Pond People

Next morning, when the day lightened, Shadow was floating on her side at the top of the tank, gills pulsing desperately. Molly swam up to her, but all she could do was stroke the fish’s scales and try to comfort her.

When Mother came downstairs, she saw the black fish bobbing against the glass wall. Molly swam into the highest branches of weed as Mother scooped water from the tank, emptying several mugfuls into a basin. She fished out Shadow in the same way, pouring her too into the basin. Molly felt empty inside as Mother took Shadow away. She couldn’t even be with her, but perhaps the humans could help the fish.

Father said to hide the bowl under the sink before the children came down for breakfast. He didn’t want Bethany to see it before school.

When they had all left, Mother took the basin from the cupboard, and put it on the worktop, by the sink.

Molly watched all morning from the top of the weed, her hopes rising every time Mother checked the bowl. Flash and Eddy avoided her, but Amber came to watch with her for a while.

The last time Mother peered into the bowl, she prodded Shadow with a spoon handle before carrying the basin out of the kitchen.

Molly waited. The hollow feeling had turned into a dull ache around her middle

The children came home from school.

Father came home from work. Mother shook her head at him. Nothing was said.

Molly returned to the floor of the tank.

Bethany didn’t notice that Shadow was gone.

More weeks passed.

The mirlings recovered from the family’s holiday.

Each shelter among the plants began to reflect the character of its occupant, with emergency snacks, decorative bangles or belts, and amusingly shaped shards of gravel.

The children brought more friends to see the tank, and the mirlings learned humans weren’t all the same colour after all, although their range was limited. They brightened their unexciting browns and pinks and beiges with coverings of different colours which they changed often and were rarely seen without.

Father came home with more bags from the aquarium shop. One day he brought a piece of driftwood with a fernlike plant growing out of it which was soft to eat straight from the stem.

On another day he brought a plant with flat leaves which the fish kept dislodging when they rooted in the gravel. It grew just as well drifting on the water and made an excellent lookout point when the family were around.

Her gills ached when she remembered Shadow. No other fish could replace her. The fantails were cheerful, busy little bodies, bustling around the tank. They were always pleased to see her – they were pleased to see anyone. Molly had the impression they forgot about mirlings as soon as they swam up and lost sight of them.

The minnows swooped around the tank together, like those birds that flocked across the sky in swarms that Father had called starlings. Molly missed the birds.

She missed the sky.

Most of the time, the tank was well maintained, and the water rich with oxygen; although it began to stale if they were overdue for a vacuum and water-change. She’d become used to the hum of the pump vibrating in the background: a reassurance that all was well. Food was plentiful and, once the humans stopped staring at them, life was stress free. Nothing was expected of her.

There was no new-laid spawn to chase the fish from and no freshly hatched fry to shepherd into cover. Her parents weren’t forever nagging or hauling her off to visit relations.

She missed them.

She wondered if the Misfits were still reed-shooting. The team’s easy acceptance of her had fed her confidence, which wasn’t as strong as others supposed. People assumed she was capable of things that Molly herself wasn’t so sure about.

The Misfits had been fun, though. It had worked. She was grateful to Grandad for pushing her to do it.

Flo usually had people around her, but they found time to chat now Grandad was stronger. Nobody spoke again about leaving the tank and Sylva had relaxed, even telling Molly what a ‘triffic’ job she was doing. (What job?)

Lately, Sylva had sought out Molly, who found her hard to warm to. They had little in common and Molly wasn’t good at small talk. Sylva would babble on anyway, not noticing the lack of response.

Walt had reconciled to having his little sister around all the time, and Amber’s cheerful humming became a background to their daily activities, like the whirring of the pump.

Amber was a cheery soul even when she was ill, which was a lot of the time. Her happiest days were the ones when Molly saw Eddy beckon her away for a game of fish-chase as the morning lightened, before Walt or Sylva had time to tell her how ill she looked.

More time passed.

‘Why do all the shop signs say, “Back to School”? We’ve only just broken up.’

‘I picked up a couple more fantails while I was in the pet shop.’

‘Go check your bags, kids. Make sure you’ve got everything you need for school next week.’

‘The fish don’t seem very lively. Have you cleaned the gravel lately?’

‘Don’t go making plans to meet your school friends at half term. We’re going to visit Aunt Felicia.’

‘The fish look fine. A week without food hasn’t done them any harm. That auto-feeder was a waste of money.’

‘Not more fish, Henry! You went to the pet shop for Mojo’s flea shampoo.’

Each morning, the window lightened a little later and darkened earlier in the afternoon. In the hours between, the sky outside the window was mostly grey.

On days when the sun shone, it touched the window briefly before the house cast its shadow across the garden. It wasn’t long before frosted spiderwebs in the window corners and sparkling branches on a nearby tree heralded midwinter in the outside world. In the pond, they would be settling around the lower levels of the deep end, where the water never froze, for deep winter’s sleep.

Here, in the tank, a nearby radiator ensured that the temperature was always summer, whatever the window told them.

‘Happy New Year, everyone!’

Unfamiliar humans passed through the kitchen; some stopped to look at the fish. Molly hid.

Even Flash was nowhere visible.

At one point the guests crowded into the other room and began chanting. There was a cheer and loud bangs, followed by everyone singing and then more bangs.

After the bangs stopped, the children went to bed, and the adults carried on without them.

Molly enjoyed listening in to conversations. It annoyed her when people moved out of hearing halfway through.

‘You should try tropical fish, Abby. They’re more colourful. You’ve got everything you need here except a water heater.’

‘Please don’t suggest that to Henry. All this was because Beth won a goldfish at the fair and wouldn’t put it in the pond. Henry got all enthusiastic, reading up about aquariums and fish diseases, but I’ll give you three guesses who gets to pull out the dead ones and clean the tank.’

The women moved away laughing.

Molly couldn’t see what was funny about dead fish, but sometimes she wasn’t sure she’d understood properly.

On the day after all the people came, the kitchen lights went out and the bubbles stopped. Molly hardly noticed the constant whirr of the pump now, but she noticed when it fell silent.

Joel wailed a protest from the other room. ‘Mum, the TV’s gone off!’

‘Henry! Can you check the fuse box? Andre, look and see if the neighbours’ lights are out too.’

‘I think so, Mum. I can’t see any lights on anywhere. It must be a p-power cut.’

The children appeared in the kitchen. ‘We’re missing the film.’

The lights came on again, accompanied by beeps and pings from around the kitchen. The children were summoned by the sound of the television.

But Molly didn’t hear the whirring start up again. And the bubbles hadn’t come back.

Next morning, when Mother fed the fish, she didn’t notice the pump was still off. None of the family noticed.

They went out early to the sales and returned in darkness, carrying many bags. Mother took her bags upstairs. The children took theirs into the living room. Father joined them to watch television.

With a crowded tank and no pump to circulate the water, oxygen levels were low. Nobody was likely notice until Mother fed the fish again in the morning. Molly struggled to think.

This time they had to do something.