A Coincidence by Jennie Hart

Harry woke seconds before the early morning diesel pulled into the platform. It woke him every day even on Saturdays as their terrace house was close to the station. Mum rented from the railway authority and he knew it was a struggle to pay. His eyes felt itchy and swollen and he rubbed them with his fingers to relieve the irritation. Harry’s hay fever lasted well into July and nothing relieved it except some pills from the doctor but they made him feel like an all-day sleep walker.

Harry shared the small airless bedroom with his eighteen year old older brother, but Jo had worked a late shift at The Cross Keys and was buried beneath his duvet. Mum was on the early morning cleaning rota at Harry’s school, one of several jobs she juggled, so he knew she wouldn’t be around when he went down to the kitchen. He dressed and washed his hands and face; the shower was broken and there was never enough hot water for a bath. It didn’t matter as he felt clean after swimming at school yesterday.

A pile of dirty washing teetered in the corner of the kitchen and jars, cans and wrappers for the various waste bins littered the worktop by the sink. Even the bin men must get confused Harry thought. His mum struggled to keep on top of things so Harry took the paper and plastic outside. They only had a front door, no side -passage so the coloured boxes dominated their tiny front garden. Some families had a few flowers and one had erected a fence in an attempt to hide the ugly containers.

He peered in the fridge knowing Jo would have used the milk when he came in last night. Ben made a cup of tea and piled in the sugar. There was a scraping of peanut butter, and he toasted the last of the wholemeal bread, including the crust. He didn’t mind; it was more filling. Mum tried her best to buy healthy food and she never bought ready meals. Harry didn’t know how she did it.

School was a ride away but Harry always walked, saving his fare to buy lunch. Mum never had a penny extra since dad left. He didn’t mind dad leaving; he was glad he had gone; he was a bully and Harry had always been scared of him. His heart used to race when he heard his dad’s key in the lock. Mum worked more hours now but he no longer sensed her anxiety as she waited for dad to come home. She used to stand by the window, winding her apron round her fingers until it looked like a creased old rag.

Harry couldn’t wait to go down to the river after school and sometimes he went with his friend Ben. They liked to run over the fields and through a little strip of woodland to where the river bank was less steep and where there was a kind of shingle beach to play on. Most of all, Harry liked this out- of -the -way place away from the town because a pair of swans had taken residence here. They would glide around or rest gracefully on the rough pebbles as if they were sunbathing. Some people were afraid of them but Harry thought they were exotic. With their sooty black heads, startling orange beaks and pure white plumage they looked magnificent and Ben wanted to know more about them.

 At the moment this pair of swans had cygnets and he would lie among the ferns and tall shimmering grass to watch without being seen. It amused him the way the young birds copied their parents behaviour as they waddled out of the water, preening and pecking at the microscopic river life that lodged amongst their feathers.

Today Harry went alone, creeping stealthily to his favourite place of cover. Unusually, there was no sound of wings flapping or their grey webbed feet shuffling on the stones, just a constant high-pitched peeping. He listened silently and peered between the lush summer grasses. There on the stony beach was a single cygnet, its head darting round, quite grown by this time of the year but still very much a brown feathery baby. He thought of the song his grandad used to sing. Didn’t it begin, ‘There once was an ugly duckling, with feathers all stubby and brown?’ It went on to tell the story of the ‘duckling’ growing into a beautiful swan. ‘They do,’ thought Harry, ‘I’ve read about them’.

A few seconds later the cygnet’s call became more distressed. It clearly wanted its mother but Harry held back. If the parents were to come looking for their youngster, they may abandon it if they saw him there, even a mere twelve year old. The cygnet waddled and flapped to and from the water’s edge; it was a pitiful sight but Harry stayed hidden.

More than an hour passed and Harry couldn’t stay any longer; he ran back through the woodland towards the town. Mum was working a late shift at the service station so wouldn’t know he was still out. Jo wouldn’t care as he would be out with his mates tonight. Harry knew the best thing to do. He sprinted at top speed back across the fields and along the edge of the football ground to a row of small modern houses. Ben lived here and Harry liked Ben’s dad. Harry and Ben’s lives were similar except in Ben’s case, it was his mum that had gone, leaving Ben with his sister and his dad. Ben’s dad was a decent man and Harry had no idea why Ben’s mum should have left but it was impossible to get your head round the way adults behave.

Harry was so out of breath he could barely ring the bell but was desperate to speak to Mr Johnson. He knew he was something to do with the river and would know what to do. He listened attentively to Harry’s story as he related the distress of the lone cygnet.

‘Well’, said Mr Johnson, ‘you could say he’s one of the lucky ones. You know what a Cob is don’t you Harry?’

Harry shook his head.

‘Well he’s the dad, a male swan. The female is a Pen and they mate for life. Sometimes the Cob finishes off the youngest or weakest of the brood by dragging them under water. Certainly cobs from other groups often do that, they’re not at all well behaved. At some point the cygnets are deliberately abandoned to fend for themselves. It’s probably the case with this one but let’s hope it’s still there when we go to find it, it sounds a bit too young. Come in for a minute lad.’

