By a fishermans charm
Gwendolyn had been an avid angler long before she retired. Once she finally hung up her work boots, she spent every spare hour beside the Avon, rod in hand, waiting for a bite. Her husband, Nicholas, kept at his job as a coach at the local junior sports academy. He was a good coach his pupils earned the little village of Willowbrook a reputation that stretched far beyond the county, their victories lighting up the name of the Willowbrook Sports School.
It was clear, then, that Nicholas, as a loving husband, would have liked nothing more than to sit beside Gwendolyn on the riverbank, watching the waters gentle glitter for hours. Yet his schedule was relentless: training sessions, drills, competitions left him little room for leisure. He had not yet retired under the new pension rules, so only weekends offered a chance to escape to the river. Gwendolyn understood this, and she never pressed him for more time.
One Saturday, during the great lockdown, the whole family decided to go fishing together. Children were home schooling, and Nicholas, feeling unusually lighthearted, packed his fishing tackle, coaxed his wife and his two small grandchildren, Stanley and Eve, into the car, and set off from the backyard. By the adjoining cottage lived young Kirby, a neighbour of the same age as the twins, who watched the car pull away with a mix of disappointment and curiosity. He realised they were heading for a fishing trip the rods were already strapped to the roof.
Kirbys grandmother, Violet, stepped out of the cottage, eyes bright.
May I join you? she asked, smiling at Nicholas.
Well be waiting, Nicholas replied.
Hurrah! the grandchildren shouted from the back seat.
Kirby slipped a knit cap further over his ears, wrapped a woollen scarf, and tucked his mittens into his coat before sliding into the rear seat beside his cousins.
They arrived at the familiar spot where the Bakers always fished. The river here held pike large, plump specimens that the locals prized. Nicholas built a small fire on the bank so the youngsters could warm their hands. Gwendolyn settled onto a folding stool with her rod, while Nicholas kept a respectful distance, letting each of them try their luck. They were using live bait tiny minnows and Gwendolyn watched her float intently, never losing sight of the children as they played hideandseek and chase.
Soon the float dipped. Gwendolyn tugged gently, feeling the tug of a fish. After a halfminute struggle, a sleek pike leapt into the air and, with a swift flick of her wrist, landed in the bucket of water.
The first ones caught, she said, satisfied. She baited the hook again and cast.
The grandchildren, meanwhile, pulled a battered football from the boot and began drawing a goal on the sand, eager for a game of onegoal football. Their laughter rang across the water.
Another tug on Gwendolyns line sent a surge of excitement through her. She felt the familiar hunters thrill as a bigger, fatter pike took the bait. She imagined a hearty dinner of fishcakes later that evening.
When the children raced back to the bucket, three pike swam languidly inside.
Is that a pike? whispered Kirby.
Yes! The very one that grants wishes, Gwendolyn replied with a wink.
Really? Stanley and Eve shouted in unison. What should we wish for?
Maybe that the bucket walks home by itself, Violet teased, setting another minnow on the hook.
Its boring, Stanley sighed.
Gwendolyn tossed the line once more.
Then perhaps the princess will love you, she said, recalling an old folk tale.
Kirby, shy but eager, asked, May I make a wish?
Of course, she nodded.
Kirby cupped a pike, whispered something into its gills, and released it. The fish darted away, its silver flash disappearing into the river.
The moment lingered, and Gwendolyn felt a sudden, almost magical tremor. She steadied herself, remembering that in old stories anything could happen.
Stanley and Eve pressed their palms to the slick fish, as if speaking directly to its belly. The pike gave one final glint before slipping away, its tail flicking a farewell.
Gwendolyn, ever the witty soul, raised her arms and declared, By the pikes charm, by my own desire, may the fish grant all the wishes my grandchildren have whispered! And you, Kirby, too!
Nicholas later approached, eyes on the nowempty bucket, and asked with a hint of sympathy, No bites?
She spread her hands philosophically. Do good and cast it into the water, she replied.
On the drive home the children grew sleepy. Nicholas cradled Kirby, who had drifted off, and handed him to Violet. The grandchildrens eyelids drooped as they peered out the window.
Granddad, they whispered, what wish did we make?
Kirby, still halfasleep, muttered, I asked for a granddad
Shh! warned Violet. Dont speak it out loud, or it wont come true.
