“You’re up early,” I say, mentally adding ‘for a teenager’.
“Yeah, been helping my mum, then thought I’d come and plug myself into the matrix. Can’t get wi-fi in my house.”
I can only imagine what torture that must be for someone of his age, and nod sympathetically. This, I realise, is probably where all the youths of Starshine Cove hang out, desperate for a glimpse of TikTok or to post on Instagram.
“I’m Dan,” he says, offering me his hand to shake in a very grown-up way. “I’m Connie’s son. Nice dog.”
“He is, isn’t he?” I reply, finding myself inappropriately proud. “No idea who he actually belongs to…”
“Kind of looks like he’s decided he belongs to you…but I suppose you could take him to the vet, maybe get him scanned?”
“Scanned?” I repeat dumbly, my mind immediately imagining Larry wriggling inside an MRI tube or licking the lube off an ultrasound wand.
“Yeah, you know – for a microchip. Most dogs have them these days. There’s a vet in the next town over.”
“Oh. Right. That makes a lot of sense. I’ll do that, just as soon as I get my car sorted.”
“Yours is the Merc, yeah?”
He says this with a touch of an American accent, and I smile inside as I imagine him playingGrand Theft Autoor watching repeats ofStrike Back, all the while living in a speck-sized village on the far coast of England.
“It is. Next on my to-do list is to get it sorted, and then I’ll be on my way.”
He nods, and starts to walk away. Before he disappears around the corner, he pauses and adds: “It’s not so bad here, you know. Even if the wi-fi is non-existent.”
Crikey, I think – even the kids are in on it. He slouches away, and I keep an eye on the dog as I pull out my phone. He’s right – the reception is stronger here. I find the nearest Mercedes repair shop, and call them to explain my plight. They take the details and the reg number, and promise to be there as soon as they can.
After that task is complete, I wander down the wooden steps to the beach again. It is completely empty, and I take my trainers and socks off so I can stroll along the sand barefoot. It’s not too hot as yet, the sky clear, the view stretching out along cliffs of red and gold, the sea disappearing into infinity. Larry is chasing the waves as they retreat, yapping at them and running away when they come back. Simple pleasures. We should all be more Larry.
Inevitably, I arrive at the pale stone steps that lead up to the café. It was only yesterday that I landed here, tired and thirsty, and made my way up the very same path. Weirdly, it feels like I’ve been here for a lot longer. Maybe I can add ‘time-slip’ to my crazy theories.
Larry bounds ahead, obviously remembering it as a nice place full of good smells, and dashes straight through the now open door. If Larry is going to stick around, I probably need to get him a lead, I think.
I needn’t have worried – by the time I catch up, he is inside, saying hello to Connie, who is feeding him treats out of a big glass jar. I glance around and see a few other people with dogs in here – a giant Old English Sheepdog that looks like he’s stepped out of a Dulux ad, and a pair of matching French Bulldogs.
“Good morning!” Connie says, a huge smile on her face. She’s wearing cut-off jeans and a pastel-blue gingham shirt that could be fresh out of Dolly’s wardrobe. “How did you sleep, like a baby?”
I’ve never understood that phrase – in my experience babies don’t sleep very well at all.
“Great, thanks, Connie. I met your son this morning.”
“Oh. Which one? No, hang on, it’s got to be Dan – the other is away. I lose track sometimes.”
“Umm…yes, it was Dan.”
“Ah. Green hair, vape?” She shakes her head and adds: “He thinks we don’t know, like all teenagers. We were hoping he’d grow out of it, but there may be need for an intervention. Anyway. Can I get you something to eat? Just had a delivery of some fresh-baked pain au chocolat…”
As soon as she mentions it, my nostrils start to twitch, my mouth waters, and I realise I am ravenous. It’s all I can do to contain myself, and not leap over the counter like a ravaging baboon.
“That would be marvellous, thank you,” I reply, following her towards the source of the smell. Freshly baked pain au chocolat – possibly the peak of mankind’s achievements.
“So, Dan had a good idea,” I say, as I perch on a stool at the counter. “He suggested I take Larry – that’s what I’m calling him…”
“Larry the Lamb. Yes, I see it!”
“He said I should take him to the vet, get him scanned to see if he has a microchip?”
Connie pauses, hand on hip, looking thoughtful. “That is a good idea. Who’d have thunk it, my little rebel using his brain? I’ll call them now. You enjoy your breakfast. Coffee?”
