Free Four Ducks on a Pond by Annabel Carothers Page A

tapping out the rhythm with their feet. The tea emerged from the
side room, with a tray of cups and a huge teapot, and milk and sugar. And others followed, carrying trays piled high with sandwiches and cakes. What a feast! Soon everyone had eaten all they
wanted, and even I had not been neglected, as Fionna, who was helping to hand things round, had given me a delicious helping of salmon out of a sandwich.
    When all the dishes had been cleared away, the family said ‘Good night’ and slipped off home, as was the custom. But I stayed on, right up to the end, and I stood up like everyone
else, when Jimmy played ‘God Save the Queen’.
    It’s surprising how quickly everyone disappeared for home. Archie and his lorry provided transport for all the Community from Iona, and cars gave people lifts to their various homes. So
soon I was alone on the road, feeling a very small cat, and I had to walk carefully, as it must have rained heavily at some time during the evening. The moonlight shimmered on the loch, and now the
moon was here, now gone, and black clouds were scudding across its face. A rat ran across my path, but I ignored it. I was glad to see the huge white gate of home gleaming, and I slipped under it,
up the drive, to my bed in the electric-lighting plant house.
    The house was warm, and the engine creaked from time to time, as it always did when it was cooling down after being used. The family only switched it on now for special occasions, as it burnt
petrol, which is so much more expensive than the paraffin needed by lamps.
    I curled up on the old red hospital blanket, specially there for me, and soon I was fast asleep and I didn’t know anything more until Carla bounced in on me to call me in the morning.

C HAPTER N INE
    It isn’t often that Margie’s summer holiday coincides with Fionna’s birthday, but it did this time, which was a lucky thing, as Fionna loves to have all the
family together when one of them is having a birthday so that none of them misses the fun. So as she watched Kitten making the birthday cake, which was a layer cake in three different colours,
since that is her favourite kind, she chatted about John, and how especially much she would miss him at her birthday tea, and how she would like to send him some of the cake when it was iced. But
Kitten explained that this sort of cake became stale very quickly.

    Grandpop with Arnish and Flora outside the engine house
    So they decided that next year, if John was still away, they’d make a rich fruit cake instead, which would travel better. So that was settled.
    Fionna’s birthday presents were always placed in the very same Moses basket that had been her first cradle when she was born. And when she woke up, she would carry the basket to Kitten and
Grandpop’s room, where the family would sing ‘Happy Birthday’ before watching her open her presents. And I must tell you that Fionna was just as excited over other people’s
birthdays as she was over her own, and when it was she singing ‘Happy Birthday’ instead of being sung to, she put so much spirit in it that would ensure the lucky person being happy for
days and days.
    The birthday cake looked just lovely, with its candles lighted (Puddy had drawn the curtain to make the dining-room dark), and there were meringues and all Fionna’s other favourite things
for tea. And the family sang ‘Happy Birthday’ all over again, although her birthday only had a few hours left by now. And soon, almost too soon after tea, there was the birthday dinner,
with one of the brown Rhode Island hens that hadn’t laid for ages made into a casserole, as she was too tough to roast.
    And that night John telephoned from Stirling Castle and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ twice through in spite of the pips. So Fionna felt almost as if he had been with her after all. And she
thought it the nicest birthday she had ever had. A thought, I may say, she somehow seems to have every year.
    Before Margie