The Duck Pond

People gathered around the duck pond as if it was a ritual. Every young boy and girl loved to throw bread to the ducks. Even some older people sneaked in some food for the eager bills of the feathered creatures. It was a pleasant village, rows of old terraced cottages lined the Green, a big open space, and at its centre the lovely still pond, its calm only broken by a gushing fountain. There was an old coaching inn, 'The Three Stars', a post office and a small corner shop selling just about everything possible in such a small space. Everyone in the surrounding area wanted to live near the duck pond. In real estate terms, it was very desirable. The little boy put his small hand in the bag of breadcrumbs.

"We'll have to go soon, Sam."

"Oh, please, just another few minutes.There's a duck over there hasn't had any yet."

"Allright, but be quick, we have got to catch the bus back to the estate. We don't want to miss it."

Sam and his mother Melanie lived on the council estate two miles from the village, but Melanie loved the duck pond so much, as did Sam, that she often got the bus, just to pay a visit. Chessington was where the snobs lived, according to Melanie's neighbours, and they didn't necessarily approve of Melanie and Sam's visits.

Melanie and Sam were oblivious. They loved the duck pond and the houses around the Green, the big oak trees and the bluebells in spring. They weren't put off by people's snobbery. Melanie was a single Mum. Together with Sam, now eight, they lived in a council house on the estate.

Melanie dreamed of living in Chessington, but knew that was only a dream - she did not even have a job. There was a lot of talk now about making people go back to work, and Melanie knew the Social Services might encourage her to get a job. She certainly wasn't averse to this. In fact, she would welcome it, but what could she realistically do.

The next day, she was looking through the 'Jobs Vacant' column in the local newspaper. Cookbridge Farm was looking for a housekeeper. The farmer, Mr. Coulton, had lost his wife to cancer a year ago, and now it looked like he was wanting to get going again. He had left the area last year, and some thought he might sell up. But no, he was going to get organised with new staff and get the farm working again, after grieving for his wife for the last twelve months.

I wonder if I could do that, Melanie thought to herself - a housekeeper. I have had plenty of experience here at home, looking after Sam and keeping the home going all on my own. Melanie did in fact keep the house she shared with Sam like a new pin. She was very organised; she would say she had to be on such a small budget. And Chessington, she'd love to be there. Cookbridge Farm was to the south of the village. It was just a short walk into the centre of things. It would be lovely to be so near the duck pond, and Sam would love it too.

* * * * *

That evening Melanie set about making her application to the farmer, but one thing that bothered her was Sam's school. It would be a two mile journey from Chessington every day to the state school on Trent Avenue. Melanie was dismayed. Sam was only eight; it would be too much travelling and he would have to go on his own.
Melanie thought this would definitely put a damper on things.

She did not like the school particularly, but Sam had settled in, or so he said, but really she thought he is probably bullied. And it probably had something to do with the duck pond.

Farmer Coulton looked over Melanie's application. Pity, he thought, she has no real farm experience. I will have to say no. The next day Melanie took Sam to the duck pond again. He had been asking to go. As they sat by the pond an older man of about fifty came towards them. It was Farmer Coulton. He must have got her application by now.

"Nice day, isn't it", he began.

"Yes", said Melanie.

"Is that your boy?" Farmer Coulton said looking over to young Sam.

"Yes, he loves feeding the ducks."

"I can remember when I was a boy on my father's farm. I loved the geese, the ducks, and feeding the pigs."

Sam sauntered over to Melanie, seeing her with a strange man.

"Do you like feeding the ducks, young fella?"

"Yes, it's my hobby."

As Melanie and Sam got talking to Mr. Coulton, all sense of time slipped away.He was an interesting man, and Melanie thought she would buck up the courage to say she had applied for a job with him. Before she could do so, Farmer Coulton got talking about the private school in the village, St. Pettigrews. It was now offering scholarships to boys who could not afford the fees. He suggested to Melanie that she apply. Young Sam could get his schooling in the village, he said,

"He can come and feed the ducks any time he likes. I'm on the board of Governors, Melanie, I will see what I can do."

"Oh I see", said Melanie, amazed by what he had to say. She then thought I better say who I am, that I have applied to work for him, see what he says. When she told the farmer she had applied for the post of housekeeper he was quite surprised.

"Well, I never", he said, "We certainly get on very well. I will let you know."

Farmer Coulton had decided: she was such a nice woman, and young Sam, a friendly boy. It would be a crime not to offer her the job.

* * * * *

Back at home Melanie made Sam some tea, and told him about the farmer's offer of a school place at St. Pettigrews. Sam was overjoyed. He admitted he was bullied at school and said what fun it would be to feed the ducks every day in Chessington.

Two weeks on and Melanie was looking around one of Farmer Coulton's houses on the Green.

"You can live here", he said, "It comes rent free with the job."

This was truly a dream come true. Melanie had wanted to live in one of these old houses ever since she could remember. The house had a wonderful view of the duck pond.

* * * * *

As summer turned to autumn, Melanie was doing very well in her new job, and Sam had begun the new year at St. Pettigrews. He was top of the class in the Christmas term exams. Farmer Coulton had a wonderful Christmas party and invited Melanie and Sam to join him. Over a glass of mulled wine, Farmer Coulton's eyes seemed to sparkle and twinkle like the Christmas bauble on the Christmas tree. Maybe thought Melanie, maybe one day.