Skinny Dipping (12 page)

***

Sophie left work earlier than usual, deflated by the thought of being spinster Sophie. She struggled to keep her inner strength, her resolve. Holding a printout of Matthew’s instructions she ran the bathtub, sitting in the water as it filled up, in an almost claustrophobic manner. Should she trust his cryptic dolphin and mermaid directions? Surely he was only trying to be funny and she could rely on his decent nature?

She felt a small amount of scepticism in the bottom of her belly. She wore her swimmers, bathing cap, and goggles. The gear felt stifling, restrictive. Surely all this couldn’t help? She got in the tub and sat down. Was she really going to put her head in the water and blow bubbles?

A knock sounded on the bathroom door. Hooray, a rescue party. The thought of choking in the water forced her out of the tub. Any swimming practise she’d do would be in the pool under Matthew’s supervision. She wouldn’t use cryptic instructions.

“Sophie what are you doing?” Carol’s voice spoke from the other side of the door.

She threw off the bathing cap and goggles, and stood dripping on the bathmat.

“You’ve been in there forever and the vegetable curry you made is bubbling over.” She needed that curry not to burn, as she was fighting her war on fat as well as her desire not to learn how to swim.

“I’ll be out in a second,” she said, with unmistakable urgency in her voice as she tore off the swimming costume. If she couldn’t even wear the gear in the bathtub, how was she going to survive in the pool? How was she going to survive the water? The humiliation?

Before leaving the bathroom, she did one hundred leg raises. That night, she dreamt of choking, drowning in the water.

How was she going to survive the fear?

Chapter 8

A week passed of Sophie squatting, bending and lunging. The more Sophie stared at her thighs, the less impact she seemed to have made from the useless exercises. By the time Thursday evening came, she was sweating, having to reveal her legs and, of course, get in the pool for the dreaded swimming lesson.

Flashbacks of her drowning incident replayed in her mind. She desperately tried to push the thoughts away. They wouldn’t serve her. The accident was almost twenty-five years ago, so why could she still remember the way it felt when her eyes seemed like they were going to pop out of her head when she was struggling to get air?

She arrived at
Highbury Aquatic Centre
and felt as if someone was sitting on her chest. Each breath was a struggle. Her heart constricted. This was what it must feel like to have a heart attack. She stood in the outside reception, her mouth dry, clutching her Mary Poppins bag, containing the swimming essentials.

“Hi, Eve,” she said. “I’m here for my lesson with Matthew.”

Eve ran her dark eyes over Sophie’s sweat pants and t-shirt, giving an approving nod.

“Sophie? You look different, not so dressed up. Much more sporty. Much more prepared for a visit to the pool.”

Sophie inhaled, trying to steady her voice, hide her fear. “Yeah, I look different without loads of makeup. I was on my way to work the other day.” She ran a shaky hand through her severe ponytail, playing with the strands at end. “What do I have to do to start?”

“Sign the book.” Eve passed her a pen. “Matthew’s a great teacher; don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

Sophie focused her thoughts on writing as neatly as she could, trying to ignore the apprehension crawling up the back of her neck.

She glanced at the clock above the counter, five minutes to eight. She grabbed onto the reception counter, stalling for time, trying to encourage conversation. “Is there anything else I need to do?”

“Just get changed,” Eve said with a friendly smile. “You’re going to be late.”

Her mobile phone rang, and the name Mum flashed up on the caller ID screen. Sophie silenced it, promising to herself to ring later.

“Yup, better get into my swimsuit.”

She wandered to the locker rooms and slid into a small changing cubicle, not quite understanding why men went crazy for girls in swimsuits. She pulled the lycra swimsuit over her body. She hated the slimy feeling of the fabric, stretching over her like she’d been devoured by a snake and was stuck in its scaly skin. This skimpy, tight outfit was not a man magnet, no matter how she looked at it.

The suit pulled over her chest, flattening her breasts, taking away any womanly charm. The fabric was tight and unforgiving on her thighs.

