Local Hero

LOCAL HERO

Who would have guessed that Ben had heroic potential? We've been together seven years and I certainly had no idea. Well, it's not something that you'd normally think about is it?
My name is Ellen and I'm an editor at a large publisher. The events I'm about to relate to you occurred on a warm, spring day, the kind that makes you glad to be alive. You know the type; all brightness and breezes. The sun shining in the morning puts a spring into your step and everything is good. Maybe that's why they call it spring!
Ben had already got up and was wandering around the house looking forward to getting out. We were going to see my sister, Beth, as we do every Saturday morning.
With the sun up and my mood up with it, I was soon showered and eating breakfast. Ben happily tucked into his food as usual, occasionally looking up at me, his dark eyes sparkling. I could hear the sound of the bell ringing above the door in the neighbouring Post Office as customers came and went. It was a faint tinkle; the sound of angels getting their wings according to the film It's A Wonderful Life.
The kitchen window was open and the birds were singing their little hearts out in the back garden, which was vibrant and filled with soft fragrances. The scents coming in on the breeze were pure aromatherapy.
The breakfast things were washed up. Then, wearing blue jeans and a burgundy T-shirt, dark hair tied back, I was ready to go. Ben was eager for us to get on our way.
'Don't worry, we're going now.' I smiled at him.
As we stepped outside there was a tinkle from next door and the gentle sound seemed to trigger my memory. Standing on the front step, I remembered the bottle of wine chilling in the fridge that I'd bought as a present for Beth.
Ben was heading towards the car as I stood in the doorway and looked at him, then back along the hall to the kitchen.
'I've got the keys so I'd better open the car for him first,' I thought and walked along the paved path to our gravel driveway.
I unlocked the car and Ben got in, making himself comfortable in the passenger seat, ready to get under way. The window was wound down and he watched with an expression of mild surprise and confusion as I went back to the house after shutting the car door, always the chauffeur.
'Don't worry gorgeous, I'm just going to get the wine. Back in a moment,' I explained before entering the house.
If my sister didn't like wine¦ If Ben didn't like to come along when I visited her¦ Well, there are countless ifs, but going over them can never change what happened next.
I came back out of the house with the chilled bottle in my left hand. As I walked over to the car the bell above the Post Office door rang once again.
The security alarm began to sound as I shut the car door and put the key in the ignition, the loud noise making me jump, heart missing a beat.
Suddenly a man leapt into the back seat behind me and told me not to scream, 'or else¦' I could feel him pressing something cold and metallic against the back of my neck and feared the worst. My pulse raced as panic began to rise within me. How was I supposed to now that it was only an electric razor and not a gun?
That's when Ben came to my rescue and attacked the robber. The pair struggled to overpower each other as I tried to gather my thoughts.
I scrambled out of the car, having the presence of mind to grab the keys as I did so, along with the wine. The central locking clicked shut and the indicators flashed as the alarm and immobiliser were set.
The car was rocking slightly as Ben and the robber continued to tussle. The man was looking extremely troubled and frustrated. After more battling on the back seat he managed to free himself from Ban's grasp long enough to unlock the car door and make a bid for freedom.
My reaction was automatic. I hit him over the head with the bottle of Australian white and he fell to his knees on the gravel, dazed and confused. I hadn't struck him particularly hard and the bottle was still intact. In fact, when Ben and I finally arrived at Beth's the wine was used to toast our success in foiling the robber's getaway.
The police weren't long in arriving, sirens sounding and lights flashing. The robber was put in cuffs, though he had to be helped to his feet, legs still weak after being hit over the head. Then he was put in the back of a police car along with a small backpack, which contained the money he'd tried to steal. The dangerous situation was over.
Quite an audience had gathered by that point. The neighbours were out in force. All the customers who had been in the Post Office were bunched on the pavement, along with the shops owners, Mr and Mrs Lightfoot. Pete, the paperboy, looked on with wide eyes at this rare piece of village excitement.
In the aftermath of the attempted robbery everyone congratulated Ben on his bravery in helping to apprehend the criminal. He enjoyed being the centre of attention and was in his element amidst the throng of people. The Lightfoots were extremely grateful for what he had done and I was also praised for my quick thinking. There was a general feeling of relief after the brief period of tension.
So now Ben's a hero to some, but he's still the same old loveable scruff-bag to me, even after the publication of the newspaper article about the escapade. It's framed on the sitting room wall and I especially like the photo. There's me standing with the car behind and Ben cuddled in my arms. The line beneath the picture reads; 'Ellen Dews with her dog, Ben, who helped thwart an attempted Post Office raid.'