The Second Goldfish

 Arthur thought it was important to be honest with the children. There was no point trying to protect them from life’s harsher realities. Eventually they would learn the truth about Santa and the Tooth Fairy and all that nonsense in children’s books, so why not save them the harsh revelation and level with them from the start. Arthur was a realist, a pessimist and, from time to time, a bit of a misogynist. He was not all like Evelyn. In fact, Arthur’s wife was his absolute opposite. She was blond where his hair was dark and sleek. Her skin was tanned while his remained pale. Her disposition was dreadfully sunny. She was a resolute optimist. Therein lay Evelyn’s ongoing attraction. Arthur had known for an awfully long time, that he’d have to find a wife who was nothing at all like him, or he’d be miserable for the rest of his life.

Of course, Evelyn thought they should protect the children. They should cushion them from reality for as long as they could. Evelyn was all for Santa and the tooth fairy, the Easter bunny and all that guff. When the nursery goldfish died, Arthur thought it presented a great opportunity to teach the children about death and grief; better they practiced on a goldfish, than a creature -like a grandparent for example- who actually meant something to them. Evelyn said no, of course not, they were far too young. Sally had only just turned seven and little Matthew was barely three. No, no, no, Evelyn would not listen to Arthur’s protestations. A maid was dispatched to the pet shop down the road. She returned five minutes later with a second goldfish, almost identical to the first. The dead goldfish was duly replaced and as, neither Sally nor Matthew ever mentioned the swap, Evelyn felt sure they’d gotten away with it. 

When the kitten died six months later, having fallen into Evelyn’s ornamental pond, a similar switch was instigated. Though it took a little longer to track down a black kitten with identical white paws, a substitute was eventually found. The swap took place. Sally continued to play with the second kitten. She didn’t seem to notice any difference. Evelyn took this as testament of her ingenuity.

That summer Sally turned eight and Matthew, four. By this stage, Evelyn was on the fifth goldfish, a second substitute kitten and was on the look out for an elderly boxer to replace Rover, who’s heart had finally packed in. Arthur put the foot down at the dog. It was high time the children got a dose of reality. It wasn’t right to keep lying to them. Evelyn was going to turn them both soft. A tremendous argument ensued, the worst and most vicious argument of their ten year marriage. Arthur went stomping out of the house. He would stay with a bachelor friend over in Chelsea until Evelyn managed to calm down.

Evelyn worked herself up into a fury. Suddenly the blinkers were off. She could finally see Arthur for what he was: a cruel, pessimistic, belligerent bore. She did not want to spend another second with a man who was always putting her down. She had a glass of wine while she pondered her options, then she had a second glass, and a third and, by the time the bottle was empty, was on the phone to a former beau, a man named Sylvester who lived around the corner and was equally conveniently free and willing to pop over and consume a second bottle of wine.

By the time the children came back from school, Sylvester and Evelyn were almost supine upon the sofa. He sat in the spot usually occupied by Arthur. Evelyn lounged in her normal seat. The scene which greeted Sally and Matthew was reassuringly familiar. Mother smiling. Father lolling across the sofa, only Father did not look at all like he usually looked. It was painfully obvious this was a replacement. And not a particularly accurate one. Though Sally was old enough to understand that people were probably harder to replace than goldfish. They were so much bigger. There were way more bits and parts to them. She explained all this to Matthew later and told him not to worry, all would be fine. Father was dead but Mother had fixed it. They’d continue as before, pretending they hadn’t noticed the swap. Supposedly, this was what children were supposed to do.

Inspired by a line from Agatha Christie’s 1972 novel Elephants Can Remember