“You met her first, so you go with her,” said James to the dog. “I’ll miss you.”
The train slowed its pace. Passengers had already queued by the doors, eager to step onto the platform. Outside, the crowd under the harsh glow of the station lights blurred past the window as the train jerked to a halt. With a hiss, the doors slid open, and people burdened with bags and parcels spilled out onto the scuffed, well-trodden platform of a small commuter station just outside London.
Chatting and stretching stiff legs, the passengers moved toward the exit. James was the last to leave his carriage. No one waited for him. He wasn’t in a hurry to return to his lonely rented flat—just a place to sleep.
A few months ago, he’d divorced his wife, leaving her and their newborn daughter the flat while he moved to cheaper accommodation on the outskirts. He’d briefly dated a woman, but they’d parted ways. Three months later, she’d turned up unannounced, noticeably pregnant. He’d offered to marry her. Four months later, she gave birth to a healthy girl.
In tears, she confessed she’d been seeing someone else before him—a man who’d abandoned her the moment he’d learned of the pregnancy. Then James had come along. She had nowhere else to go, no desire to return to her hometown. He couldn’t bring himself to kick her out, so he’d left instead, filing for divorce.
Now he worked nearly every day, saving for a new flat. A mate had put together a crew and invited James along—they did upscale renovations for flats and townhouses.
James ambled to the dimly lit staircase at the end of the platform. At the bottom, he spotted a ginger dog. The animal looked at him, then back up toward the empty platform.
“Looks like no one else is coming. Did your owner miss the train? Maybe he’ll be on the last one,” James muttered before walking off.
After a few steps, he glanced back. The dog had climbed the stairs, still scanning the platform. The departing train rattled away. The dog whined, watching it go, then trotted down and caught up with James, sitting before him with a silent question in its eyes.
“What’s the move, mate? Waiting for the next train or coming with me? Won’t ask twice,” James said, turning away without another glance.
The dog hesitated, then followed—first at a distance, then alongside.
“Lonely, eh? I get it. Who’s your owner? Haven’t seen you around before. Then again, I haven’t been here long myself.”
The dog kept pace, ears pricked. They reached James’s four-story brick building, where the dog paused at the entrance.
“Come on in,” James said, holding the door wide. “Make up your mind—I’m starving and knackered.” He stepped inside but left the door cracked.
The dog padded in after him. “You’re not making this easy, are you?” James smirked, letting the door shut behind them.
The dim hallway flickered under a weak bulb.
“Up to the third floor. No lift, sorry,” James joked as they climbed. The dog bounded ahead, waiting at each landing. At his flat, James fished out his keys.
“Home sweet home.” He flicked on the light. “Come on, then. Won’t ask again.”
The dog hesitated, then entered with quiet dignity, settling by the coat rack.
“Polished, aren’t you? Respect. But since you’re here, have a look around.” James shrugged off his jacket.
The dog lay in the hall, ears twitching at every sound. When the clatter of dishes and the smell of reheated food reached him, he swallowed hard and trotted toward the kitchen.
“Knew it.” James pulled out another bowl, filled it with pasta and tinned meat, and set it near the sink.
The dog sniffed, then devoured every scrap, licking the bowl clean before fixing James with a stare.
“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got. Wasn’t expecting company.” Noticing the dog’s glance at the tap, James grinned. “Never had a dog before.” He rinsed the bowl and filled it with water. The dog drank eagerly, splashing drops everywhere.
Later, James sprawled on the sofa watching telly. The dog rested at his feet, head on his paws, but alert to every noise.
“Relax, mate.” James switched off the TV.
Yawning, he flopped onto the unfolded sofa bed. The dog stood, nails clicking as he moved aside.
“Where’d you learn manners like that? Wish you could tell me your name.”
The dog retreated to the hall.
“Oi, you can stay in here!” James called, but the dog didn’t return. “Suit yourself.”
Through the night, he heard faint whines and scratching. Groggy at dawn, he shuffled to the hall. The dog sat by the door.
“Right. Forgot about you. Know your way out?” James opened the door, and the dog bolted downstairs.
James only remembered the front door after hearing it slam shut below.
After a shower, he made sandwiches for two, boiled the kettle, pulled on a jacket, and slipped into his slippers. Downstairs, the dog waited.
“Come on, then.” James jerked his head toward the building.
The dog didn’t hesitate, darting inside and waiting by his flat. This time, he marched straight to the kitchen and gulped down the sandwiches. They left together, walking side by side to the station.
“Go on. I’ve got work. Will you be here later? No hard feelings if not.” James ruffled the dog’s ears and crossed to the opposite platform.
That evening, he stepped off the train last, wondering if the dog would be there or if its owner had finally shown. The dog waited by the stairs, tail wagging as James approached.
“Still no owner? Or were you waiting for me?” James scratched his head. “Come on, then.”
The next morning, James crouched before the dog.
“Won’t be back tonight. Got things in town. Might be a couple days. See you around, maybe.” He headed for the platform, the dog watching until he disappeared.
Work ran late—his boss demanded the house be finished. Two days later, exhausted and hungry, James arrived at the deserted station. Bright lights shone on the empty platform. No dog.
“Found his owner, I guess,” James muttered, walking home.
The sight of the empty bowl in the kitchen hit him hard. He missed the clever animal—had grown used to his company. That night, he woke to silence. No whines, no scratching. He rolled over.
The alarm blared too soon. Every muscle ached, but he dragged himself to the new job site. Not hungry, he washed the dog’s bowl, left it by the sink, and drank straight from the kettle before heading out.
At the platform, among the waiting commuters, he spotted the ginger dog beside a young woman.
“Is he yours?” James asked.
She blinked. “Why?”
“He stayed with me while you were gone. Good dog. Clever. Lucky you.”
She smiled.
“Oh, he’s not mine. He met me at the station same as you. I was away—mum was in hospital.”
“Really? What’s his name?”
“Hamlet.”
The train approached, passengers surging forward.
“See you, Hamlet,” James said.
He and the woman boarded the same carriage.
“I’m James. You?”
“Emily.”
“Bit of fate, eh? Both starting with ‘E.’ Where do you work?” He backtracked when she didn’t laugh.
“Nurse.”
They talked all the way into the city. James liked her more by the minute. Easy company. No wonder the dog chose her. She explained Hamlet’s owner, a retired university professor, had died suddenly.
“So Hamlet kept waiting for him, then latched onto me. Maybe because of the hospital smell. His owner had heart trouble,” she said.
“Why’d he pick me? I don’t smell like medicine.”
“Maybe he knew you were lonely too,” Emily said with a smile.
They arranged to meet that evening, ride home together. James worked in a daze, counting the hours. At the station, he spotted Emily from afar and waved. The ride passed in a blur of conversation.
Hamlet bounded toward them, tail whipping. Emily crouched to pet him.
“Who were you waiting for?”
He licked her hand, then nudged James.
“You met her first, so go with her,” James told the dog. “I’ll miss you.”
“Come on, Hamlet,” Emily called.
But the dog stayed put, looking between them.
“Choose quick,” James said, hoping for loyalty.
Hamlet whined, pawing the ground.
“Maybe he wants us to go together? Your place or mine?” James didn’t want to say goodbye either.
“I can’t. Hamlet, go with him,” Emily said sternly.
“Kidding. Let me walk you home. Think that’s what he wants,” James offered.
Emily sighed. “Fine.”
The dogThey walked side by side under the glow of the streetlamps, the dog leading the way, as if he already knew this was just the beginning of something new.
