Contributed by Martyn Green Coordinator, Baywater Anglers
								And that was the beginning of the great chase, as the inhabitants of the pool – much, much later – told Lenny that they called it. The pollack, always keeping just out of reach of Lenny’s claws, led him a dance from one side of the pool to the other, back and forth, hither and thither, to and fro, keeping up a constant mockery of every one of the lobster’s movements. The laughter, however, stopped when Lenny refused to give in. No matter how hopeless he just would not, could not, bring himself to give up. He was beside himself with rage, lunging and clicking his claws together at every possible opportunity. Finally, however, the rage subsided and common sense came back in its place. With one last, futile, swing at his tormentor, the great lobster settled himself back to the bottom of the pool. He glanced up, just the once – and if looks could have killed the pollack would have been sliced, diced and served up in several portions – and then shook his head, preparing to use his brain instead of his brawn. Prunella, glancing out of the hole, was horrified when the lobster finally moved back to his feet and then, with a couple of swings, pulled himself, Tarzan style, up the seaweed of the wall. He cast one last look of loathing at the pollack, who was waving goodbye, and then pulled himself from the pool. A human, little bucket clutched firmly in his hand, took one look at the monster marching steadfastly towards him. “Mummeeeee!” “Yes darling? Whatever's the matter?” The little boy, safe in his mother’s arms, glanced back at the wall, which was now empty, only a telltale ring of ripples marking where a large body had plunged into the sea. “It was, it was, it was a monster Mummy!” “Oh, a monster, was it?” Two big eyes regarded her solemnly. “ It was, and it pulled itself up on two of its legs, and it went Haaaaaaiiii yah!” “I have told you about fibs, darling, haven’t I? Much later, when the little boy went to bed with a sore bottom, he sat in the dark thinking to himself, ‘but it did…” Lenny, meanwhile, had left the pond far behind. The only way, he had decided, that he could beat this pollack and drive it from the pond, was with the help of his friends, which was where he was going. A soft cry for help, coming from his left, drew the lobster round quickly. There just at the edge of his vision, was the sleek, enormous form of a seal, its eyes fixed intently on his face. For a moment, just a moment, Lenny quailed. The seal, with its powerful jaws, could catch him, crush him, chew him up and then spit out the pieces. He was in deadly peril or, now he looked closer, was he?” “Help me, please, help me…”
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