment was short lived as her next statement seemed to confound the notion of someone with a memory lapse.

Oh yes I see, so the Dog and Duck is a Pub then.

Mystified he thought, I suppose it’s obvious, but how would she reason that the Dog and Duck is a Pub if she didn’t know what a Pub is? Nevertheless, being acutely aware of her confused state of mind he initially decided any comment on the paradox would likely cause her more stress; then changed his mind taking the view that it wasn’t a paradox at all but an early indication that her memory was returning; so he replied as though there wasn’t any conflict in what she’d been asking. Yes that’s right, and the fact that you knew the old Dog and Duck was where the village meets for a drink could mean your memory is returning; although as you’ve never been to Belhaven why did you assume our Pub is called the Dog and Duck.

I suppose that is odd but what else could a building with such an unusual name be.

He was about to respond to this apparently obvious remark when he saw that she had settled herself back into the comfort of the large leather seat and was clearly not interested in any more discussion.

This particular stretch of the A120 followed the line of the ancient Roman Stane Street, which linked Colchester in the east to Chichester in the south. At most times of the day this was a busy road with only a few periods of light traffic; such as now where only the occasional vehicle was within their sight; affording him the opportunity to take his eyes off the road for brief glances at her. He considered her to be between twenty-five and thirty with beautiful blonde hair cut to shoulder length; and although now wet and dishevelled was, for some reason he couldn’t figure out, suggestive of a passionate woman. Her eyes were now closed but he knew these were deep blue and if she hadn’t been so wet he would have seen them emphasised by a delicate line of mascara; now all he saw was a faint black smudge where the mascara had trickled down her cheek. Her lips, which were made up with dark pink lipstick, were full and convinced him she really was a passionate woman. Dressed in a light grey suit with a knee length skirt, now pulled higher to expose more of her legs, she was he thought the sort of woman most men would be privileged to know. Seeing her left leg was crossed over her right in a way he considered attractive he felt a slight flutter in his chest; however, the amorous thought was fleeting as he saw how her pretty leg had been badly grazed by some sort of fall. Having spent more time looking at her than concentrating on the road he was oblivious to the danger to himself and other road users; the sound of a horn brought him abruptly back to what he should have been intent on as he realised with dismay the car was not only crawling along at less than thirty miles an hour but moving dangerously across the road; giving an annoyed lorry driver good reason to cajole him into moving faster.

The remainder of the drive was uneventful apart from the rain as this caused the journey to take longer than normal; but he supposed gave her the opportunity to recover to some extent from her obvious ordeal. Two hours after his meeting with her he steered the car over the small bridge, which crossed a stream, into his driveway and gently brought it to a stop. She was still asleep and looking just as attractive as his first impression. For sure she’s a beautiful woman, have I really only brought her here to help her?

Furry Friends

James opened the door of his cottage to be met by the familiar sweet scent of an old house; although he’d entered his front door many times over the years it was the same on each occasion—an inviting aroma evoking a feeling of happiness to be home again. Quite different to other places he’d lived in where returning after a trip was frequently a disappointment; with the buzz of travel and new places replaced by the return to the same. Now, as on each previous occasion, he felt excitement; almost as if he were being willed to enter to find something or someone there to welcome him.

Built around 1570 it had been home to several generations of the same family; a fact he considered remarkable and romantic; all those people who had lived here over the years—enjoying the good times in family life and necessarily steadfast in the bad; although he was convinced there weren’t too many of those as the house just exuded a welcome. Perhaps it was in some way a meld of happiness left behind by the previous residents that made this place so special. He considered himself fortunate to have bought the property, as it had been on sale only once in 400 years. In fact it had only come onto the market because the latest part of the family had been left a large fortune. This had permitted them to fulfil their ambition and move to a villa in the South of France. In spite of this they had not entirely cut their ties with the cottage—a clause in the sale agreement committed him to offer the cottage to the family, who had a right to buy it back. Clearly this had been a happy home, and the family keeping their interest in the property, was further evidence at least to James that this was a special place.

