Pond People

As the morning dragged on, Flash returned to his lookout post in the drifting plant. Molly swam up to join him.

‘How’s the repair going?’

He shrugged. ‘Father’s muttering a lot if that’s any clue. The children are keeping out of his way.’

She was about to leave again when Father put down his screwdriver.

‘It’s no good. We need a new pump.’

Mother said, ‘When you go to get it, can you pick up a bottle of milk at the corner shop?’

Father stared at the bits of pump on the table.

‘Did you want another coffee?’

‘Uh – no. Thanks. Where’s Bethany?’

‘She’s in the garden with Mojo,’ his wife said.

Father got up and Molly heard him call from the back door. ‘Beth, can you come here a minute?’

On the table he showed her the wreckage that used to be the pump.

‘Honey, this pump is broken, and the fish are going to die while we’re away on holiday. The only way we can save them is by putting them in the pond.’

‘Can’t you buy a new pump?’

‘There won’t be time to… um… order it and fit it in the aquarium.’

‘Oh.’

‘The fish would so enjoy being back with their friends in the pond.’

Molly wanted to point out that both pond fish were dead but, however fiercely she thought it, no human showed signs of hearing her.

‘They’d have all that space to swim in the pond.’

‘OK.’

‘And you’d be able to see them anytime in the garden.’

‘OK.’

Mother said, ‘We’ll do it now then, shall we?’

‘OK.’ Beth skipped back out to the garden.

‘Before she changes her mind,’ said Mother.

‘Too late now if she does. I’ve decided!’

Flash turned to Molly, and she read in his eyes the same hope that was growing in her.

They swam down to share it with the others, but their news came too late for Amber.

Sylva’s cries reached them first, followed by Walt telling her there was no point wailing because Amber couldn’t hear her. His tone was mild, but she recoiled as if slapped.

Now that the worst had happened, Walter was calm and winter-cool.

Flo comforted Eddy, while Grandad led Walt away from Amber’s lifeless body. Nobody thought Molly wanted comforting.

She kept telling herself they might be going home. After all this time, a chance to return to the pond.

She couldn’t yet believe that Amber wasn’t coming with them.

When Flash told them the fish were to be released into the pond, Walt broke down in silent tears. Sylva hurried to comfort him, and they drifted away to the side of the tank, followed by fish attracted to their trail of tears.

Molly’s thoughts skittered around her head. ‘Will they just pour the fish in?’ Please let them just pour the fish in. ‘Or will they net them first?’

Grandad shook his head. ‘The tank’s too heavy for them to carry. We’ll have to stay close to the fish.’

Flash pointed to the kitchen table, where the small fishing net lay in wait next to plastic bags and a large bowl. At the same time, the lid of the tank lifted, and two hands descended to the bottom of the tank, holding open a plastic bag.

Water poured into the bag, carrying with it two fantails, Walt and Sylva.

Father said. ‘That’s two we won’t need to chase around the tank.’

He stood the bag in the bowl on the table, folding its top over the rim to stop it collapsing.

Mother said, ‘They’d be easier to catch without the plants in there.’

She pulled the waterweed from the tank and Flo tensed.

‘We came in on a p-plant.’ She wiped her eyes with the wrist that wasn’t across Eddy’s shoulders.

‘They might not put it in the pond though,’ Molly reasoned. ‘The plants are too small for humans to see them in the pond.’

‘She’s right.’ Grandad struggled to his feet. ‘The plants’d be lost in the pond. If the family gives the tank away, they’ll likely give away the plants with it.’

Now Mother was removing the bridge and the big stones. The stones might be returned to the waterfall…

But how long would they be out of water? Molly tried to focus her thoughts.

‘We need to be ready when the net comes. Flash, if you swim up with Grandad, I’ll help Flo with Eddy.’

Flash stiffened, but after a moment, he nodded.

Satisfied, Mother stood by the kitchen table.

‘OK. Ready for more fish,’ and the net appeared above the tank.

Fantails were easy to catch. Father had netted three in one swoop before the mirlings swam high enough to catch the net. But now Flash realised that Grandad, and probably Eddy, were too weak to hang on to the net once it left the water.

‘Wait at the surface, ready to drop inside when the net’s underneath you.’

The net plunged again, facing away from the mirlings. It trapped the remaining fantails against the side of the tank and slid up the glass as it rose. The fantails left the tank with some minnows, while Flash and Molly were still towing their charges the length of the tank.

‘What now? Which side?’

Molly’s panic didn’t give Flash the satisfaction he might have expected. Watching Goldie still circling, he shared his thinking.

‘This fairground fish won’t be so easy to catch. She’s faster than the fantails so she’ll be harder to trap and the net will have to move around. Stay where you are and be ready to drop into it.’ Flo looked as if she couldn’t move far anyway. ‘As soon as it’s underneath you, dive.’

He linked arms with Grandad and pulled him farther along the side of the tank, so they wouldn’t bump into each other.

Goldie flicked her tail angrily as the net hovered overhead.

He could grab the net from the outside, but would he be able to hold on to Grandad with only one free arm? And would Grandad’s frail arm support the weight of his body out of water, swinging through the air?

While he considered his options, the net plunged again.

This time Father had one fish to target. It was probably luck that he correctly judged Goldie’s response and collected her in a single swoop. Molly’s group were in the right place. Pushing out from the side, they were caught up when the net rose and gone before Flash and Grandad reached them.

Three minnows still hovered over the gravel.

Minnows prefer to swim together, so they were likely to be caught together. This would be Flash’s last chance to escape the tank.

Mother looked in from above. Her voice echoed around the glass walls.

‘Let’s take out more water. They’ll have less space to escape to.’

The jug was overhead.

‘Dive, Grandad! Don’t get washed into the jug. They won’t empty that in the pond.’

He grabbed Grandad and hurtled to the gravel, where they skulked in a corner with the minnows as the water’s surface came closer.

‘Don’t worry … about me, lad … you go for it. … I can look out … for myself.’

Grandad had hardly been able to pull himself upright this morning but, although gasping, he was regaining his colour. ‘I’ve been in … tight spots … before.’

It was tempting to accept Grandad’s suggestion. Individually their chances of catching the net might be better.

His certainly would.

The net was back, dragging across the gravel to drive the minnows into a corner. As it approached, Flash grabbed Grandad’s hand and pulled them both into it.

The net closed in on the minnows, dredging up gravel which covered the mirlings as the net rose from the tank.

Out of water, the gravel weighed more heavily on them. Flash fought himself free. Beneath him, Flo looked up from the depths of the bowl as the fish jostled above her.

Grandad was still under the gravel.

Flash kept hold of the netting as Father shook the minnows out. Some gravel fell with them, and there was Grandad, struggling to free a foot tangled in the net.

‘Don’t tip out any more gravel,’ said Mother. ‘It’ll weigh down the bag in the pond.’

Grandad waved him away. ‘Go, lad. Jump!’

Mother said, ‘Leave the net in the tank.’

Flash began to clamber up the netting towards Grandad.

Once under water, back in the tank, it was easy to release Grandad’s foot now there was no reason to hurry.