Mr Johnson disappeared inside and soon returned with a crate like a laundry basket with a lid, a towel and his car keys.

‘Here, hold this Harry and jump in.’ He gave him some crusts in a plastic bag. ‘Break it up so we can coax her into this basket then you can feed her while I wrap her in the towel. We’ll say it’s a lady as we don’t know yet if it’s a lass or a lad do we?’

They shot off down the lane in the old Peugeot as fast as the speed limit would allow. Mr Johnson knew exactly where Harry meant and in five minutes they arrived at the woodland and parked by a field gate. They soon saw the glint of the water in the late evening sun as they neared the river bank. Quietly they approached the shingle beach and immediately heard the mournful mewing of the distressed bird. Mr Johnson crept ahead with the crate and blanket and in less than a moment Harry saw him capture the bird and carefully bend its tender legs back over the top of his wings and loop a strong band over them. It barely struggled as he wrapped it in the blanket and settled it in the basket.

‘We don’t want the legs to break do we? Give him the bread now lad.’

Harry scattered the pieces in the basket near the bird’s beak but it paid no attention, craning its neck round in further anxiety at its captivity. Mr Johnson carried the basket back to the car and secured it on the back seat. They drove to the small complex belonging to the wildlife trust, by the river and on the edge of town. He gently released the young bird into a small holding area where water from the river had been channelled alongside a patch of rough grass. This time Mr Johnson scattered pellets of some sort; to provide nutrition and to comfort the cygnet overnight.

‘She’ll be safe till morning when we can have a go at introducing her to a pair of swans we are holding at the moment. They have three cygnets of a similar age and may accept another. Don’t you worry lad, she’ll be fine. Another month and she can go it alone. Now Harry, let’s get you home, your parents will be worried sick’.

Harry said he lived with his mum and brother and that mum would be home anytime now. He explained she worked a lot of hours to look after Harry and keep the house but his brother had a job now and paid his way. As they pulled up at the house, Harry saw his mum turn the corner of the street. She was looking for her key as Harry and Mr Johnson got out of the car and Harry called to her.

‘Mum, this is Mr Johnson and we’ve been rescuing a swan.’

Harry ran towards her and Mr Johnson walked up to introduce himself. There were a few moments of hesitation while the two grown-ups shook hands,

‘Why hello. I think I know you from a long time ago. Isn’t it Jane Porter i? You might not remember me? I’m Barry Johnson and we met on that biology trip when schools from across the county came together at that field centre in Suffolk. You and I were in the same group.

Jane smiled and Harry noticed how shy his mum appeared. She looked as if she were blushing. Harry had never seen her blush before.

‘Well what a coincidence, of course I remember you but it’s a long time ago. I didn’t know you lived near by.

‘Mr Johnson is my friend Ben’s dad, mum. You know Ben, he’s been here sometimes.’

‘I do know Ben but where is he and why are you with Mr Johnson? You shouldn’t be out at this time; I trust you to be in bed by now especially when Jo’s at work. Have you eaten your dinner I left?

Barry stepped in to explain about Harry’s concern for the abandoned cygnet and how he knew that Barry was something to do with wild life. He assured Jane that he admired the responsibility such a young lad had shown towards a vulnerable bird and how sensibly he had acted.

‘He’s a good boy and has had to learn to look after himself while I am out at work. I have to say we are struggling a bit as I am on my own now. And he’s a bit too young to be left. But you don’t want to know about me. Would you like to come in and I’ll make some tea, I shouldn’t keep you on the doorstep at this time of the night.’

‘Thank you Jane but it’s late and Harry needs to have his meal and go to bed. I’ve got to see Ben’s back home from his mum’s although his sister acts like his mum. I’m on my own too. Harry says you work a lot but if you have a night off, maybe I could invite you and Harry over. Do you like curries? I think I make a good one!

‘What do you think Harry? We do like Indian food don’t we? As long as it’s not too hot! It’s a long time since I’ve been anywhere except work.’

‘Mum that’s a great idea. Thanks Mr Johnson, when can we come?’

‘If I take your mum’s number we can make an arrangement soon. I already have an idea Jane how Harry can help me down at the centre and earn a bit of pocket money. He’s keen to learn about the swans and there’s a lot of other wild life we deal with too; we are basically a conservation team. Ben’s started taking an interest and the two of them could be a real help to me.’

Barry put Jane’s number in his phone and they said goodbye. He put his arm round Harry’s shoulders and said well done. He told him to call at the centre with Ben after school and see how the cygnet is doing.

‘I can set you on with a few jobs.’

‘Gosh, thanks Mr Johnson, see you tomorrow then.’

‘Bye Harry, hope to see you tomorrow. Good to meet again Jane, it’s an amazing coincidence. I’ll be in touch very soon now I’ve got your number.’