Carolyn was still asleep so he decided he would unload the car before waking her. As he put the last case into his bedroom he heard a noise downstairs and quickly returned to the ground floor to check if she was alright. Entering the sitting room he saw her standing looking at his picture of Sally and Belle—his two dogs—in what seemed to be a sort of trance. Her gaze was so intense she didn’t appear to notice his entrance; before he could speak she spoke without taking her eyes off the portrait; what are these creatures? They’re magnificent. Seemingly unaware of his presence he considered her question was merely a vocalisation of her thoughts.

Tapping her gently on the shoulder he said, Welcome to my house Carolyn, I hope you like it; by the way the picture is of my two dogs. The large one, although I suppose you know, is a German Shepherd and the small one a Border Terrier. I had the picture painted last year from a photograph taken at Castle Drogo in Devon. Do you like it?

She turned to face him; it’s one of most interesting pictures I’ve seen. Animals like this are so rare and to have them to live with you must be something very special perhaps even a privilege.

James loved his dogs but had never considered living with them a privilege. In fact the whole statement from Carolyn was strange, suggesting she’d never had close contact with a dog; he also noted she didn’t appear to know the dogs breed, although this wasn’t of itself unusual, because many people thought a German Shepherd was an Alsatian—a misconception that had come about in the Second World War when the name German Shepherd was, he assumed, believed to be disloyal. Now of course the proper name was used and Belle as a German Shepherd certainly had those sheep dog instincts; frequently trying to round up Sally on a walk as though she was a wayward sheep. He was about to reply when the real significance of what she’d said occurred to him; she doesn’t know that these two are dogs? No that’s ridiculous it must be her memory loss! I’d better ignore that in case it gives her more stress. Only partly convinced loss of memory was the reason for her apparent lack of knowledge he replied in a light-hearted way. To some extent it’s a privilege although at times they’re a couple of rogues and would try the patience of a Saint. Most of the time though we just live together enjoying each others company—a real happy situation.

Where are they now?

When I’m away on business I take them to a friend of mine who runs a kennel—more of a dog hotel really as they get heated beds, good food, games with other dogs and walks. We can pick them up later today and I’ll introduce you to them. As he said this he saw her smile for the first time.

I’ll look forward to that, I’ve never had close contact with a dog, do they speak to you?

Captivated by her smile he ignored the apparent absurdity of her question only seeing a completely different Carolyn; still beautiful but in a friendly way with the icy business like appearance completely melted away. Then, as if jolted back to reality by some subconscious process, he realised her question was ridiculous; convinced now she must either be suffering a major memory loss or really didn’t know anything about dogs. Then it became obvious what she meant and he replied, speak, well yes in away. They don’t of course articulate in English but their mannerisms and looks are a sort of language I’ve come to understand; whilst they quickly learn what I want of them from what I say and my gestures. Belle in particular is very intelligent; I sometimes wonder when she gazes at me intently if she’s reading my mind.

I’m sure they have the means to interact directly without speaking words—yes I’m sure of it.

Taken out of context this would have seemed a statement without any basis in fact; however, from what he had said to her James merely accepted her comment was a credible assessment of how he communicated with his two great friends.

After flying back from a long trip James usually felt tired and would on most occasions go straight to bed for two to three hours. Today he felt a mixture of excitement, at having such a beautiful woman with him, but weary and not able to think clearly about her predicament. The decision on what he should do was obvious—he would be more able to help her after his normal rest; however, he couldn’t leave her as she was still damp and dishevelled. Carolyn please don’t think me presumptuous but I normally take a rest after a long trip, and as I believe you must also be tired from traipsing along that road, perhaps you would like to do the same. I have four bedrooms and one of them I use as a guest room. Would you like to use it for a while? After a rest we can go to the Dog and Duck for a drink and a meal, and over lunch you can tell me what you want to do.

I’d like that although I don’t have any clothes with me and can’t go to bed in these wet things. Anyhow before I think of bed I’d like a shower to warm me up, I’m starting to feel very cold.

