Fillets of Plaice, by Gerald Durrell by Fillets of Plaice Read Free Book Online Page A

bound to,” said Larry. “Still, it'll see us out.”
    That night the moon was so beautiful that we all lay in the shallow warm water and drank and talked. It couldn't have been more peaceful when, suddenly, the air reverberated and the cliffs echoed with a series of pistol shots.
    Unbeknownst to us, Leslie and Mactavish had taken Mother's pearl-handled revolver to the farther end of the bay, where Mactavish was showing Leslie how rapidly you learned to fire when you were in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
    “God almighty!” said Larry. “What the hell do they think they're doing? Turning the bay into a rifle range at Bisley?”
    “Gollys,” said Spiro, “I thoughts it was thems son-of-a-bitch Turks.”
    “Leslie dear,” shouted Mother, “do please stop doing that.”
    “We're only practising,” Leslie shouted back.
    “Yes, but you've no idea how much noise it's making here,” said Mother. “It's echoing back from these cliffs and giving me a headache.”
    “Oh, alright,” said Leslie, disgruntled.
    “That's the trouble with Leslie,” said Larry. “He's not aesthetic. Here's a beautiful, warm sea and nice wine and a full moon, and what does he do? He rushes around firing off revolvers.”
    “Well, you do things that annoy us,” said Margo indignantly.
    “What have I done to annoy you?” asked Larry. “Nothing at all. I'm by far and away the sanest member of this family.”
    “You're about as sane as a…, as a lunatic,” said Margo.
    “Now, now, dears, don't quarrel,” said Mother; “you know it's my birthday.”
    “I will play for you,” said Sven, and he played a series of melodies which were soft and beautiful, even coming from an accordion, and they fitted the mood and the setting very well.
    Presently we brought our mattresses ashore, spread them along the beach and, one by one, dropped off to sleep.
    After breakfast the next morning we had a quick swim and got on board the boat. The anchor was pulled up and Taki started the engine. It coughed into life, we moved some six inches and then the engine died.
    “Oh, God, don't tell me we're going to have engine trouble,” said Larry.
    Spiro, scowling, went to consult with Taki. We heard them muttering together and then suddenly Spiro's voice, like the roar of a bull, raised in anger, heaping obscenities upon Taki's head.
    “What the hell's the matter?” said Larry.
    “This stupids bastards,” said Spiro, red with rage, pointing a stubby, quivering finger at Taki. “This stupids bastards — if you will excuses this words, Mrs Durrells — forgot to gets any more petrols.”
    “Why did he forget?” we all asked in unison.
    “He says he meants to, but he forgot when he hads to go and gets the ice-boxes.”
    “There you are!” said Mother. “I knew it! I
knew
you shouldn't have moved that ice-box!”
    “Now don't start on that again,” said Larry. “Where's the next place we can get petrol from?”
    “Taki says it's Metaloura,” said Spiro.
    “Well, that's simple enough,” said Mactavish. “We can row there in the dinghy.”
    “I don't know whether it's escaped your notice or not,” said Donald, “but we have no dinghy.”
    It was very curious that none of us had noticed this, for most benzinas, especially when doing a trip of this sort, trailed a small boat behind them.
    “Well,” said Mactavish, flexing his muscles, “I'm as fit as a fiddle. I can swim there and get help.”
    “No, Mr Mactavish,” said Spiro glumly, “it's ten kilometres.”
    “Well, you can land on beaches and things and have a rest,” said Mactavish. “Easily do it by nightfall. Be back in the morning.”
    Spiro scowled thoughtfully and then turned to Taki and translated Mactavish's idea to him. But Taki was vehement. As from this bay to the next bay where petrol could be obtained it was practically all sheer cliffs, there would be nowhere one could go ashore for a rest.
    “Oh dear,” said Mother, “what are we going to do?”
    “Well, just sit here,” said Larry. “It's quite simple.”
    “What do you mean, it's quite