Taking Flight (3 page)

“Their feathers are beautiful, if you look properly,” Luke says. “Pink and turquoise and green, not just grey like people think.” He passes round the two feathers for everyone to stroke.

“Best of all is when the pigeons fly off, in a great circle, and their wings flash silver in the sunlight as they turn.”

“Why don't they just fly away?” Mira asks.

“Because they know where they're fed, see?” Luke says.

“They're homers, and you can train them.”

“Have they got names?” Joe says.

“Yes. Each one's different, see? There's Silver, with his silvery head, and Bossy, who's the lead bird, and Queenie, because of the way she walks…”

Luke's forgotten that he was scared about talking in front of everyone. It's easy. Everyone's listening, and asking questions.

Mrs Hill gives him a big smile. “Well done, Luke!” she says. “We need to stop now, but that was fascinating. Thank you.”

Everyone claps.

“You were brilliant,” Mira says at the end of the day.

Luke blushes.

“Can I come and see them pigeons?” Joe asks.

“When my Grandad's better,” Luke says.
Mum finishes work early so she can collect Luke from school and they can both go to the hospital.

“Had a good day?” Mum asks.

“Yes,” Luke says. He's surprised. It really was a good day. His talk was pretty cool.

They tiptoe through the door into the ward. Grandad seems to be sleeping. Mum sits in the chair next to the bed, and Luke stands next to her. Grandad's breathing sounds funny. Mum strokes Grandad's hand. He opens his eyes. He doesn't recognise them at first. He thinks Luke is someone else.

“Speak to him, Luke,” Mum says.

“I did my talk about your pigeons today,” Luke says. “Everyone liked it.”

“Good lad,” Grandad says. “How are my beauties?”

“They're missing you,” Luke says. “I fed them this morning on the way to school. I'll let them out, later.”

“Good lad.” Grandad closes his eyes again.

“He's very tired,” Mum says. “We better not stay too long.'

“Tired,” Grandad echoes. “Tired out.”

Mum drives back via Grandad's so Luke can look after the pigeons. “I'll do a spot of cleaning while you let them out,” she says.

Luke gets the key and goes down the garden. The pigeons are crowding against the wire in their cages in the shed, jostling for space at the front, cooing and pecking at the empty seed hoppers.

“It's all right,” Luke tells them. “I'm looking after you now.”

As he unlatches each cage, the birds push and shove their way onto the edge and then take off in sudden flight. Luke watches each single bird become part of the whole, so that they fly together in a silvery wave, high over the rooftops and away towards the park.

Luke cleans out the cages with the special brush Grandad uses. He refills the feed and water. Then he sweeps out the shed and makes everything tidy. All the time he imagines Grandad is there, watching him.

Mum wanders down the garden. “Tea's ready,” she says. “We can have it here, today.”

“Grandad's a very sick man,” she tells Luke, as they eat.

“I know,” Luke says. “I can see that. He's not going to get better, is he?”

“Probably not,” Mum says, and a tear trickles down her cheek.

Luke holds her hand. He doesn't want to cry, but he can't help it.

On Saturday, Mum drives Luke round to Grandad's house as usual so he can look after the pigeons. She has cleaned the whole house by now, top to bottom. She picks flowers to go in the blue china jug on the kitchen table. Luke makes pancakes for them both for breakfast.

“I wish Grandad were here,” he says.

“Me too,” Mum says.

“Couldn't we bring him home and look after him?”

Mum sighs. “It would be nicer for him,” she says.

Luke talks to the pigeons while he gives them some corn. “What do you think? Grandad might get better if he came back home, don't you think?”

“
Croo
,
croo
,” they say.

Luke reckons that means yes.

When they get to the hospital ward, Luke and Mum have a shock. Grandad isn't there.