“You met her first, so walk with her,” Edward said to the dog. “I’ll miss you.”
The train slowed its pace. Passengers had already formed a queue by the doors, eager to disembark. Outside, the platform lights glared brightly as the blur of people grew steadily clearer. Finally, the train jolted twice and halted. The doors slid open with a clatter, and the crowd spilled out, weighted down with bags and parcels, onto the grimy, trampled platform of a small station just outside London.
Chatting and stretching stiff legs, the passengers made their way toward the exit. Edward stepped off last. No one waited for him. He had no hurry to return to his lonely rented flat, a place he only came back to sleep.
Months ago, he had divorced his wife, leaving her and their newborn daughter the flat while he moved to cheaper lodgings in the outskirts. He had met a woman, briefly courted her, and parted ways amicably. Then, three months later, she reappeared with a noticeable bump, announcing her pregnancy. He offered marriage. Four months later, she gave birth to a healthy girl.
Tearfully, his wife confessed she had been with another man before him—one who abandoned her the moment he learned of the pregnancy. Then Edward had come along. With nowhere else to go, unwilling to return to her hometown, she had stayed. He couldn’t bring himself to cast her out. So he left instead, filing for divorce.
Now he worked nearly every day, saving for a new flat. A friend had put together a crew, inviting Edward along. They repaired flats and country homes.
Edward ambled toward the dimly lit staircase at the platform’s end. At the bottom, he spotted a russet-coated dog. The animal looked at him, then glanced back up at the platform.
“Looks like no one else is coming. Did your master not arrive? Don’t worry, maybe he’ll be on the last train,” Edward said, moving on.
After a few paces, he turned back. The dog had climbed onto the platform, searching. The departing train clattered away. The dog whined, watching it go, then trotted down the steps and approached Edward, sitting before him with a silent question in its eyes.
“What’s your plan, mate? Waiting for the next train or coming with me? This offer won’t stand twice.” Edward turned and strode off without glancing back.
The dog hesitated, then followed, keeping pace behind before drawing alongside.
“Lonely, eh? I get it. Who do you belong to? I’ve not seen you before. Then again, I’m new here myself…”
The dog listened as they walked to Edward’s four-story brick building. At the door, the dog paused.
“Come on in.” Edward held the door wide. “Make up your mind—I’m starving and dead tired.” He stepped inside but kept the door ajar.
The dog mounted the stairs slowly, passing Edward into the dimly lit hallway.
“Tricky one, aren’t you?” Edward smirked, letting the door swing shut.
“Up to the third floor. Pardon the lack of lift,” he joked.
The dog bounded ahead, pausing at each landing to wait. On the third floor, Edward stopped at his door, fishing for his key.
“Here we are. Home.” He flicked on the hallway light. “Make yourself comfortable. Won’t ask twice.”
The dog hesitated, then entered with quiet dignity, sitting by the coat rack.
“Polished manners. Respect. But since you’re here, come on, have a look around.” Edward shed his coat and moved to the kitchen.
The dog lay in the hallway, ears twitching at the clatter of dishes and the scent of reheated food. Soon, it rose and followed the smell of baked beans on toast.
“There you go.” Edward pulled another bowl from the sink, filled it, and set it by the wall.
The dog sniffed, then devoured the meal, licking the bowl clean before fixing Edward with a steady gaze.
“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got. Didn’t plan on company.” Noticing the dog’s glance at the sink, Edward understood. “Never had a dog before.” He rinsed the bowl and filled it with water. The dog lapped eagerly, splashing drops around.
Later, Edward watched telly on the sofa while the dog rested at his feet, ears pricking at every sound.
“Relax, mate. Get some rest.” He switched off the telly.
Yawning, Edward rose to unfold the sofa bed. The dog stood too, then stepped aside as if understanding.
“Where’d you learn manners like that? Would be nice to know your name.”
When the bed was ready, the dog trotted back to the hallway.
“Hey, you can stay in here,” Edward called. The dog didn’t return. “Suit yourself.”
Through the night, he heard faint stirrings—sighs, the scratch of claws. Dawn light pried his eyes open. The rustling continued. Remembering the dog, Edward stumbled out. It sat by the door.
“Right, forgot about you. Know your way out?” He opened the door, and the dog bolted downstairs.
After a shower, Edward made toast for two, filled the kettle, and slipped on his shoes to go downstairs. The dog waited outside.
“Come on then.”
This time, the dog sprinted ahead, stopping at his door.
They left together for the station.
“Go on. I’ve work. Will you be here later? No hard feelings if not.” Edward ruffled the dog’s ears before crossing to the opposite platform.
That evening, he stepped off the train last, unsure if the dog would still be there. But it was, waiting by the stairs. At the sight of Edward, it wagged its tail and approached.
“Master still missing? Or were you waiting for me? Well, come on then.”
The next morning, Edward crouched before the dog.
“Won’t be back tonight. Got things in town. Might be a couple days. See you around, maybe.”
Two nights later, exhausted and hungry, Edward returned to an empty platform. The dog was gone. “Must’ve found its owner,” he thought, trudging home.
An empty bowl in the kitchen sharpened his loneliness. He missed the clever creature. That night, he woke to silence—no rustling, no breath. He turned over.
The alarm blared too soon. His body ached, craving rest, but work called. He washed the dog’s bowl, drank water straight from the kettle, and left.
On the platform, among waiting passengers, he spotted the russet dog beside a young woman.
“Is he yours?” Edward asked.
She blinked. “Why?”
“He stayed with me while you were gone. Clever lad. Lucky you.”
She smiled. “Oh, no—he found me the same way. I was away a few days, looking after Mum in hospital.”
“Really? What’s his name?”
“Hamlet.”
Passengers stirred as the train approached.
“Bye, Hamlet.” Edward and the woman boarded the same carriage.
“I’m Edward. You?”
“Emma.”
“Well, what do you know? Both starting with ‘E.’ Destiny?” He grinned, but she didn’t laugh. “What do you do?”
“Nurse.”
They talked all the way into London. Edward liked her more by the minute. Easy company. The dog had good taste. Emma explained Hamlet’s owner, a retired professor, had died recently, never returning from the city.
“So Hamlet waited, then found me. Maybe smelled the antiseptic. His owner had heart trouble.”
“Why’d he pick me? I don’t smell like medicine.”
“Maybe he sensed you were lonely too,” Emma said.
They agreed to meet that evening, travel home together. Edward worked distracted, hurrying to the station afterward. He waved when he saw her. Time flew on the ride back.
Hamlet bounded to meet them, tail wagging. Emma crouched.
“Which of us were you waiting for?”
He licked her hand, then nudged Edward.
“You met her first, walk with her,” Edward said. “I’ll miss you.”
“Come, Hamlet,” Emma called.
But the dog stayed put, looking between them.
“Choose quick,” Edward said, hoping for loyalty.
Hamlet whined, shifting his paws.
“Maybe he wants us both. Your place or mine?”
Emma shook her head. “No, I can’t. Hamlet, go with him.”
“Only joking. Let me walk you home. Think that’s what he wants.”
She smiled. “Fine.”
Understanding, Hamlet led the way.
They walked three abreast through the quiet village streets. Now and then, the dog paused, glancing back before trotting on.
“Think he chose us both—wants us together,” Edward ventured.
Emma merely smiled.
Fate, in the form of a dog, had stepped into their lives, unwilling to part with either.
Such things happen.
