The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper(40)

He had a flashback to when Lucy and Dan were young. They were on holiday and Miriam stood at an ice cream van buying cones. The children were playing tag, slapping each other on the arm or back and then pelting away. Lucy ran with her hand outstretched to whack Dan on the leg but he swerved out of the way. He moved backward in small jumps, each time jerking out of the way of Lucy’s swipes. Farther and farther until he was at the edge of the pavement, then in the road. Lucy continued toward him, focused, oblivious to anything but her annoying brother and trying to tag him. A car drove past, then another, perilously close. An articulated lorry began to rumble toward them. Arthur stood rooted, unable to move as the events unfolded so quickly. He was twenty-five feet away. He shouted for Miriam but she didn’t hear. She licked raspberry sauce from around the rim of a cone. Arthur found an inner strength, almost a superpower that he hadn’t thought possible. Without knowing how he got there, he found himself yanking on Dan’s and Lucy’s arms, tugging them from danger. Superman. Dan glared, indignant. Lucy gave her brother a triumphant slap as Arthur all but threw the two of them back onto the pavement. A tear ran down his cheek. Unaware, Miriam bustled up and offered them each an ice cream. Only he knew what dreadful thing could have happened.

Tapping into that experience now he pushed his way out into the sunlight. Blinking against the brightness of the sun, he stumbled forward. The white light faded so he could make out a red double-decker bus, trees and a crocodile of schoolchildren wearing yellow high-vis jackets. “Stop, thief,” he cried out again.

The man was making good ground now; his strides were long. The space between them widened. Still Arthur ran. His heart and feet pounded. Uneven flags, upturned chip shop trays, empty crisp packets, feet, passed by. Then a pain hit him in his chest. Oh, God, no. He stumbled and came to a standstill. His heart felt as if someone was grasping it in their fist. Miriam’s voice was in his head. “Just let him go. It’s not worth it.” He knew when he was done. He tried to think what was in his wallet—his Visa card, ten-or twenty-pound notes, photos. He was lucky he hadn’t been stabbed.

As he stood panting, another young man loped toward him. He was dressed similarly to the thief in baggy jeans. He wore a green hooded top with a hole in the shoulder. His nose was freckled and his hair was the color of rusty nails. “Has he stolen something from you?”

Arthur nodded. “My wallet.”

“Right. Stay here.” The second man pressed a loop of material into Arthur’s hand and then was gone. Looking down he found that he was holding a frayed pink strip of material, used as a makeshift leash and tied in a loose bow around a dog’s neck.

The dog was small and dithery. It had black wiry fur and stared up at him with bemused orange eyes. “I don’t think your master is going to be long,” Arthur said. “Don’t worry.” He reached down and scratched the dog’s head. It wasn’t wearing a proper collar and didn’t have a name tag. There was a tweed cap on the ground beside them, which the man must have tossed down there.

Arthur and the dog stood in the sunlight. There was nothing else to do. There was a jangle of money as a lady wearing a woolen purple cape gave the dog’s head a ruffle and then threw a handful of change into the cap. Oh, dear, she thought he was a beggar. Now he thought about it, he supposed he did have a look of a down-and-out about him. He hadn’t shaved for two days and his blue trousers were a bit grubby.

“Is this your job, then?” he said to the dog. “Do you sit here and wait for people to pay you?” The dog blinked.

Arthur now longed to sit down. What on earth have you done to me? his body said.

Another ten minutes passed. He began to formulate plans in his head for if the man didn’t return. He would have to take the dog to the nearest police station and drop it off. He couldn’t take it on the train back home. Were dogs even allowed on the tube?

Finally the man reappeared. He held out Arthur’s wallet. Arthur stared at it in disbelief. “You got it back?”

“Uh-huh.” The man was out of breath. He bent over and rested his hands on his knees. “I’ve seen that bastard thieving here before. He picks on helpless old people or foreigners. Scum of the earth. I managed to catch up with him. I stuck my leg out and he flew right over it.” He gave himself a congratulatory chuckle. “That taught him a lesson. Next time, keep a firm grip of your wallet.”

Arthur’s immediate reaction was to insist that he was neither old nor helpless, but that wasn’t true. “I will do,” he said meekly. “I feel rather foolish.” He felt his knees buckle. The need to sit down overwhelmed him.

The young man picked up his hat, then shot his arm out. He wrapped it around Arthur’s back to steady him. “There’s a bench over here. Come on.”

Arthur let the man guide him. He sank down on the bench. The dog pushed its way between his legs and sat on the pavement, resting its head against his leg.

“Ah, look at that. She likes you. That’s pretty rare. She’s usually a timid beast, scared of her own tail.”

“She’s lovely.”

Bernadette had tried a few times to persuade him to get a dog, telling him that it would give him purpose to his life. But he had resisted. It was hard enough to look after himself, let alone something with four legs. In the past few years Miriam had mentioned getting a pet; he had said, “It will just outlive us.” So they hadn’t bothered.