Excitedly, he jumped down, thirstily drank his way through his bowl of water and leapt across the room and up onto the window ledge via the sofa. He levered up the window casement bar with ease from its receptacle and turned his attention to the brass side handle, just within his reach. Soon he had loosened the latch and the window swung open, assisted by a gentle nudge with his head. He crept out onto the wide ledge outside and pulled the window shut with his furry front paws, giving it a firm push with his bum to make sure it stayed closed. It was a fairly tight fit so it was quite secure once shut. He didn’t want Mia to be burgled because he’d left the window open.
He jumped down into the garden and over to the gate, peering around the corner before diving out and speeding along the lanes towards the Fox pub. He rushed along ‘Yew Tree Close’, and then onto ‘Cuckoo Lane’, not a soul in sight. A little further on and he was in the village centre with its post office, police station and corner shop all collected around a small central war memorial and flower bed.
Stealthily, he ducked and dived behind bushes, between parked cars and onto the main road which led to the Fox pub and M3. He sped down into a small ditch which ran parallel to the road, and continued at full pace, reaching the Fox pub some fifteen minutes later. Outside, two elderly, plump men came out dressed in tatty farmer’s attire, getting into a rusting Ford transit van before speeding off. Ed continued on his way, unconcerned whether they saw him or not. He was feeling nimble and fast enough to get away from anyone and anything.
The grass-covered ditch carried on for another half mile or so before petering out and up into flat land beside the road. Ed ducked in behind the hedgerow and sped further towards his destination, undeterred by the odd cars that zapped by on the quiet route. Soon he reached the M3 and followed it along, weaving through the matrix pattern of fields he’d marvelled at from the skies not so long ago. In no time at all, he was darting across the small airfield and towards the off-road trials bike course he recalled was next to the diner. It was deserted, its muddy, ragged, trail criss-crossing its way back and forth across the small piece of land, no bigger than a football pitch. He ran impatiently along its straights and around its bends with excitement as he came to realise he’d nearly reached his destination. Continuing with determination he proceeded and forced his way through a bush at the edge of the course and into the grounds of the diner.
He snuck across the car park, up a small grass embankment and took refuge behind a small concrete post. He wasn’t sure what the exact time was but by the look of the sun’s position in the sky, it was nearing late afternoon. Nervously, he peered around from the hiding place hoping to see Ed’s silver Volvo estate appear on the slip road. Each new vehicle noise marked another chord of disappointment in the dog as they passed by the diner and drove out onto the dual carriageway. He waited anxiously, his ears shooting bolt upright every time anything moved or made the slightest noise. He could see the lights in the diner and the steam coming from the kitchen vent. The bright yellow waitress fizzled past the window every now and then, carrying oversized cups of tea and bacon rolls to lonely customers.
Ed looked on nervously until the sound of an engine drew closer and closer. It was a silver Volvo estate, just like Ed’s. It stopped along from the diner on the slip road just past the petrol station. The engine revved as the driver looked at the big sign:
‘FULL ENGLISH BREAKFAST - £2.99’
Next, the silver car reversed backwards, causing a minivan coming past to swerve, resulting in a meaningless exchange of horn abuse. Then the car steered over to the left and into the diner car park, pulling up just along from where the small furry dog was hiding. Excitedly, he leapt out from his position under the adjacent van and over towards the door of the diner where he peered out from behind another of the big breakfast signs. He watched in complete disbelief as he saw the car door fling open, revealing Ed’s feet, then legs, body and head. He was shocked to be staring at himself. Of everything that had happened so far, this was by far the most extraordinary to come to terms with. Two Ed Trews.
He pulled a jacket from the car, put his iPhone into his shirt pocket, slammed the door shut and headed over to the restaurant. Ed could smell him even from that distance, the familiar aftershave, the slight underarm development from a day in the car. It was all so instantly recognisable and comfortable. He got closer and closer, brushed past the sign and pulled open the heavily sprung glass door, walking in to let it slowly close behind him. Sneakily, the dog popped in through the diminishing gap and dived behind the paper stand. Ed turned around as if he had seen him, went over to the stand and grabbed one of the free papers before turning around and heading over to the table with the ripped seat.