That night, Nicholas boiled a pot of traditional fish soup from the catch. The grandchildren settled down, but Gwendolyn could not shake the thought of Kirbys longing for a male figure in his life a granddad to love him.
Later, as she nestled against Nicholass warm side, she sighed, Its a pity for Kirby. He has no phone, no computer just a yearning for a grandfather.
Nicholas mused, I suppose Ive been decent enough to him.
Its just that youre not his real grandfather, she said softly. He wants his own.
A month later, as the New Year approached, Willowbrook twinkled with a great Christmas tree, garlands draped from shop windows, and snow blanketing rooftops and park benches. The schools prepared festive concerts. Kirby seemed downcast. His grandmother, Violet, came in with a broken thermometer and news that the little boy had caught a cold a cough, a sore throat, the worst timing for the holidays.
Nicholas understood at once that the child needed a grandfather figure. He thought for a moment, then a smile crept across his face. He dialed his old university mate, Brian, a fellow PE teacher who lived a hundred miles away in the market town of Ashford.
Brian, listen, Nicholas began, a lad here has no granddad. Im hoping you might fill that role for a day.
What do you mean, fill a role? Brian asked, puzzled.
Theres no granddad in the boys life. His mother raised him alone after his father vanished. Its a sad story, and the childs heart aches. I thought perhaps you could come over as a grandfather for the holidays.
Brian, who too had no grandchildren, felt a tug of empathy. I could try. Im used to dressing as Father Christmas for school fêtes. I could come as an old man, give him a present, stay a bit. Maybe that would help.
The plan set, Brians heart warmed at the thought of bringing cheer. His wife Vera, ever supportive, agreed, saying, We havent visited the Bakers in ages. Itll be a good excuse.
Just before Christmas, Michael, the Bakers son, returned home. Hed been a professional bobsleigh athlete after university, travelling for competitions. He arrived in his sleek car, eager to spend a few days with his parents. He, too, liked the idea of joining the plan.
The night before New Years Eve, the Bakers car pulled up at the Bakers cottage. Violet opened the gate, eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected guests Brian, his wife Vera, and Michael with his own son, a brighteyed boy named Thomas. Brian was dressed in a red coat, a white beard, and a sack of gifts; Vera wore a glittering blond wig and a fur-trimmed cape. Michael carried a box containing a pair of ice skates.
Is this our grandson Kirby? Brian asked in a deep, jolly voice. How is he?
Violet, blushing, nodded. Yes, thats him, hidden behind the Christmas tree. Kirby, clutching a baby carrier, stepped forward, eyes wide with wonder.
Did you order a granddad for the pike? he whispered, halflaughing.
I did, he replied, his voice trembling. Ive come all this way for you, Kirby. I may live far, but you are my dearest grandson.
Kirby, tears welling, asked shyly, Will you stay with us, even a little?
Of course, Brian said, glancing at Vera, whose face turned pale with emotion as she looked between her husband and the boy.
At that moment, a young woman in a white hat and dark coat entered she was Katherine, Michaels wife, dressed as a Snow Maiden. She rushed to Michael, exclaiming, Dad! A granddad has arrived, just as the pike promised!
Katherine hugged Michael, her eyes brimming with tears. Vera, playing the Snow Maiden, noticed the boys awe and whispered, Its all right, dear. Your wish has been heard.
The adults gathered around the fire, serving fresh pies and the smoked fish that Gwendolyn had caught. Brian realised the day had taken an unexpected turn, but the laughter, the tears, and the gentle glow of the Christmas lights made everything feel right.
Later, as the guests settled, Kirby asked, What was the third wish you made to the pike?
Gwendolyn looked at her youngest granddaughter, Lily, who had been watching the scene with bright eyes. I asked the pike for a sister for Kirby, so hed have a playmate, Lily whispered, eyes twinkling.
The adults chuckled and clapped, delighted by the simple joy of the moment.
The following year, on New Years Eve, a familiar Jeep rolled up to Violets gate. Michael stepped out, carefully opening the back door to help Katherine out with a neatly wrapped parcel. Kirby, now a little taller, proudly carried a stroller carrier. Their newest addition, a little girl named Gally, was named after the original fisherwoman who had turned that magical day into a legend.
And so the tale of the pikes charm, the Bakers generosity, and a boys wish for a granddad lived on, told each winter by the fire, a reminder that sometimes wishes do come true, especially when kindness and a dash of old folklore are tossed into the river together.
