Fiction

Susan loves the life she shares with Mark in their seaside abode – but something’s missing

‘ WE RE AL LY should get married, you know.”

She looked at Mark, half hidden beh in d his newspaper. Susan knew he must have reached the finance pages. It was the only time he mentioned marriage, when he was thinking of their bank balance.

They’d been together so long everyone assumed they were already married. They owned a cottage by the sea and for the past eight years had been joint owners of Basher the dog. As Susan padded to the kitchen to make tea, Basher followed her, hoping for a treat. He got one, of course. Susan always spoiled him and he really loved his treats. Basher knew better than to follow his other owner anywhere. There were never any treats from Mark.

“You spoil that dog,” said Mark when he came into the kitchen to find Basher licking his lips.

“Anything interesting in your paper there?” Susan asked.

“Tax breaks, Susan. We could save a fortune if we got married. Wouldn’t have to be a big do, to keep the expense down.”

But Susan wanted a big do; she wanted the fuss. She also wanted a romantic proposal but she knew Mark, and romance had never been his strong point. She loved Mark dearly. She just wished he’d declare his love for her instead of declaring the tax advantages. But whenever Mark broached the subject of marriage he always talked about benefits and tax. It wasn’t exactly what Susan wanted to hear. She wanted a bouquet, not a balance sheet.

AFTER tea Susan took Basher to the beach. They lived just a short walk from the shore and it was Susan’s favourite walk. Basher enjoyed it too, chasing birds he’d never catch and running into the shallows as waves broke onto the sand. The sun was shining from a clear blue sky and the low tide meant that a huge expanse of beach was available for him to run on. Susan looked ahead of her to see where the dog had gone. She wasn’t too concerned when she couldn’t see him at first. He often ran off but he always, without fail, came back. But this time there was no sign of him.

“Basher!” she shouted. “Here, boy! Basher!”

She was always slightly embarrassed calling out their dog’s name. When they’d picked him from the shelter as a puppy, he was the most clumsy little animal and

kept bumping and bashing into furniture and their legs.

“He’d fall over fresh air, that one,” Susan’s mom said when they first brought the puppy home. And because he was as clumsy as he was cute, the name Basher fit him perfectly. But where on earth had he gone? She yelled again, and that’s when she saw him. He was running towards her at full tilt and it was clear he’d been for a swim. His coat was glistening, heavy with seawater, and if dogs could smile Susan would’ve sworn Basher had a huge grin. He reached her but didn’t stop running. Instead, he ran around twice before running back to the water, bounding into the waves.

AS SUSAN and Basher headed home after an hour on the sands, Susan tried to form her thoughts into words as she walked. She had something to tell Mark, something she’d found out earlier that day. She wasn’t quite sure how Mark was going to take the news she was about to break – and she wanted to make sure that when she told him, the words came out just right.

“Pregnant?” Mark laughed. “Are you sure?” Susan nodded. “I mean . . . at your age?” Susan’s eyes widened. “Sorry, I meant at our age,” he hastened. She nodded again. Mark stared at her, gobsmacked. Susan could almost see the thoughts whirring behind his eyes.

“But we haven’t got the money to . . .” he started to say. “We haven’t planned . . . I mean, how will we afford–”

“Oh, here we go,” said Susan “It all comes down to money, doesn’t it? Everything with you, Mark; it’s all about money! Here I am telling you the most wonderful news, our news, and all you can think about is finance!”

She was hoping for a hug, a kiss, but there was nothing. Mark just sat stock still, trying to take in the news.

Susan woke at sunrise the next day in the same unsettled, bad mood that she’d gone to sleep in. Without waking Mark, she climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes. Downstairs she put on the old anorak she kept for dog-walking and pushed her legs into wellies.

“Come on, boy.” She kissed Basher on the top of his fluffy head as she fastened the lead to his collar. “Let’s go to the beach.”

THE tide was high and the sea was stormy. It fitted her mood perfectly, the constant churning of the waves, the roaring of the sea. Lost in her thoughts about Mark and the baby, still feeling upset and unsure, Susan walked all the way to the end of the bay. When she reached the end and could walk no further, she turned to retrace her steps back along the beach. The tide was on its way out now and the sea seemed calmer, softer, less angry and white.

“Basher!” she yelled when she realised the dog was nowhere to be seen. “Here, boy! Basher!” How long had she been walking along the beach without him? She’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she’d left Basher to his own devices. She finally spotted him, a long way ahead of her, digging a hole in the sand. His two front paws were going like mechanical diggers, spraying sand up behind him.

“What’s that you’ve found, Basher? What’s in there?” Susan crouched down on her heels to have a good look. At Susan’s voice, Basher stopped digging and ran around her in circles. Whatever was under the sand excited him. It wasn’t a deep hole because the sand collapsed in on itself as quickly as Basher had been digging it out. But something caught Susan’s eye. She gently nudged Basher out of the way so she could put her hands into the hole.

“What’s this, Basher?” she said. The dog sat obediently by Susan’s side, panting from exertion.

Susan pulled out a small brown paper bag. It looked exactly like the sort of bags she had at home in the kitchen. It had the same brand name on it too. Inside the bag were what looked like dog biscuits. Exactly the same sort of biscuits she treated Basher with at home.

“Someone must have dropped them,” Susan thought. She put her hands back under the cold, damp sand and wiggled her fingers. Her fingernails immediately hit something hard and she pulled out a stone, a flat oval stone. It was beautiful, grey with flecks of black, washed smooth by the sea. It fit into her hand perfectly. “Turn it over,” a voice said. Susan looked up. She’d been concentrating so hard on what she was doing she hadn’t realised Mark had walked down to the beach. He crouched next to her, stroking Basher on the head.

Confused, Susan lifted the stone with her free hand and turned it over in her palm. There, on the underside of the stone, written in thick black ink on the surface of the stone: Will you marry me?

She looked at Mark. “How on earth did you . . .?”

Mark shook his head. “No questions, not yet. Just an answer, please?”

“But how did you know Basher would sniff out the biscuits and start digging at this exact spot?” she asked him.

“I followed you after you left the house earlier,” Mark said sheepishly. “I knew you’d come back the same way you walked out. You always do. And Basher’s not daft. He goes mad for those treats; he’d be able to sniff them out a mile away.” Susan raised her eyebrows at Mark. “Okay,” he shrugged. “I left as little to chance as possible. Do you know what the odds are on Basher finding one of these? I’ll dig up the rest of dog treats later and bring them home.”

Susan smiled. It was typical of Mark to think about odds and chances, to hedge his bets. But still, the proposal in the sand was the most romantic thing he’d ever done.

“Look Susan, I want . . . I need to apologise for yesterday. I do want to marry you. I’ve been saying it for long enough.”

“I know you’ve been saying it,” Susan said, caressing the stone. “But this is the first time you’ve asked.” “And is there a reply?” Mark said. Susan ruffled Basher’s furry head. “Come on, boy,” she said and she ran along the beach with Basher bounding along. Mark was left standing alone.

A long piece of driftwood washed up on the sand proved perfect for Susan’s needs. With the wood, she etched her reply into the damp sand. She stood with Basher sitting at her side and smiled as Mark walked towards them. When he reached Susan they embraced for what seemed like forever. They hugged for so long that Basher lay down in boredom at their feet and gave a big sigh.