That's A Date

Stranger Than Fiction

Alex was enjoying the sunshine on her arms and legs, and the slight sea breeze. She stuck her finger between the pages of her book to keep the place while she breathed in deeply and felt herself relax. She didn't want lunch, despite it being almost lunchtime, after the generous breakfast at her B-and-B – she'd have to go for a smaller option tomorrow, a full fry-up would be too much each day. She shifted on her bench, swinging her legs up to cross her ankles along the wooden slats of the seat, and wedged her backpack and jumper under her shoulders to lean back against the arm behind her. She immediately regretted it, because the wrought ironwork was cool and hard on her neck, even through the jumper, but she only had – she flicked ahead quickly – half a dozen more pages to go to the end of the chapter, and she thought it was bearable for the amount of time it would take her. 

If the dull prose didn't get her first. She was by now vaguely invested in the characters, though, and this was an important turning-point in the heroine's life.

Two or three pages further in, she was distracted by a large collie, who had appeared at her elbow and was snuffling its nose at the pocket of her shorts. "Hello, you. All I've got in there is a packet of mints, and I bet I'd be in trouble if you had one." Alex greeted the not-entirely-unwelcome distraction with a quick scratch behind the ears. "You're a handsome thing, though, aren't you?" The collie gave her a glance out of its big eyes as if to agree, and pushed its nose further between her elbow and her hip, jogging the book. Alex lost her place in the novel and let it fall onto the bench, swinging herself back round to sit properly, feet apart, and fuss the dog. It promptly sat down between her knees and let her fondle its head and ears – to their mutual satisfaction, it seemed.

"Checkers, you absolute tart, stop bothering strangers," said a voice to Alex's left. "I'm so sorry," the voice continued as Alex looked up to see a tall woman in a denim jacket over a retro-chic, knee-length print dress, and – incongruously – dirty trainers, crest the path up from the bottom of the promenade gardens. The woman approached the bench.

Alex waved a hand. "It's no problem. If this your dog, you're very lucky." She admired the attractive stranger for a heartbeat too long, then collected herself and moved one hand down to stroke the collie's back, while turning her other to rub her fingers quickly under its chin. The dog half-lifted a paw and rested its head against Alex's knee in appreciation.

The woman stood with her hand on her hip. "Don't give him ideas. He's big-headed enough as he is." She waved the lead in her hand at the bench. "Looks like we're joining you for a bit. Do you mind?"

"Er, no. Not at all." Alex watched the woman surreptitiously as she sat down, while pretending to focus on the dog. She was maybe thirty or so, with wind-tousled, curly brown hair, and a confident, self-assured bearing. She had a nice voice, too, with the rounded vowels and tone of either an expensive education or professional training; either way, Alex approved of its sexiness and wanted to hear more. She let her hair fall across her cheek to hide her sideways glances as the woman crossed her long legs and adjusted the folds of her dress.

"What did you call him? Checkers?"

The woman pulled her hair over one shoulder then leant back and rested her elbows on the back of the bench. Alex felt the woman's eyes on her for a moment, and when she looked over properly, the woman grinned. "Afraid so. Checkers, Checky, Checkibobs. Checkster, sometimes." Her grin widened as Alex chuckled. "He's Checkmate, really, because he's pretty evenly black and white. Not my choice." She watched Alex fussing the dog, and through her hair Alex watched her watching.

When Alex brushed her hair back behind her ear and shot the woman a sideways glance and smile, the woman looked up from looking at the dog between Alex's legs. She wound the lead up and put it in her jacket pocket. "Not my dog either, actually. He's my neighbour's, who's a chess fan, obviously. But the old boy can't go far these days and this charmer still likes a bit of a run sometimes." She leant in and rubbed the dog's head, the sleeve of her jacket and her wrist slightly brushing Alex's bare leg. "Don't you, eh?" The dog licked the woman's hand quickly, then suddenly flopped down to lie down across Alex's feet. The woman withdrew her hand, resting it very lightly on Alex's knee for a second while she pointed one long finger at the dog. "Ah, sorry. Looks like you're stuck talking to me for a while."