The stairlift

“Do you believe in mermaids?” asked Don.

I was too surprised at the question to say anything at first. Don’s eyes had a dreamy look as he went on without waiting for an answer.

“I live with one! Of course you’re probably thinking of sailor’s myths about the dugong, but I can assure you she’s nothing like that!”

Don was an old friend of mine who had done very well for himself in business. Every Wednesday I would go round to his house and we’d chat about every subject under the sun. But ‘mermaids’ was a new one.

For some reason my friend appeared to have lost his marbles, however he hadn’t drunk too much sherry yet and his voice was steady. On the other hand his statement made me think. A large house built near the coast in Devon, a fantastically large secluded swimming pool surrounded by trees and a business fortune made selling fish. It all seemed to add up.

“I first met her one day when I was out at sea skippering the fishing boat,” Don continued, “We’d shot our nets five miles offshore and were hauling in what appeared to be a very large catch; so when the commotion began at the stern I gave orders to stop the haul in case we lost the net and ran back to see for myself what was going on.

The net had just started to emerge from the water and the crew had spotted something unusual as it was just breaking the surface. When I arrived they just pointed and in front of me was the most unusual sight a fisherman would ever see. It was a calm day with only a moderate swell and we appeared to have a dolphin sized fish in the net with yellow hair! At first I thought it was a real dolphin trapped in some decaying sea weed, but then it tried to jump out of the net and I could see what had caused the commotion for myself.

We had definitely caught a mermaid. The upper half was legendary just like the old sailor’s stories. She was very naked and very female and trying to disentangle herself from the mesh of our net. As she struggled to free herself the tail came out of the water momentarily, showing that she was also very dolphin-like in that area.

There was only one thing to do in my mind, so we launched the life boat and went round to her. I tried to calm her by waving gently as we approached and then leaned over personally to free her from the net. I offered my hand and managed to pull her free after ten minutes work. She looked me straight in the eyes and smiled a thank you before swimming back under water. I told the crew they’d better not to say anything ashore in case we were all thought to be mad.

A week later we went back to the same spot and after half an hour or so things started to happen and our catch was phenomenal. Apart from the size of the haul the quality of the fish was first class. By daylight we had filled our tanks and pulled the nets for the last time. For the first time in my career we’d filled the boat with top quality fish and done it in a record time. As we turned to leave I leaned out of the wheelhouse window and looked astern. A figure with yellow hair was waving from the water, so naturally I waved back.

This went on for several weeks every time I went out with the boat. The mermaid was becoming friendlier as time went on and she’d approach the boat and make crooning noises when she saw me. Then one day after some thought I decided to see if she would come aboard. I had devised a sling where hopefully she could lie or sit as convenient to her; lowered it into the water and beckoned.

She smiled happily as she examined the sling then holding onto the vertical loops sat in it and came aboard for the first time. Of course the crew crowded round and stared. But she didn’t seem to mind and after a minute or two began making sounds. I realised that naturally enough she didn’t understand how to speak above water and very slowly and deliberately said “Good morning” to her.

Her mouth opened and closed once or twice as she experimented with the sounds and then quite recognisably said “G’d moring.” I went through the standard pantomime of indicating myself saying ‘Don’ then pointed to her and she caught on remarkably quickly. She made a sound that I interpreted as “Shla” and she nodded enthusiastically as I spoke her name for the first time.

The large catches of prime fish continued for months and I expanded my business. Soon I was able to afford this large property on the coast in Devon. As the friendship developed her language became increasingly understandable and soon she was explaining how grateful she was that I had saved her from drowning in my net and hoped that the quality and number of fish I was catching with her help was sufficient as a ‘thank you’.

I assured her that this was so and asked if there was any thing I could do in return for her kindness.

“I’ve often wondered”, she replied “how the land people are able to live in all the dryness and heat that we find if we try to come ashore ourselves.”

“You can come ashore with me and have a holiday in my swimming pool if you’d like,” I said. Of course I had to explain the concept of ‘Holiday’ and she laughed out loud at the thought of building a special pool to swim in when the ocean was so nearby.

So now she lives with me, she spends a lot of her time bathing so I’ve had to put in a stair lift for her to get up to the second floor. She does quite well in a wheel chair when she’s down here. I’ve also made a rather expensive modification to the swimming pool by having a large diameter pipe laid connecting the pool to the sea. There’s an underwater door so that she can get in and out when she wants without letting the pool drain. Of course the pool is now full of salt water, and she catches fish for herself to stock the pool so that she can eat when she’s hungry. All in all it’s a very satisfactory arrangement.

Don stopped for a moment and looked at me. “I’m going on a bit really aren’t I”, he said, “would you like to meet her?”

I nodded dumbly, surely he couldn’t be serious yet it all fitted together very neatly.

“Sheila” he shouted and I heard a mumbled reply from upstairs, “a friend of mine would like to meet you.”

A couple of minutes later I could hear the rumble of the stair lift on its way down.