Chapter Four

A Church Sunday

It was a bright, sunny Sunday morning. Mike and I were on our way to church. Dad was still in righteous slumber; the good Lord did not require his presence today. Such a glorious morning it was. The water in the canal glistened happily in the early sunlight; the air was still cool, but showed promise of what was to come; sparrows and starlings and the occasional seagull competed for the right to be heard. It was indeed a church Sunday.

As we approached the first bridge an old man, probably in his seventies, came towards us. He was using the safety-rail of the bridge as a support and he was bent forward almost at right-angles as he walked. He was dressed for winter for he had on a jumper, a coat, an overcoat and a woollen scarf, and on his head a misshapen trilby.

We offered “Good morning” to him, but he angled straight past us and continued on up the canal bank. Since it was a holy day and we were in a saintly state, our giggles and guffaws were kept to a seemly minimum.

We reached the second bridge and as if on signal a grace of swans, twenty or more, came gliding by. They were our friends and they knew it was Sunday. As usual, we were loaded up with old bread crusts and any kind of scrap we could lay our hands on. The swans, at least the older ones, waited in regal silence for breakfast to be served; some of the younger ones had not yet learned the niceties of dining propriety and were beginning to display shameful impatience – on a Sunday too!

As we were serving our royal guests, and being careful to ensure that each one was treated equally, out of the corner of my eye I spotted the old man who by now had come to a halt by one of the wooden bollards near the water’s edge. He was looking around him as though he had lost something. I nudged Mike and indicated with a nod of my head in the old man’s direction. As we continued to watch, the stranger took off his overcoat, folded it neatly, and placed it on top of the bollard. Next came the scarf and then the jacket. The trilby followed and lastly his jumper, leaving him in shirt, pants and braces. Perhaps he’s going to sun himself, I thought.