On her head, she wore the bathing cap, a gift from Matthew, who thought he was a dolphin. Fuck she was having lessons with a crazy man who thought he was a dolphin. With her long brown hair stuffed up under it, the swimming cap created a smooth cone shape on her head – not an overly attractive appearance. The goggles he’d given her were the clincher, the buggy glasses pulling focus from her brown eyes. Yet she pulled the strap tighter, certain to create a nice red ring around the eye socket. There was no way any chlorine was splashing, or getting into her eyes during this dreaded lesson. And she didn’t care if she looked half alien. Nope, this was the outfit, and she patted down all the necessary protective accessories. All parts were required to face her fear.

There was one more item, she held onto a plastic kickboard, as if it were her own secret weapon, her life raft, saving her from the possibility of drowning.

She pushed her shoulders back, opening the changing room door and exited the bathroom wondering what scared her more. Being seen in the bright red swimsuit or flapping helplessly in the pool as the water choked her?

A surge of panic gripped her, striking out with absolute clarity. What on earth was she doing here, standing in this ridiculous outfit, looking out into a swimming pool?

The water was glittering, and shimmering on the surface, inviting her to step into the pool like an evil temptress.

Matthew was leaning on the other side, at the deep end. Of course, being as gorgeous as he was, women of all ages surrounded him, all hanging off every word he said. Not one lady looked as ridiculous as she felt, she noted. They looked like they’d made some type of super effort to go to the local pool, faces plastered with make-up. Hopefully they were wearing waterproof mascara, because there was no way anyone had such long lashes. There were no bathing caps, no goggles, and no one-pieces. They all wore bikinis. Her heart constricted and a thought flew into her mind, she was the pool geek. The awkward girl. She’s never been in this position before, and everyone here would feel sorry for her, pity her. There was no chance at being glamorous or stylish. She shivered, she couldn’t... no she wouldn’t take the accessories off. As much as she would like to strut around, she needed them to survive.

As though he sensed her anxiety he turned around, flashing his come-hither, broad dimpled smile. She felt her knees buckle slightly, momentarily unsteady, as she gazed at him. He was devastatingly handsome. But that wasn’t enough to get her into the water.

His head of blond hair sank beneath the surface, his figure propelling through the water, torpedoing straight for her.

“Holy crap,” Sophie whispered. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Matthew’s head broke through the surface, shaking droplets from his hair as he emerged in front of her, where she stood with trepidation overlooking the pool.

He looked at her, raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Sophie, come on in.”

She let out a long low whistle. “I guess this is it,” she said and without further hesitation, dropped her towel, stepping over to the ladder.

She stood on the top rung, grimaced as her toes scrunched the edge. She looked out into the horizon, trying to focus on the children splashing in the distance rather than the large, overwhelming body of water, which was simply waiting to swallow her whole.

Her body froze, and for her, this was a normal natural reaction. She looked down, Matthew smiled, probably thought he was encouraging her. Hardly. She felt even more nervous, quite possibly because he was so blooming good looking. If only she had an ordinary looking bloke giving her swimming lessons. That might be better.

This was it, she would take the plunge. She shut her eyes, and she gripped the kickboard, ready to plunge.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Matthew interjected.

She flicked them open, her hands coiling round the kickboard. “I’m psyching myself up. This is my method.”

“Why don’t you try something a little bit different to psych yourself up? Maybe say something positive. Using positive reinforcement is supposed to be very effective in times like this.”

“How do you mean?”

“Speak to yourself, talk out loud and say positive thoughts. Look for something, anything you can see is positive, in this situation. Or, maybe just say, you like swimming. Simple. Effective. That’s probably the easiest, and that’s the overall goal, isn’t it, for you to like swimming?”

“I thought
surviving
was the main goal and major objective here?” Not being choked to death by water.

Mathew laughed. “Yes, surviving is definitely a goal here in the pool. But if you keep telling yourself that you like swimming, and you say the phrase often enough, you’ll eventually believe it. You will have created a self-fulfilling prophecy. Your own mantra.”

