Finding The Right Path

First impressions are misleading in this moving short story by Elizabeth Meyer.

A peaceful woodland walk was the perfect way to get away from it all . . .

sunlight streaming down between the trees.

She put her hand up to shade her eyes.

He was a tall man, wearing combat trousers. He had dark hair and even darker eyebrows. The man scowled at her.

“What do you mean, I’m trespassing? It’s a public footpath.” Josie bristled.

“You’re wrong. It’s an estate footpath. You came through a gate to get here, didn’t you?

“Did it have a waymark sign? I don’t think so.

“Members of the public are meant to keep to the waymarked footpaths.

“And I’ll thank you to keep your dog under better control.”

“My dog is perfectly under control, thank you. It was your dog who charged at us.

“And for your information, I’m not a member of the public.

“I live here, so I think that gives me as much right to walk in these woods as you.”

Josie whistled for Pickle. Unfortunately, the dogs were getting on far better than their owners, and she totally ignored Josie.

Josie was forced to climb to the top of the hill, right up to where the man stood, to grab her dog’s collar.

She clipped Pickle’s lead on and dragged her back down the hill, fuming.

How rude! What had bitten him? Josie hoped that their paths wouldn’t cross again any time soon.

****

“This is Nick, he’s our other assistant curator. The two of you will be working quite closely together.”

Lynn, her new boss, led Josie into an office.

The dark-haired man was sitting at the desk, poring over documents.

He looked up and glared at her, then went back to his work.

Charming, Josie thought. Well, he’ll find that I can be just as rude as him. I have no need to be friendly.

She glared back at him, though it went unnoticed as he’d turned his back.

“You mustn’t mind Nick,”

Lynn said softly as she showed Josie where everything was.

“He’s been through a lot and has a prickly shell.”

Josie decided she would just pretend he didn’t exist.

She began to take the first steps in acquainting herself with the project she was to be working on.

This house hadn’t been open to the public for long, and there were still masses of unread, uncatalogued documents to sift through.

Old household bills and accounting books, photographs, diaries and letters had all been left untouched for years.

One of her jobs was to find stories of the past residents to display for the public. Josie loved delving into lives from the past, and knew she was going to love this job.

Since the tragedy of Eleanor’s death I wish to see no-one, she read, as she skimmed through a letter written by Edward Holborne, the last owner of the estate, in 1934.

My dog is the only company I wish to keep, so I will not be accepting your invitation.

Josie’s skin prickled as she read more letters and documents relating to Edward Holborne.

The more she read, the more real his voice sounded.

After returning from fighting in World War I, he had enjoyed a period of happiness after the birth of his daughter.

However, he was to lose both wife and daughter in the space of a few years.

Josie’s heart ached for him as she read of his distress.

Edward Holborne had become a recluse for the rest of his life, living on his own in just two rooms and communicating only by letter – even with staff.

Josie knew the desire to shut yourself away from other people. She had been feeling the same.

But to do it for ever? “Would you like to come for a drink after work?” Lynn asked her, towards the end of the day.

Josie caught herself just before she said no, mindful that her reclusive behaviour might not be such a good thing.

She didn’t want to become like Edward Holborne.

“Thanks, that would be nice,” she replied.

She was glad that she had accepted the offer.

Lynn turned out to be good company.

“Give Nick a chance,” she said, when Josie told her of their first unfortunate meeting. “He’s got a kind heart under that tough exterior.”

But the next week, she found no more reason to like him.

They were together in a meeting to discuss what they had been working on.

Nick was highly critical of her presentation on Edward Holborne.

“There’s not enough there for a display story,” he argued.

Josie stomped home angrily. She felt close to Edward Holborne, but she had to concede that there was something missing from the story.

Something was needed to bring the man to life.

Trust Nick to highlight the fact, though. He seemed to dislike her intensely, for some reason.

Once or twice she’d bumped into him in the woods, where she’d made a point of walking just to show him that he didn’t own the place.

Today, as she made her way down a muddy slope, Dexter, Nick’s Labrador, charged towards her.

Embarrassingly, he and Pickle adored each other.

Josie knew Pickle was still missing Rocco, her other Dalmatian.

Matt had insisted that Rocco stayed with him when they split up.

The dogs belonged to both of them, and everything had been divided.

Josie’s heart had broken anew, but there had been nothing she could do about it.

Watching Pickle playing with Dexter reminded Josie of how she used to play with Rocco, and she blinked back tears.

“Come on, Pickle.”

She clipped on Pickle’s lead to pull her away.

She didn’t want to bump into Nick and deal with his grouchiness while she was feeling so sore.

Pickle pulled back on her lead, wanting to carry on with her game with Dexter, who was following them.

“Pickle!” Josie tugged in

One of her jobs was to find stories of the past

exasperation, but as she did so she tripped on a tree root which had wound across the path.

Josie fell sideways and hot pain immediately seared through her ankle.

“Ow! Oh, now look what you’ve done!” Josie yelped.

Pickle and Dexter danced around her as she groaned and tried to get up.

Her ankle immediately gave way and she sat down with a thud, tears streaking her face.

It was a chilly evening and she felt a couple of big blobs of rain spatter down on to her. The branches overhead swayed in the wind.

Sitting there, helpless, it was as though all the anguish of the last few months was crowding in on her, and she let the tears come.

She had tried not to allow herself to cry. She’d hardened herself and got on with sorting out her life.

Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. It was strangely relieving to sit there, earth beneath her, leaves above, and let it all out.

The dogs sniffed at her and milled around, unsure what to do.

“Dexter!” It was Nick.

Oh, no! She didn’t want to see him.

“Go, Dexter.”

Josie gave him a push, but he remained next to her, ears pricked

up in the direction of his owner.

