Pond People

Molly’s group had been lucky. The net was directly beneath them when she tightened an arm around Eddy.

‘Swim.’

She didn’t let go of him until she felt the net pull them out of the water. Then she’d looked around for Flo.

Flo wouldn’t lose sight of her brother, however exhausted she was. Still, Molly was relieved to see her friend drooping against the netting. She couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.

Father inverted the net over the bowl, and they dropped with the fish into the water below. Sylva hurried to Flo, broadcasting her relief at their arrival, but Walt only nodded. Molly went to him.

‘I’m so sorry, Walt, about Amber.’

‘Not your fault.’

But she felt responsible for these youngsters who had been trapped with them. Could she have done more? Flo had enough to do looking after Eddy and Grandad.

Looking up, Walt must have seen her distress. Without warning he hugged her, as if seeking consolation as much as offering it. ‘You did your best to keep us all safe.’

Molly grimaced at the memory. ‘I must have been a pain in the gills.’

‘Sometimes.’ Walt released her and put his hands on her shoulders instead. ‘You always seemed so… together. While most of us were falling apart.’

‘It was all a front.’ She shook her head. ‘What use was I? I could have spent more time with Amber. If she’d stayed on the gravel with us, she might have been stronger – less exhausted. Maybe, if I’d asked her to help me, made it seem like fun…’

His brows lifted. ‘That doesn’t sound like Amber. She’d prefer fish-chase.’ He almost smiled. ‘It doesn’t sound much like Molly either, come to that.’ He unexpectedly kissed her nose. ‘You did what you could.’

Gravel dropped into the water nearby, and three minnows swam down. Molly looked up, to catch Sylva watching them with narrowed eyes. Like the cat.

Mother’s voice came from above. ‘Don’t tip out any more gravel. It’ll weigh down the bag in the pond.’

Molly followed Flo’s gaze to the net above them, which was little more than a blur to her eyes. When the blur moved away Flo muffled a cry.

Eddy looked up from where he was resting on the bottom. ‘Is that all the fish?’

Molly didn’t answer, but their eyes met.

‘They didn’t make it then.’ Eddy hung his head. ‘Amber’s gone, and now Flash and Grandad.’

Flo knelt to take his hand, but the bag moved, tumbling them all at the bottom. Someone fastened it at the top and carried them through the kitchen to the back door. Molly couldn’t make out details outside the bag, but she recognised daylight when they reached it.

Real daylight. Not just the memory of it through a window.

The bag floated on the surface of the pond, drifting at the shallow end. Inquisitive fish came to nose it. Mirlings swam up to investigate. As soon as they were recognised, the waving and cheering began.

Someone must have told Molly’s family. They appeared, swimming around the bag until they found her and then waving and grinning like idiots. Her brother swam somersaults until Flo’s family arrived and things calmed a little. Eddy made an effort to smile and wave back so as not to worry his mother.

Sylva didn’t leave Walt’s side. Molly saw him with his hands against the plastic, shaking his head at his parents, smiling and crying at the same time.

It seemed ages before Father pulled the bag over to the side of the pond. Sylva reached for Walt’s hand and was still grasping it as they swam to freedom.

Unlike the fish, the mirlings knew what to expect when the bag was unfastened and were first to leave it, desperate to avoid being trapped inside after the fish had left. It would have been too cruel, having come this far, to be pulled from the pond in a collapsed bag and die in a rubbish bin.

Word had travelled around the pond. The reunions were draining.

Sylva told everyone – several times – how ‘triffic’ it was to be back, until Walt put a hand on her shoulder.

‘Give it a rest, Syl.’

And she answered, ‘Sorry, Walt.’

Her parents were looking old. On the way home she learned she was an aunt.

Her brother’s partner was waiting with their son to greet her. They’d moved in among the roots of the home plant and were helping with the spawn beds, now the fry had hatched,

Friends arrived to hear her story. The afternoon was turning into a pond-wide celebration. Someone told Molly that Amber’s parents were looking for her, and she slipped away.

She swam to the shallows under raindrops stippling the pond’s surface. The rain quickly grew heavier, churning the upper water as she swam. Thunder rumbled.

Her brother had clearly been proud of his family. She hadn’t expected him to embrace domesticity so quickly. Perhaps she would feel like that about someone one day and follow his example. She told herself that if she did, it would be because she wanted to, not because it was expected of her. She wasn’t sure she believed herself.

Had the tank changed her? She had yearned to be home, but now she was here she didn’t want to settle back into the old life. She had no idea what she wanted instead.

She felt untethered, adrift.

Surely, after facing genuine dangers and real tragedy, she had escaped the pond’s expectations and could stop worrying what people thought of her.

She should have taken more notice of Amber. She should have looked after her.

She didn’t dare imagine what Sylva was saying about her.