Sophie looked at Matthew, her voice loaded with scepticism. “Really?” She raised her eyebrows not that he’d probably see under her goggles and apparatus. She made a face anyway, he was crazy.

“Come on, give it a go. Give it a chance. Just say you like swimming. Say the phrase three times, as you get into the pool. This type of positive thinking works wonders. You’ll see.”

She narrowed her eyes, looking for signs of madness. His gaze was straight, serious. He didn’t seem to have any gauges, bite marks, or grazes from rabid dogs on his bare skin, and she could see quite a lot of bare skin. Matthew was wearing only swimming trunks.

The words stuck in the back of her throat, so unfamiliar, unnatural to her normal thinking.

“I like swimming.” She almost choked on the phrase, lifting one foot in the air, ready to jump.

Matthew held his hand up, indicating she should stop.

She halted, didn’t enter the water, furrowing her brow in confusion, wasn’t this the point of the exercise, to enter the harrowing depths, to get wet?

“Rather than simply jumping into the pool, why don’t you face the ladder? You don’t need the kickboard quite yet either, rest that on the edge of the pool. We’ll use that another day.”

Sophie placed the kickboard, by the side of the pool, feeling her stomach lurch like she’d cut her own umbilical cord and now was as helpless as a newborn babe.

“Facing the ladder will control your descent and help prevent water getting up your nose.”

Sophie swivelled, faced the ladder, and was suddenly aware of Matthew’s view. Her bottom and thighs, both wobbly, would both be at head height for him, the perfect position for him to gaze on, if he so desired. She didn’t want to rearrange her swimsuit now, didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Could she feel the suit sliding up? Possibly, it was probably riding up, right up her bottom. Oh God, she’d look even more like some type of lycra idiot. She needed to get into the water, fast.

She took a step down the ladder. Her priority became clear: thighs and bottom must get into the water to find coverage –now. Hesitation was not going to help in this instance, it was best to blank her mind from the fears.

“Say you like swimming.”

“I like swimming.” The words almost blended together, she spoke so fast, dropping another rung. She winced, flinched, feeling the water splash her toes, surprised by the cool temperature.

“You’ll warm up, I promise you. It’s not cold once you get moving around.”

She didn’t have time to focus on the temperature because her thighs and bottom were still hovering in the air, too close for Matthew’s inspection.

She stepped down onto the next rung, closer to her thighs being submerged and safely covered. Then another rung. Thighs were safe! Phew! Her excitement mounted. She could do it.

“For the third and final time, you know what you need to say,” Matthew continued, prattling along like he thought she cared about his positive thinking, positive speaking mantra.

She’d say the words, speak any phrase at this point, she just needed to hide herself within the water. “I like swimming,” she said with a joviality he mistook for her enthusiasm as she reached the last rung, lowering her body into the depths. “Hoorah,” she said. She was covered, safe and secure.

“You’re in,” Mathew said, with exuberance, matching hers.

“I’m in.” There was an element of pride in her words mixed with a splash of hope. Surely getting in was enough, more than enough, for the first lesson.

Then she realised she was in. Actually in the water. Her eyes roamed wildly, children screaming, possibly joyously. Other kids, dived into the depths. Some enthusiasts were even swimming laps.

She held onto the ladder rail, fingers gripping tightly. This was a very safe spot, she should just stay here. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Now that she was in the water, the fear shot back through her body. She had bigger issues to contend with – the pool, the water, and of course, drowning.

“I need you to turn around from the rail. I’ve got a pool noodle for you to hang on to. They float and can support you if you like.”

It felt like eternity for Sophie and she turned around from the pool ladder, and like he promised, Matthew stood in front of her, holding onto a cylindrical piece of green foam.

“As a start, you’re going to have to let go of the rail; here take the noodle.” He held it out to her.

She flattening her back against the ladder. The rail felt solid. Safe. “Now that’s a crazy idea.” She smiled brightly at him, the cool water made her feel somewhat more alert.

“We’re going to move a fraction to the side, to the wall. Not too far, but just so other people can get into the pool. So when you let go of the rail, hold onto the noodle, it floats and you’ll be perfectly safe.”