She hastily wiped her face with her hand as Nick came crashing down the path towards them.

“Dexter – oh. It’s you.” Nick gazed down at Josie. “What are you doing down there?”

“Resting,” she replied sarcastically.

“Why have you got mud all over your face, then?”

Josie brushed her face with her hand again, and realised her hands were all muddy from the fall.

“Are you OK?” Nick asked.

“I don’t think I can get up,” she admitted.

He kneeled down beside her and touched her ankle. She winced.

“See if you can get up with me supporting you,” he told her.

She hopped up with his help.

“Can you put any weight on it?”

She tried gingerly.

“Come on, then, let’s get you home. You’ll have to put your arm round my shoulder.”

He placed a hand firmly around her waist, almost lifting her off her feet, and she leaned into him.

They hobbled down the hill. Josie was very aware of the warmth of his body next to hers and the feeling of his hand very tight around her waist.

“I think you need to get to A and E for someone to have a look at that,” Nick told her when they got back to her house.

“No!” she protested.

But he was insistent, feeding and settling the dogs together in her kitchen before fetching his car and driving her

20 miles to the hospital.

He stayed with her while she waited to be X-rayed, to then be told that nothing was broken, before driving her home again.

“Will you be OK?” he asked as he helped her on to the sofa and put a cushion under her ankle.

Josie found herself reaching for his hand to stop him moving away.

“Thank you for all your help,” she said sincerely.

He looked embarrassed. “That’s fine. I’m sorry if I haven’t been exactly welcoming towards you,” he said. “I guess I’ve just got out of the habit – become a recluse like your Edward Holborne.”

He sighed and Josie sensed him going back into himself. He seemed lost in a deep sadness.

She didn’t ask why. The barriers between them had gone back up.

****

Nick remained gruff but kind over the next few weeks. He called round every day to walk Pickle while Josie’s ankle recovered.

Josie discovered that his curt exterior was just that. Underneath was a kindhearted man.

But sadness hung around him. Josie decided to ask Lynn what had happened.

“He lost his wife. It’s been five years now. Car accident. He was driving.

“He’s never forgiven himself, although it wasn’t his fault.”

****

Josie had discovered some old gramophone recordings amongst the contents she was sifting through at work.

Put together with the bills, letters and scribbled music scores of Edward Holborne’s that she was finding, she realised they were recordings of his compositions.

She longed to hear them, but didn’t own a record player.

“There’s an old gramophone down in the drawing-room,” Lynn told her. “Try it out.”

The recording was of piano music. The few visitors who were around that afternoon stopped to listen.

The record was scratched but the music haunting.

“That’s the saddest music I’ve ever heard,” a woman said, wiping her eyes.

Josie thought that all Edward Holborne’s sadness must have been poured into his music. It was the missing piece of her exhibition.

Before she could find

Nick to see what he thought, a sports car drew up outside her cottage.

She couldn’t believe her eyes when she realised that her other Dalmatian,

Rocco, was sitting in the passenger seat with the seatbelt on.

Matt jumped out of the car, followed by Rocco, who leaped up to give her a slobbery kiss and then charged off to greet Pickle.

“You were right, I haven’t got the time for him.” Matt was slightly shamefaced. “And he doesn’t fit into my new car.”

Josie realised how wrong Matt had always been for her.

A man who chose a sports car over a dog would never have suited her.

With this came relief. She could let Matt go.

Watching the dogs’ delighted reunion, she felt so happy she hugged him.

“Thank you, Matt,” she said. “Have a good life.”

She stepped back and turned to see Nick, his hand on the garden gate.

Josie opened her mouth to call him but he left quickly.

She waved goodbye to Matt and decided to go and find Nick.

It was silly. She felt as though she had cheated on him, but it wasn’t as though they’d even been going out.

She couldn’t deny the attraction she felt towards him any longer, though.

And the look she’d just seen on his face, as he’d watched her with Matt, made her wonder if he felt the same way.

Nick lived in the gatehouse, built into the tower on one side.

Stonework arched elegantly over the entrance to the driveway and the big house.

As Josie walked down the avenue of gnarled beech trees, the dogs running behind her, she could hear saxophone music.

She stopped to listen to the melancholy piece.

Nick was unaware of her. He played as if pouring his soul into the music.

The hairs rose on the back of Josie’s neck.

“Edward,” she said softly. And then, louder, “Nick?” He turned.

“You’re back with him, then,” he stated.

“No!” Josie exclaimed. “Matt was just bringing Rocco to me. I’m so happy to have him back.

“But you’re so sad, and I really like you,” she said in a rush. “I don’t want you to stay like Edward Holborne all your life.

She held out her hand. “Come and hear this.” He followed her, bemused, as she ran towards the big house.

“Listen to this,” she commanded once they were in the drawing-room, putting on Edward Holborne’s record.

Nick sank on to the sofa as the melancholy tones of Edward’s music surrounded them.

When it ended, both had tears in their eyes.

“It’s so similar to how you were playing,” Josie breathed. “Edward remained all alone for the rest of his life because he decided not to let anyone else get close to him.

“I don’t want that to happen to you, or me.”

Josie turned to Nick and held out her hands.

“We can’t be recluses for ever.”

Nick took her hands and held them.

“You’re right. I knew that when I saw you with Matt, and thought you were back with him. I realised how much I like you, too. And look at the dogs!”

Without their owners noticing, all three dogs had followed them.

Dexter and Rocco had been busy making friends. The three of them were now in a big rough and tumble together on the rug.

“Dogs can teach us so much about moving on.” Nick observed.

“Come on, let’s get them out of here before Lynn finds them!”

He held Josie’s hand as they walked out.

“Let’s take them for a walk in our woods. You’re very welcome there, you know.”

The End.