On the third attempt Giles got the key in the lock, and went in remembering just in time not to let the door slam. He shrugged off his jacket, had a brief struggle with the laces of his shoes before kicking them off and began to slowly creep up the stairs. The quietness of his entrance was then ruined by Wilf, who ran out from the kitchen and gave his master an ecstatic welcome whilst making a tremendous amount of noise.
‘Wilf, mate. You’re alright, but I wish we’d got a smaller dog.’
Early on in their relationship, Buffy had suggested that they get Alice a pet to help her to feel more at home in Giles’ house. They’d been living together for two weeks and whilst Alice seemed to be happy, having spent virtually her entire life globe trotting she didn’t seem to quite understand that she was here to stay.
‘Surely this is just shameless emotional manipulation?’ he’d said.
‘Which when you’re four, works wonderfully.’ Buffy replied.
Giles had come home from work a few evenings later to find Buffy and Alice in the kitchen cooing over a cardboard box. Alice in her excitement had run to him and for the first time taken his hand, dragging him over to see what the box contained.
‘Look! Look! It’s Wilf.’
‘What’s a Wilf?’ he asked her.
‘He’s sleeping.’
Giles peered into the box and saw a dark grey puppy, weeks old, half covered by a piece of blanket, sound asleep, totally oblivious to the sensation he was causing.
‘Did you choose that name, Alice?’ she nodded shyly. ‘Because it’s really…erm..suitable.’
He was in fact on the point of being extremely sarcastic about the new addition to the household’s name but on seeing how important it was to Alice, held his tongue.
‘And what kind of dog is Wilf?’
‘He’s an Irish Wolfhound,’ Alice stated proudly though she had no idea what kind of dog that was. Wilf was hers, that was all that mattered.
Giles knew it was too late to protest, they had agreed to let Alice choose what pet she wanted but he’d been thinking along the lines of a hamster or a rabbit, something small and containable, not a breed of dog that when fully grown would easily be able to stretch up and place its front paws on his shoulders.
They’d told Alice that because Wilf was new and didn’t know very much she’d have to help him settle in. Despite Giles’ earlier misgivings it had worked perfectly, Alice thrived under the responsibility of looking after Wilf, very carefully explaining everything to him making it all the more real to her. He adored his small mistress, following her everywhere gazing up at her at during their very solemn and rather one-sided conversations.
Wilf also helped Alice to learn to trust Giles, as every morning they’d take him for a walk together. She had been very confident around Giles when they’d first met as she was used to meeting new people, however she was totally unused to them then becoming a daily presence in her life. Sometimes she’d ask him a lot of questions, spurred on by the fact he never brushed them aside or ignored her but always gave proper answers, other times she’d be more shy talking only to Wilf, but she soon got used to the tall quiet man who made Mommy so happy and the four of them became a family.
Now Giles gave Wilf a final pat, and seeing as the dog had no doubt woken everyone, went up the rest of the stairs without bothering to be stealthy. He saw Alice cross the landing and go into the bathroom she may have been disturbed by the noise or perhaps not as she was definitely sleeping less or more lightly these days. He looked into her room, and saw that the four soldier bears that used to be placed on each corner of her bed but had long been relegated to a shelf were once again standing guard on her duvet, meaning she was upset. Giles went back out onto the landing, sitting on an antique chair Buffy had placed in an alcove as a feature and waited for her return. He wasn’t sure if Alice was going to notice him, she looked barely half awake and the landing light was dim but at the last moment she swerved, climbed onto his lap, placed her head against his chest and with one hand began gently twisting the buttons on his shirt.
‘You smell like cigarettes,’ she informed him sleepily.
‘There’s a good reason for that, but don’t tell your Mum.’
‘You’re talking funny. Did you drink beer?’
Giles’ accent was far less precise than usual, a sure sign that he’d had a lot to drink, and one that Alice was clearly attuned to. At first she’d always thought he spoke oddly, but now Alice had spent three years in London and several terms at an exclusive private school and it was Buffy’s accent, not Giles’ that stood out as different in their house.
‘Yes, lots of beer and some rather indifferent scotch as well.’
‘Mummy came back without you.’
There was a lengthy pause.
‘Did you fight?’ Alice sounded suddenly very alert.
‘No, we didn’t fight. But your Mum got bored so she came home.’
Alice seemed satisfied with his explanation.
‘But you weren’t bored?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Did you talk shop all night?’
Giles smiled, she’d obviously got that phrase from Buffy.
‘For a greater part of the evening, yes.’
‘But you weren’t bored because you’re so clever.’ Alice stated.
‘Exactly - ever so clever.’
Alice took great pride in the fact Giles had such a well respected job. He had no idea where she got it from, perhaps school or her friends parents, but she knew that being a curator at the British Museum was unusual and impressive. Just as she knew that possessing a doctorate indicated a high level of academic achievement. Modest by nature, Giles was touched by her faith and pride in him.
‘Come on. Back to bed.’
He stood up with Alice in his arms, went to her room, placed her gently in her bed and then pulled the duvet up around her.
‘Goodnight, Alice,’ he whispered turning out the bedside light.
He wasn’t going to get away that easily. Their short conversation had fully woken her up.
‘Tell me a story,’ she begged. ‘Please.’
He grabbed the chair from her desk, sweeping aside the jumble of stuffed toys that she’d left on it, got comfortable, thought for a moment and then began. Confident that if he pitched his voice correctly she’d be asleep in minutes.
‘This is a true story, that took place seven, very nearly eight years ago in Los Angeles and it is about the first time you and I met.’
He knew she wasn’t really listening but decided to share one of his favourite memories with her anyway.
After a short while, when he was satisfied that Alice had gone back to sleep he crept from her room across to the larger one that he shared with Buffy. He got undressed, slipping into bed initially thinking he’d managed not to disturb her.
‘I can’t believe how late you are.’
‘Sorry, luv. Didn’t mean to wake you up.’
‘Now I can’t get back to sleep, what can I do?’ Buffy asked him playfully.
‘Well, I just told Alice a story. I suppose I could tell you one or do you have any other plans?’ he enquired in mock serious tones.
Buffy tilted her head, whispering in his ear exactly what her plan was and with a wicked laugh began to put it into effect.
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