The Elusive Language of Ducks (44 page)

You could've told us, says Maggie.

I know, I'm sorry. But I didn't think—

Anyway, says Toby, we would like to be a part of this and we believe you have some more bread.

You delve into the bag for the remains of the second loaf, about two-thirds of it, and you hand it over to Maggie who distributes the rest. To Simon and Toby. She pauses when it comes to you. You look at each other through tears, two little girls. She steps forward and you both hug quickly, intensely. And when she gives you your share, you are both trembling so much your hands can hardly hold the bread.

And now, crying, laughing, calling into the wind, you all toss your mother to the sky. And the birds are back, some gobbling greedily and squawkily around your feet and some taking her so neatly on the wing, before soaring high into the wind. And when there is no more bread, you and Simon and Maggie and Toby all lift your eyes to the seagulls, seagulls rising higher and higher, searching for a comfortable place in the currents to watch the world below, to observe the motion of the sea far below, the salty salty sea.

With grateful thanks to Klatch for forcing me to sit down at the table to write after a period of creative void. And also to the Winnies for your friendship and support, though where was Tim when we needed him?

And I'd like to thank those people who bravely read the raw manuscript and reassured me. David White, Katie Henderson, Judy Wilford, Karen Breen, Ann Glamuzina, Mary Holm, Clem White, Xanthe White and Chris Dunn.

Thank you to the team at Random House, and especially to Harriet Allan who never gave up pestering me, thank you thank you. In my mind you were always there pulling me along.

And with deep gratitude for my ever-loving and supportive family, and to my sweet husband, David, for the astonishing depth of his love and patience, his spiritual nourishment and his bewilderingly unrelenting belief in me.

To the generous and hard-working nurses at St Andrews rest home who cared for my mother so kindly.

To the late Chico who taught me everything I know about muscovy ducks.