'Extraordinary!' said Larry.

'What he should have done,' Theodore pointed out gravely, 'was to point his umbrella at it and shout - "Stand back or I'll fire".'

'Whatever for?' inquired Kralefsky, very puz2led.

'The gull would have believed him and flown away in terror,' explained Theodore blandly.

'But I don't quite understand . . . ' began Kralefsky, frowning.

'You see, they're terribly gullible creatures,' said Theodore in triumph.

'Honestly, Theodore, you're like an ancient copy of Punch,’ groaned Larry.

The glasses clinked, knives and forks clattered, and the wine-bottles glugged as we progressed through the meal. Delicacy after delicacy made its appearance, and after the guests had shown their unanimous approval of each dish

Mother would smile deprecatingly. Naturally, the conversation revolved around animals.

‘I remember when I was a child being sent to visit one of our numerous elderly and eccentric aunts. She had a bee fetish; she kept vast quantities of them; the garden was overflowing with hundreds of hives humming like telegraph poles. One afternoon she put on an enormous veil and a pair of gloves, locked us all in the cottage for safety, and went out to try to get some honey out of one of the hives. Apparently she didn't stupefy them properly, or whatever it is you do, and when she took the lid off, a sort of waterspout of bees poured out and settled on her. We were watching all this through the window. We didn't know much about bees, so we thought this was the correct procedure, until we saw her flying round the garden making desperate attempts to evade the bees, getting her veil tangled up in the rose-bushes. Eventually she reached the cottage and flung herself at the door. We couldn't open it because she had the key. We kept trying to impress this on her, but her screams of agony and the humming of the bees drowned our voices. It was, I believe, Leslie who had the brilliant idea of throwing a bucket of water over her from the bedroom window. Unfortunately in his enthusiasm he threw the bucket as well. To be drenched with cold water and then hit on the head with a large galvanized-iron bucket is irritating enough, but to have to fight off a mass of bees at the same time makes the whole thing extremely trying. When we eventually got her inside she was so swollen as to be almost unrecognizable.' Larry paused in his story and sighed sorrowfully.

'Dreadful, by Jove,' exclaimed Kralefsky, his eyes wide. 'She might have been killed.'

'Yes, she might,' agreed Larry. 'As it was, it completely ruined my holiday.'

'Did she recover?' asked Kralefsky. It was obvious that he was planning a thrilling Infuriated Bee Adventure that he could have with his lady.

'Oh, yes, after a few weeks in hospital,' Larry replied carelessly. 'It didn't seem to put her off bees though. Shortly afterwards a whole flock of them swarmed in the chimney, and in trying to smoke them out she set fire to the cottage. By the time the fire brigade arrived the place was a mere charred shell, surrounded by bees.'

'Dreadful, dreadful,' murmured Kralefsky.

Theodore, meticulously buttering a piece of bread, gave a tiny grunt of amusement. He popped the bread into his mouth, chewed it solidly for a minute or so, swallowed, and wiped his beard carefully on his napkin.

'Talking of fires,' he began, his eyes alight with impish humour, 'did I tell you about the time the Corfu Fire Brigade was modernized? It seems that the Chief of the fire service had been to Athens and had been greatly ... er ... impressed by the new fire-fighting equipment there. He felt it was high time that Corfu got rid of its horse-drawn fire engine and should obtain a new one. .. um ... preferably a nice, shiny red one. There were several other improvements he had thought of as well. He came back here alight with... um . . . with enthusiasm. The first thing he did was to cut a round hole in the ceiling of the fire station, so that the firemen could slide down a pole in the correct manner. It appears that in his haste to become modernized he forgot the pole, and so the first time they had a. practice two of the firemen broke their legs.'

'No, Theodore, I refuse to believe that. It couldn't be true.'

'No, no, I assure you it's perfectly true. They brought the men to my laboratory to be X-rayed. Apparently what had happened was that the Chief had not explained to the men about the pole, and they thought they had to jump down the hole. That was only the beginning. At quite considerable cost an extremely ... er ... large fire engine was purchased. The Chief insisted on the biggest and best. Unfortunately it was so big that there was only one way they could drive it through the town - you know how narrow most of the streets are. Quite often you would see it rushing along, its bell clanging like mad, in the opposite direction to the fire. Once outside the town, where the roads are somewhat broader, they could cut round to the fire. The most curious thing, I thought, was the business about the very modern fire alarm the Chief had sent for: you know, it was one of those ones where you break the glass and there is a little sort of... um ... telephone inside. Well, there was a great argument as to where they should put this. The Chief told me that it was a very difficult thing to decide, as they were not sure where the fires were going to break out. So, in order to avoid any confusion, they fixed the fire alarm on the door of the fire station.'

Theodore paused, rasped his beard with his thumb, and took a sip of wine.

'They had hardly got things organized before they had their first fire. Fortunately I happened to be in the vicinity and could watch the whole thing. The place was a garage, and the flames had got a pretty good hold before the owner had managed to run to the fire station and break the glass on the fire alarm. Then there were angry words exchanged, it seems, because the Chief was annoyed at having his fire alarm broken so soon. He told the man that he should have knocked on the door; the fire alarm was brand new, and it would take weeks to replace the glass. Eventually the fire engine was wheeled out into the street and the firemen assembled. The Chief made a short speech, urging each man to do his ... um... duty. Then they took their places. There was a bit of a fuss about who should have the honour of ringing the bell, but eventually the Chief did the job himself. I must say that when the engine did arrive it looked very impressive. They all leapt off and bustled about, and looked very efficient. They uncoiled a very large hose, and then a fresh hitch became apparent. No one could find the key which was needed to unlock the back of the engine so that the hose could be attached. The Chief said he had given it to Yani, but it was Yard's night off, it seems. After a lot of argument someone was sent running to Yani's house, which was ... er .. .fortunately, not too far away. While they were waiting, the firemen admired the blaze, which by now was quite considerable. The man came back and said that Yard was not at his house, but his wife said he had gone to the fire. A search through the crowd was made and to the Chief's indignation they found Yani among the onlookers, the key in his pocket. The Chief was very angry, and pointed out that it was this sort of thing that created a bad impression. They got the back of the engine open, attached the hose, and turned on the water. By that time, of course, there was hardly any garage left to ... er ... put out.'

Lunch over, the guests were too bloated with food to do anything except siesta on the veranda, and Kralefsky's attempts to organize a cricket match were greeted with complete lack of enthusiasm. A few of the more energetic of us got Spiro to drive us down for a swim, and we lolled in the sea until it was time to return for tea, another of Mother's gastronomic triumphs. Tottering mounds of hot scones; crisp, paper-thin biscuits; cakes like snowdrifts, oozing jam; cakes dark, rich, and moist, crammed with fruit; brandy snaps brittle as coral and overflowing with honey. Conversation was almost at a standstill; all that could be heard was the gentle tinkle of cups, and the heartfelt sigh of some guest, already stuffed to capacity, accepting another slice of cake. Afterwards we lay about on the veranda in little groups, talking in a desultory, dreamy fashion as the tide of green twilight washed through the olive-groves and deepened the shade beneath the vine so that faces became obscured in the shadow.