No problem the room has a shower and you can borrow a pair of my pyjamas; I guess you’ll be swamped in them but they’ll do for now. Seeing a glimmer of a smile at his suggestion he knew she was becoming relaxed in his company even though he was a complete stranger. Perhaps it was his tired state, as the bizarre situation of a lone helpless woman prepared to accept his offer of a bed didn’t occur to him; for all she knew he might have an ulterior motive in offering his bedroom facilities—after all once she was asleep he could take advantage of her. But none of this entered his mind only what they could do after their rest. And this afternoon we can go to Norwich where you can buy whatever clothes you need for your stay. His reference to shopping for clothes in Norwich reminded him of the obvious and he exclaimed, how silly of me there are plenty of clothes in the guest room. The wardrobe is full of what my wife used to wear. She was about the same size as you, so as an expedient you are welcome to use whatever you want.

He led her upstairs to the bedroom, which had a comfortable looking double bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers and pictures of animals on the walls. On the floor there was a blue carpet that didn’t match with the rest of the room; and although nicely decorated it hadn’t obviously been planned by someone with a natural flair for design.

Did you decide the décor?

Yes. I thought I made a good job of it.

She agreed the room was pleasant but tactfully declined to comment on the obvious conflict.

Its eleven o’clock now; I’ll have a couple of hours sleep and call you about one if that’s alright.

Yes that’s very kind of you; she replied as he left for his bedroom.

James now had one thing on his mind—to get to bed and let sleep recover his mental and physical capabilities. Probably because of this he didn’t wonder why she hadn’t asked about Isabelle; the paradox of a woman—a stranger—coming into his house, and not interested in where his wife was or what she might think on returning to find a strange woman in her house, didn’t occur to him.

Alone and not really tired, having used the ploy of weariness to mislead him into believing she would sleep until one o’clock, she could explore the cottage. However, this would have to wait until her immediate needs—to wash and select a clean dry dress—were satisfied. Carolyn knew she wouldn’t be disturbed for well over an hour and took the opportunity to enjoy a bath where she could relax in a way impossible in a shower—luxuriating in the warmth that permeated her cold damp body. Refreshed and eager to investigate the cottage she returned to the bedroom and opened the wardrobe; an array of Isabelle’s clothes appeared. After trying several dresses against her she selected one that she decided fitted her best; showing off her trim attractive figure and complimenting her blue eyes and blond hair.

Looking out of the bedroom window she saw that the garden was full of plants of all shapes and sizes. Most of these were either new to her, or she had forgotten what they were called, as irritatingly none of the names came to her; however, the plant covered with large double pink flowers and what seemed to be thorny stems looked familiar. At the end of the garden there was a small river with some very large birds swimming and dipping their heads and neck into the water. After a few moments of looking she exclaimed, I’m sure they’re called Swans.

Turning to look back into the bedroom she decided this really was a nice cosy room even if the carpet colour was wrong. Her thoughts returned to him and the opinion formed when she’d met him—that he was kind, thoughtful and very handsome. In reality of course, apart from his looks, she really knew nothing of him; sadly thinking she might never know him long enough to be convinced that her first impression was correct. Pushing these thoughts to the back of her mind she said under her breath, oh well as he’s asleep I’ll go and look round the cottage and perhaps learn more of him from his home.

She knew from what James had said that the cottage was very old; although had she not known this its age would have been obvious as all the rooms were heavily beamed; with most of the beams worn away or maybe eaten by something, as there were many small holes in them. The sitting room had a huge brick fireplace and in it a grate with logs of wood ready for a fire. Off the sitting room there was an office with a strange looking piece of equipment; it had a keyboard and large glass screen. Must be some sort of knowledge processing machine, she thought in a disinterested way as her attention became focused on the office walls. These were covered with photographs; mostly of James with his two dogs but there was one of him in the centre of a small group and another with an attractive dark haired woman. Her eyes lingered on the woman’s features and then on him. Speaking softly she said, James Hanley you are a very attractive man. Then sadly, dear me I mustn’t allow myself to become involved, it can’t last.

