A Quick Decision

So there we were, trapped by an old lady and her monster dog that lay in wait somewhere in the building, watching for us to leave our room. Himself is not usually the most patient of men yet he seemed prepared to wait and who was I to argue.

I joined him at the window and we both stood looking down in to the garden, hoping to spot the dog so we could make a run for it. "Look at that," I said pointing to a very large pile of silage towering above the garden fence. "Bet that's not good for trade in the summer."

"There's a lot of things here that won't be good for trade" he replied and turned to walk to the door.

"She told us to wait," I pleaded. "I'm not leaving this room until she comes back." Hoping to keep him in the room I launched in to a series of pitiful comments about the room. "The en-suite is just a cupboard, someone's just put a frame around an old loo and sink.... Look at those sheets, I don't think they've been changed since the last occupant." Himself wasn't listening.

"This is ridiculous, I'm not wasting my time with this I've seen enough," he said.

A Frightening Experience

Having been refused a piggy-back to the front door I let Himself find the least wet pathway and tiptoed through the water in his footsteps. An elderly lady greeted us at the door with apologises for this Somerset deluge. Before the conversation got much further the sound of a deep dog bark echoed through the pub. As we introduced ourselves the barking grew more frantic.

Now I like dogs and I have 3 of my own, but this deep throated barking sounded - ominous. We could hear a crashing sound as somewhere in the building this creature tried to reach us. The lady was unperturbed and calmly introduced herself as the owner of the pub. Her small slim frame went some way to sooth my dog nerves as we started our tour of her establishment.

The ground floor of the pub was a wide open, light space. A pleasing blend of modern and traditional with flagstone floors, pine tables and metal chairs and an open fireplace at one end of the room. The slightly scruffy bar told a different story with its heavy scratches and unpolished look. Moving through the room the landlady suggested we now look upstairs. This seemed an unusual move as so far all we had seen was the main bar area.

I could see the stairs in a corner of the room and as she led is in their direction the barking stopped. A small passage to the right led to a full-sized glass door and as we approached the stairs dining tables were clearly visible through the door. And that was not all.

The second we drew level with the door a huge black beast leapt at the glass with a force that stopped Himself in mid step. The door held and the hand that had covered my mouth now grabbed his jacket. It was a rottweiler. We froze yet the little old lady continued walking up the stairs oblivious to our terror and mindlessly we followed.

The upstairs area had a feel of neglect. Grubby paint work, dull and dusty looking, the landing made the idea of sleeping here, uninviting. She opened a door and waved us in to a room she described as a double en-suite letting bedroom. I would have described it as an over sized box room. The 12 by 12 room was dilapidated with peeling wallpaper, dirty fingerprints on the walls and stained and yellowing paintwork that told of past smokers.

The landlady politely requested that we take our time and look around - and would we please remain in the room whilst she moved the dog!