Martha My Dear

Chapter 1

"Oh I'll tell you on the walk there, we're running late." She informed me getting up and walking out of my room to the front door.

"Alright." I sighed tiredly following her out of my small flat.

"He works with Benjamin as an accountant, he's twenty seven, he has brown hair and blue eyes," Audrey began her list as we walked to the elevator.

"-he works five days a week, he has a wet mop of a personality, he's a virgin," I cut in knowing his type all to well, making Audrey hit my arm.

"He's a good guy Charlie." She huffed.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry." I shook my head smiling slightly to myself.

"You're twenty three now, not five years old, I need you to act like an adult today Charlie, for me." Audrey pleaded.

"I can be an adult." I spoke defensively.

We got off of the elevator and onto the street beginning to walk to the country club.

We walked about three blocks before something had suddenly made the day a hell of a lot more interesting.

A loud screech of a car made the both of us snap our attention over to the road suddenly in shock.

A big old English sheep dog had almost just been ran over by a car in the middle of the street. I gasped and walked to the edge of the sidewalk looking both ways before running over to the dog.

"What are you doing?" Audrey yelled to me.

I ignored her and grabbed the dog by the collar, bringing it to the other side of the road onto the sidewalk, apologizing to the driver that was stopped cursing at the dog and I.

It was a pretty obedient dog to my surprise and it followed me without resistance, I wondered to myself how it could've even escaped in the first place, it was just so calm and gentle.

I squatted down to see if the dog had a home address or a phone number on the collar.

"Martha." I smiled to myself as I read the name engraved into the metal.

She perked up and stuck out her tongue, almost seeming to be smiling. I smiled back at her joyfully with a laugh.

"You're a very pretty girl, aren't you Martha?" I giggled scratching behind her ear before receiving a big slobbery kiss on the cheek.

I rubbed it off and laughed as I pet her.

"7 Cavendish Avenue, St. John's Wood." I grinned reading the rest of the tag triumphantly.

"I don't think that's too far from here Martha, we can get you home in no time." I smiled at the contented dog in front of me.

"Charlie what are you doing? We've got to go." Audrey nagged as she caught up to me.

"We can't just leave her here." I spoke worriedly getting up and turning to Audrey.

Audrey looked down to the dog beside me and contemplated for a moment.

"Whatever, fine." She groaned with a frown.

"Look, if it makes it any better you can go meet with the two of them and explain to them why I'm late and I'll be there as soon as I can." I smiled hoping it would lighten her mood.

"Alright," She nodded.

"But you better hurry, I really don't want to upset anyone." She pushed a stray piece of her blonde hair behind her ear.

"I'll be less than twenty minutes, Cavendish Avenue is only about three blocks from here." I grinned.

We split paths and Martha walked beside me willingly without even having to be held onto. I think she liked me, because she seemed to still have her tongue flopping around merrily as she walked closely beside me.

"I don't know how someone even lost you." I spoke giggling while Martha looked up to me with her mouth open as she panted.

We continued to walk for awhile until I found the correct street go turn on to.

"Now, lets look for your home Martha."  I grinned as we finally walked on to Cavendish Avenue.

She barked at me playfully, almost seeming to have understood what I had said to her.

She began to pick up speed down the sidewalk and I followed her curious of her pace, keeping an eye on the house numbers around us.

Martha stopped before an all brown gate surrounded by a tall brick wall and began to bark and scratch at the door.

7 Cavendish Avenue.

I saw the number on the gate and rubbed my forehead, how was I supposed to get Martha through the gate? I wasn't even sure why I had such strong feeling about bringing her home in the beginning.

"Martha?" I heard a thick Liverpudlian accent yell from the other side of the gate as a door creaked open.

Martha began to wag her tail and barked furiously at the sound of her owners voice.

I fixed my hair quickly and dusted off my dress that I still dreaded.

The gate opened and revealed the face that I had already known from radio and television.

Paul McCartney?