Jennifer Joyce - The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea

The clifftop was covered in a carpet of grass, thistles and wild flowers, with a path worn through to the cliff’s edge. As predicted, the view from was amazing as she looked down onto the beach and the sea, with its frothy waves lolling towards the sand. The stretch of sand wasn’t as busy now, but there were still plenty of families making the most of the good weather. She couldn’t see the donkeys from earlier, but took a few shots of the beach, capturing the pier in the distance, before turning her attention to the town, snapping the rooftops, clusters of trees and cobbled streets. Once she felt she’d caught the essence of Clifton-on-Sea on a sunny late afternoon, she wandered to a bench set a safe distance from the cliff’s edge and flicked through the photos, deleting any obvious duds before moving on to the next. There were some pretty decent shots already, but Melody knew she’d have to return to the clifftop to see the view at nighttime or before dawn. A shot at sunrise would be incredible and might be just the moment she was hoping to catch.

She’d scrolled back through her photos of Fleetwood a few days earlier, scrutinising the shots as best she could on the small screen of her camera, when a dog’s bark made her look up. The clifftop had been deserted since her arrival but it seemed she now had company.

The bark came again before a small body bounded into view, the small golden ball of fluff hurtling towards her. It barked when it saw her – twice, in quick succession – and picked up speed until it stopped suddenly, plonking itself at her feet and giving a quieter woof of greeting.

‘Hello again.’ Melody reached down to stroke the dog on the head, giggling as he twisted his head so he could lick her hand. She recognised the dog from outside the fish and chip shop earlier, though he’d swapped his red tartan bandana for a bright yellow one. ‘Aren’t you a friendly chap?’

‘He loves the ladies, the old charmer,’ a voice said and, when Melody looked up, she groaned inwardly. It was the bloke from the ice-cream van. The bloke she’d spoken to briefly outside the fish and chip shop. The one who’d caught her talking to a dog. His dog, it transpired, judging by the lead dangling from his fingers. His dirty blond hair had been tied back earlier, but now the longish curls were free and dancing around in the breeze.

‘Don’t fall for it, though. He looks all adorable and sweet now, but wait until you find him with your favourite, expensive trainers in his gob.’ He gave the dog a reproachful look before sitting down on the opposite end of the bench to Melody. ‘Taking photos again? How do you want me?’ He flicked one long leg up onto the bench and leaned back, pouting at her and, though she tried hard not to, Melody heard a giggle escape.

‘You’re not quite what I’m looking for,’ she said.

‘No?’ He righted himself and leaned down to scratch the dog’s ear. ‘What are you looking for?’

‘Just this.’ She swept a hand out to indicate the view. ‘The town. The seaside. The Britishness, I guess.’

‘Got anything good?’ he asked, nodding towards the camera, and she shrugged. ‘Can I see?’

Melody switched the camera off and pulled it closer towards her body. ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’

He gave a lazy, one-shouldered shrug and leaned back against the bench. ‘Fair enough.’

‘It’s just…’ She frowned, wondering why she was explaining herself to this stranger who was managing to get on her nerves despite doing very little to justify it. ‘I don’t really show my photos to people.’

‘Blimey, what kind of photos do you have on there?’ He grinned at her, still lounging against the back of the bench. ‘Now I’m even more intrigued.’

‘Get stuffed.’

‘Hey, I was only kidding,’ he said as Melody rose from the bench. ‘Don’t go. I’ll shut up, I promise. I won’t say another word.’ He mimed zipping his lips and Melody was annoyed further as she felt her lips pull up into a hint of a smile.

‘Sorry, I’m not usually this touchy. It’s just…’ Melody lowered herself back onto the bench, her fingers fiddling with the camera as she tried to find the right words to excuse her grouchiness. ‘My photos are sort of private. Not in that way. I just find it difficult to show people. It’s daft, I know, and I’m working on it, but…’ She shrugged. ‘It isn’t easy.’

She dragged her gaze from her camera to look at her bench companion, but while he was watching her intently, he was true to his word and didn’t open his mouth.

‘Your dog’s very cute,’ she said, blatantly changing the subject. She reached down to stroke him again and he sneaked another doggy kiss onto her hand. ‘What’s his name?’ She scratched behind his ear, but looked up when she received no reply. Her companion raised an eyebrow at her and pointed at his closed mouth.

Crossing her arms, Melody sighed. ‘Are you telling me your lips are still zipped?’ He nodded and Melody rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. You can unzip them now.’

Giving a closed-mouth smile, he reached for the corner of his mouth with a pinched-together thumb and index finger, but instead of sliding the fingers across his mouth, he gave a couple of short tugs before widening his eyes at Melody. He gave a few more tugs before he gave up and threw his hands up into the air.

‘The zip’s stuck, isn’t it?’ Melody asked, suppressing a sigh. He nodded before pointing first at Melody’s hand and then at his mouth. ‘You want me to help?’ He nodded again and so, giving another eye-roll, Melody reached towards the guy’s mouth, feeling like the biggest fool as she made a pincer movement with her finger and thumb. Grabbing her hand, he helped ‘tug’ the zip back across his mouth.

‘Thank you,’ he gasped, slumping against the bench.

‘You’re an idiot,’ Melody said, but she was smiling.

‘You’re not the first to make that observation,’ he said with a grin. ‘Luckily, I’m also thick-skinned.’ He reached down to give the dog some fuss. ‘His name’s Scoop Dog, in case you’re still wondering.’

The giggle erupted without warning and Melody pushed a hand to her mouth to muffle it. ‘Scoop Dog?’

‘Scoop to his friends. He seems to like you, so Scoop it is.’

‘Scoop as in ice-cream scoop?’ Melody asked.

‘We’ve found ourselves a clever one here, boy,’ he told the dog, giving his head a good scratch.

‘Hey.’ Melody folded her arms across her chest. ‘I could always zip you back up, you know.’

‘Sorry.’ He picked the dog up and sat him on his lap, giving his head another scratch. ‘Let’s start again. Meet Scoop, the bravest dog in Clifton-on-Sea, perhaps even the world.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Scoop.’ Melody gave the dog a stroke and received a lick in return. ‘What makes him so brave, other than being seen out in public with a madman?’

‘I’ll ignore that last comment,’ Scoop’s owner said. ‘And launch straight into the story of how Hugo – that’s me – met Scoop Dog.’

Scoop, Melody learned, was a rescue dog who’d been found cowering in a bush, bloody and collarless, five months ago. He’d been savaged so badly by another dog – perhaps more than one – the vet wasn’t sure the poor fella would make it. But after lots and lots of TLC – plus surgery and numerous stitches – Scoop had surprised the vet by making a full recovery.

‘He has a bit of scarring,’ Hugo said, lifting Scoop to show his underside. ‘And his fur is only just starting to grow back on his neck.’ He popped the dog back down and lifted the yellow bandana to show the patchy fur underneath. ‘But other than that, he’s on top physical form.’

‘So how did you come to own him?’ Melody asked.