Short Story: Jenny

Short Story: Jenny

Jenny was made from smooth, hard wood, but for that long hot summer, she was our best friend. Jenny was our very own, semi-private, if a little tatty, river jetty.

The long walk down to the river provided its own entertainment. The journey over the suspension bridge was filled with the nervous laughter from the multi-coloured tourists. The drunken swagger of the bridge dizzied the older travellers, while the younger and more daring explorers endeavoured to rock the huge, steel mass further. This was a futile exercise, as no amount of wild jumping on the heavy wooden boards would add to the natural movement of the sturdy construction.

Then there were the real daredevils, standing on the nauseatingly high balustrade, psyching each other and themselves up to take the dangerous plunge into the black icy water below. Screaming and shouting could be heard as far away as the meadows, as these audacious adrenalin junkies leaped into the air like crazy, flying squirrels.

Lidia, my older sister, Dianne, our 'always there' friend, and I would spend hour upon hour down at the river, lazing about like three forgotten lilos on a deserted beach. Dianne was, strictly speaking, Lidia's comrade. I was over a year younger than both of them, but they graciously allowed me to become their temporary appendage.

We first discovered the jetty tucked away behind the overgrown buddleia trees, swarming with brightly coloured butterflies, the high glossy river reeds behind those. With fearless, childlike excitement, we took our first steps onto the upper bridge, before the steep incline down to the massive floating platform. We stood there giggling at our incredible find as we balanced on the wobbly boards, whilst looking out onto the glistening still water with the sun bouncing off, so bright, we had to squint our eyes against it. We were suddenly silenced by the calm, peaceful beauty of the river.

This was not a place where petty family arguments could exist, nor could teachers chastise us for our rabid dogs chewing up our maths homework. Even the wrinklies couldn't bark at us for behaving like hooligans.

The three of us slowly sat down on the warm wood, soaking up the heat from this scorching summer day. After a while, a moor boat rumbled by, causing the platform to rock up and down gently with the waves. This motion gave us the feeling of helplessness as our weight had little or no effect at all upon the movement, but it was a welcome helplessness, like being carried away by a kindly giant sequoia, brought to life by some mystical spell. Being surrounded by the huge structure of wood was so comforting with it's rhythmic swaying, that we would not want to leave our new found haven, until dusk that day, or any day. When asked by our curious parents where we were running off to day after day, with our back packs filled to bursting with snacks and treats, we conspired to intrigue. Our river home should have a code name; Jenny, seemed as good a name as any.

'Where do you girls rush off to everyday?' enquired our parents.

'We're just going to Jenny's,' we would call over our shoulders, as though they were quite foolish for not knowing who Jenny was.

Once settled into cosmopolitan living deck, out would come the abundant booty; cheese and onion crisps, sausage rolls, cherry Bakewells and lashings of ginger beer or cherry Cola. Our lunchtimes at the jetty would more often than not deliver to us all manner of local wildlife. We loved to watch the drakes with their emerald green plumage following closely behind the contrastingly dull hens. My favourite river creatures were the elegant, ballerina-like swans. They reminded me of a childhood story of a princess, cursed to live half of her life as beautiful but heartbreakingly lonely swan. I would watch these majestic animals for an age, struggling to imagine what it must be like to glide through the water with such ease, before lifting into the air within a breath on those gargantuan wings, outstretched and consummately powerful.

Reminiscing about that carefree time at the jetty on the River Dee seems a lifetime ago now, but a wonderful time to look back on.