The Stories of Jane Gardam by Jane Gardam

Author:Jane Gardam [Gardam, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Humour, Psychology, Short Stories (Single Author)
ISBN: 9781609452100
Google: R7XfAgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07PN7DSNP
Publisher: Europa
Published: 2014-06-02T23:00:00+00:00

The exams came and went as exams do and Pratt felt lightheaded and light-hearted. He came out of the last one with Jackson and said, ‘Whee—let’s go and look at the river.’

‘I feel great. Do you?’ he said.

Jackson said he felt terrible. He’d failed everything. He’d spent too much time spring-cleaning old Nellie. He knew he had.

‘I expect I’ve failed, too,’ said Pratt, but he felt he hadn’t. The exams had been easy. He felt very comfortable and pleased with himself and watched the oily river sidle by, this way and that way, slopping up against the arches of the bridge, splashy from the barges. ‘What shall we do?’ he asked Jackson. ‘Shall we go on the river?’

‘I’d better go over and see if old Nellie’s in,’ said Jackson. ‘I promised. Sorry. You go.’

Pratt stood for a while and the old lady with the shopping-trolley went by. ‘Lolling about,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry about your flour,’ said Pratt. Filled with happiness because the exams were over he felt he ought to be nice to the woman.

But she hurried on. Pratt watched her crossing the bridge and found his feet following. He made for Candlelight Mansions.

‘Does Henry want to come to the park?’ he asked a little girl who peered through the diamonds. Her face was like a white violet and her fringe was flimsy as a paint-brush. There was a kerfuffle behind her and Mrs. Wu came forward to usher him inside.

If I go in it’ll be quails’ eggs and hours of bowing, thought Pratt. ‘I’ll wait here,’ he said firmly. Mrs. Wu disappeared and after a time Henry was produced, again muffled to the nose in the scarlet padding.

‘It’s pretty warm out,’ said Pratt, but Mrs. Wu only nodded and smiled.

In the park Pratt felt lost without a book and Henry marched wordlessly, as far ahead as possible. The ice-cream kiosk was open now and people were sitting on the metal chairs. Pigeons clustered round them in flustery clouds.

‘Horrible,’ said Pratt, catching up with Henry. ‘Rats with wings. I’ll get you a Coke but we’ll drink it over there by the grass—hey! Where you going?’

Henry, not stopping for the pigeons, was away to the slope of green grass that led down to the water. On the grass and all over the water was a multitude of birds and all the ducks of the park, diving-ducks and pelicans and geese and dab-chicks and water-hens and mallards. Old ducks remembering and new little ducks being shown the summer for the first time. Some of the new ducks were so new they were still covered with fluff—white fluff, fawn fluff, yellow fluff and even black fluff, like decorations on a hat. The proud parent ducks had large V’s of water rippling out behind them and small V’s rippled behind all the following babies. Henry Wu stood still.

Then round the island on the lake there came a huge, drifting meringue.

It was followed by another, but this one had a long neck sweeping up from

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