Carolyn had spent almost two hours looking round the cottage seeing all the rooms with one exception—James’ bedroom. As he hadn’t appeared she assumed he was still asleep giving her the opportunity, which with her inquisitive nature she couldn’t resist, to see what his room was like. The door wasn’t on the latch allowing her to open it without making a noise. Seeing him asleep she walked in quietly and started to consider how this man, who had so gallantly rescued her, lived in this most personal of his rooms. Just as all the other rooms it’s nicely decorated although here the colour perfectly matches the furniture including the four poster bed; the rooms tidy with nothing on the floor except—what’s that? A large slightly grubby looking rug on his side of the bed covered in black and tan hairs—that must be for Belle and over there on a chair what seems to be a small oval bed for the little dog Sally. So he sleeps with his dogs how interesting—he must really love them. This belief in his regard for the two dogs seemed to make James even more appealing to her as if it might be confirmation that her first impressions of him were truly accurate. He rather than his room then became uppermost in her mind and she looked towards him. Perhaps it was coincidence or maybe he felt her gaze but almost immediately he yawned and opened his eyes.

For moment he was confused; how could such a lovely person be in his bedroom? Then he remembered that he had invited Carolyn to stay with him; it wasn’t some sort of dream this beautiful woman with a noble face and intelligent blue eyes really was in his room. As his eyes met hers it seemed that an invisible message passed between them; even though the contact was over almost before it had commenced as she immediately averted her eyes in embarrassment at being in his bedroom. He arrogantly thought, so she likes me. There can’t be any other reason for looking away so quickly other than to hide what’s in her eyes. Well I certainly like her, I wonder if she saw that. Then he felt embarrassment at being in bed in front of a woman he’d only just met and attempted to cover this by saying, Carolyn you’re already awake—just give me ten minutes and I’ll meet you downstairs.

She replied diffidently just as someone might who’d been discovered doing something they felt guilty about. I just came to see if you were awake. Without waiting for an answer she turned and left the room.

He walked into the sitting room true to his word that he wouldn’t keep her waiting. She, now composed after her discomfort at being discovered in his bedroom, attempted to put on an air of disinterest, hoping to quell what she thought he had seen in her eyes, but couldn’t help admiring him; dressed in a mauve shirt with open collar, grey trousers, soft looking brown shoes and a blue jacket he looked smart and attractive. Unable to take her eyes off him she thought, why am I so affected by this man? I do have an intense physical attraction to him but it’s much more than that, something far deeper. Still I must control myself otherwise he’ll see how strong my interest is; and as we don’t know much about each other he might think I only want him for how he can make me feel as a woman. I can’t deny that’s in my mind but in some way he’s much more important to me than the bodily pleasures.

James with a beaming smile said, come on let’s go and get lunch at the Pub; it’s only a few minutes across the green so we can walk.

Belhaven was a small community where most of the Dog and Ducks customers, the regulars as Martha the Pub licensee called them, were known to each other. So when the door opened and a beautiful stranger walked in the usual casual glance by those in the bar, to see which of their acquaintances it was, instantly became one of intense interest; with low level comments of admiration replacing noisier bar room chat. This sudden change in sound caused Martha’s attention to be diverted from pulling a pint—to what was the focus of interest. She saw the woman with James following; then feeling wetness on her feet realised with annoyance that she had overfilled the glass. He was a great friend of hers but since the death of his wife he hadn’t been seen in the village with another woman; so she didn’t immediately realise that he and Carolyn were together.

James’ entry caused attention at least temporarily to be switched from her. With many friendly comments directed at him Carolyn now saw a different side to the man she was interested in, thinking, he’s obviously known and liked here and the woman behind the bar looks really pleased to see him; I wonder if she’s in a relationship with him.

Martha this is Carolyn she’s staying with me for a few days.

Nice to meet you, any friend of James is a friend of mine.

Carolyn didn’t know what to say to this friendly welcome merely replying that she was looking forward to spending a few days with James and seeing the local area. She did have one question though. Why is this called the Dog and Duck, it’s such a strange name?

Well dear we don’t really know. The old place has been here for over two hundred years and it seems has always been called by that name.

James intervened, I imagine it’s because this area was, and actually still is, used for hunting with dogs over the marshes. The dogs recovered the ducks after they were shot. The hunters would then likely come to the Pub for a drink and meal after the hunt.

You mean they were killed James? Why would they do that?

Martha saw that the question had caused a number of the regulars to look towards Carolyn in surprise. After all in an area noted for its sport of Duck shooting such a question would never occur to these people; it was just one of the normal activities of country life. On most occasions Martha considered it almost a duty to make a comment when someone in the bar said something silly or contentious; even when it wasn’t her place to do so. Now she couldn’t think of anything sensible to say; merely presenting the same amused and surprised demeanour as the others in the bar. James, although just as surprised as the others, believed Carolyn’s memory loss was the reason for these naïve questions and attempted to downplay the impact of what she’d asked; most are sold to the local butcher and end up being eaten.

Carolyn, not seeming to realise the strangeness of her questions said sadly, oh yes I suppose that would be the reason.

Seeing a few smirks he continued in an attempt to make it all sound reasonable without explaining about Carolyn’s memory loss; sounds a bit odd I guess but Carolyn’s a city girl and has never been interested in the sort of sports we enjoy round here.

Martha quickly realised that James, who she had been friends with for several years, was feeling awkward at the way the woman with him had reacted. She knew the excuse of inexperience in country life wasn’t credible; after all even the most naïve city dweller must know that by shooting a Duck it would be killed. So even though she was just as intrigued as the others she sought to ease his discomfort by ending the discussion, saying, are you in here for lunch or just a drink James?

As they were eating James heard one of his friends say to Martha that the big house in Waverly Park had now been let. This was really only of passing interest to him because he used a footpath through the grounds of the house to take his dogs walking to the coast. So he didn’t comment but looked towards the bar as if waiting for any further information, hearing none thought, I hope the path won’t be closed as it’s one of my favourite walks.

Seeing his reaction to the discussion about new tenants Carolyn said, you seem to be interested in Waverly Park James, is there something special about it?

I don’t know about the house I’ve never been inside; the Park’s a nice place to take the dogs for a walk and convenient being only a couple of kilometres away. We can go there tomorrow and take them with us through the park to the coast; only if you want to of course.

Her reply was spontaneous and exuberant; it may surprise you James but I’ve never walked with a dog. So yes I’d really love to do that and can’t wait to meet them.

With lunch over they bid fair-well to Martha and set off for Norwich.

Martha watched them leave thinking, she’s certainly an attractive woman but I’ve got a feeling there’s much more to her than meets the eye. James seems so attentive to her I wonder if he’s got thoughts of being more than a just a friend. When I get him alone I’ll find out where he met her and what his intentions are.

Being only about an hour to the city they arrived mid afternoon and after parking the car James guided her to a large department store. His only other experience of taking a woman shopping was the occasional trip he’d made with Isabelle; because she would spend what seemed to him hours deciding what to buy he thought it probable all women were the same; and so with the intention of not interfering in her choices, just as he had done with Isabelle, he decided to adopt the same approach, saying at the entrance to the store, I’m sure you’ll enjoy shopping more if I’m not around so I’ll meet you in a couple of hours if that’s OK.

His assessment of women and shops didn’t apparently apply to Carolyn, at least for now, as to his surprise she replied, no it’s not OK James; I’m still not feeling myself and this is a strange place for me although it all looks very interesting. So please stay and help me choose.

Her reason seemed plausible even if a little unusual; still it wasn’t reasonable to refuse her even though the idea of tramping round racks of women’s clothes didn’t appeal to him. Yes of course but I hope you can find what you need quickly.

Well how about that—wonders do happen she’s actually not taking much time at all. Must be because she really is feeling poorly or this woman is the exception to the rule. Following meekly not daring to comment he saw that Carolyn knew exactly what she wanted; and as she had a slim figure and he supposed of average build there were many items to choose from. The relatively short time she was taking wasn’t the only unusual thing about her; she’s buying a complete wardrobe—a business suit, several dresses, skirt and blouses; several pairs of shoes plus a pair of walking boots! Why has she bought those? Yes of course I mentioned about a walk tomorrow.

She paid for the shoes promptly handing the bags to him even though he was already overloaded with most of the other things she’d bought, saying in a matter of fact sort of way; that’s all I need so we can go home now.

Struggling to hold all the bags he blurted out, I’m amazed you’ve completed in less than two hours what many other women would have taken all day to do. It’s now obvious why you wanted me to stay with you—all this stuff needed more than one pair of hands to carry to the car; still even with the two of us there’s too much to cart through the streets, I’ll get the store to deliver anything you don’t need for a day or so.

The Kennel was some three kilometres from his cottage just off the main road into Belhaven; and with only light traffic after leaving Norwich they made good time arriving ten minutes before it closed. As the BMW pulled up in front of the kennel James realised he hadn’t put blankets over the rear seats; without these the plush leather might get scratched with a mess of hairs spilling out over the floor as his two hairy friends leapt in; dog hairs were he knew a real pain to get off carpets and crevices of the seats. Turning to Carolyn he said, while I go to see Jim and collect the two reprobates will you get some blankets out of the boot and cover the rear seats.

Having placed blankets on the seat as he’d requested she waited by the side of the car in anticipation of what was to come. She didn’t have long to wait; a magnificent large black and tan coloured dog had appeared from the direction James had taken, and was charging towards the car followed by a much smaller dog obviously trying to keep up with the bigger friend. Behind them James followed with a broad grin and outstretched arms as if to say; I really did try to control them but look they’re so keen to get home they just have to get into the car as fast as possible. A rear door was open and Belle without any thought, other than a strong desire to get into the car, pushed past Carolyn and jumped into the back seat. Sally was about to follow but didn’t, stopping abruptly in front her. As James approached he was surprised to see that Sally was looking straight at Carolyn, who appeared to be completely fascinated by the little dog; the interest was clearly mutual as Sally ignored his request for her to get into the car, causing him to decide that there must be more to their interaction than just an inquisitive dog gazing at a human. As this thought went through his mind Belle did something she’d never done before; because once in the car she would always stay there until they reached the cottage, and then couldn’t wait to get out and into the house. It was always the same but not now, she leapt out of the car to join Sally and gaze at Carolyn. She and the dogs were oblivious to him; whilst he watched fascinated by something he’d never seen before—his two canine friends sitting mesmerized in front of a stranger.

As if coming out of a trance Carolyn turned to him saying, sorry James but I couldn’t find enough blankets to cover the complete seat; I hope Belle hasn’t made too much of a mess in the back.

Still trying to figure out why the dogs had acted in a way he’d never seen before his response was vague and detached. That’s alright its dry today and I suppose they have clean feet. He continued as one might expect when dogs seemingly instantly relate to someone they’ve never been introduced to; they don’t do that very often I guess they’ve really taken to you Carolyn.

They’re wonderful James I just know we are all going to be good friends. As she took her eyes off them they turned from her and silently jumped into the rear seat.

He settled into the driver’s seat bemused by what he’d seen, speaking as someone who had observed a strange occurrence might. I’ve not seen them do that before; almost as though you and the dogs were conversing in some silent language. Daft I know but for two really hyped up dogs to sit in front of you, a stranger, for several minutes could really be taken that way. I could just about accept Sally getting friendly with a stranger, Belle never—she’s always been wary of anyone new, needing to be introduced before deciding to accept as friend or foe. Still dogs and people talking to each other I must be day dreaming.

Disregarding his observation she said something that could be construed to confirm the bizarre notion; those two really love you James, you’re fortunate to have two such faithful friends. He couldn’t decide whether in saying this she was serious, or playing some sort of mind game with the intention of making him appear gullible; concluding that the best course of action was to stay silent.

The drive back to the cottage was uneventful with the dogs well behaved as usual after a visit to the kennel. At other times Belle in particular could be fidgety moving about to get comfortable; conversely a stay in the kennel seemed to make them aware how fortunate they were to have such a good home. James had always believed their behaviour on these occasions was their way of telling him how grateful and happy they were to be back with him and on their way home. Now he wasn’t so sure—the bizarre behaviour he’d just seen caused him to doubt his conviction about their mindset—after all he opined to himself, "how would I