Skinny Dipping (18 page)

“Of course we can just relax here a bit until you settle down and feel comfortable.” He handed her a kickboard. “Hold this for extra support.”

She looked at him, sitting there, his shoulders slightly rolled back, without a worry at all. Imagine if she could ever be like that, so close to the water.

“Remember, I’m here. I’m right next to you.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“You were so young at the time of the accident, and now, you’re taking control of your life, learning skills to help you survive, so it won’t happen again.”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice. “It won’t happen again.”

“Remember why you’re doing this.”

She laughed, hearing an edge, bitterness. Her reasons were mainly because she was too afraid to lose her job, and her career.

“I can’t be the only reason why you’re learning how to swim.” He grinned but a serious expression crossed his face.

“You?” She laughed. “That’s too funny.” She smiled and he smiled back. Sophie was sure that a lot of people wouldn’t mind being taught by Matthew especially since he looked exceptionally handsome today. “I don’t know anymore why we do the things we do.”

“Once you learn how to swim, think of how it will change your life.”

“Quite frankly I like my life so how is that exactly? How will it change my life for the better?” She was fascinated by his remark.

“Have you ever been on a boat trip?”

“Not really.”

“Or have you gone to beaches overseas, like the South of France, Australia.”

“Ah the exotic places, I bet you love going to those sorts of places,” she mused. He was a daring, adventurous type of person. “No, I’ve never gone to a beach overseas – or in this country, either, for that matter. I can see what you’re thinking. I’m boring. I’m not usually so lame.” She swallowed and looked away from him, not wanting to see confirmation in his expression.

“I never said you were boring.”

“Yeah,” she said. He totally wouldn’t be the type of guy to ever show an interest in her. She was way too straight for him. How unattractive. “You probably get up to some sort of near death experience.”

“Sometimes,” he chuckled. “After the swimming lessons, you’ll have nothing to worry about. You’ll totally be able to be involved. Beach. No problem. You’ve got options. Choices. What would you do if one day you have children, and one falls in the water? What would you do?”

She gave him a sidelong glance. She’d probably drown along with them, but that was a too morbid answer. One he didn’t want to hear, considering he was her positive and up-beat swimming coach. “Suppose I never took them anywhere near the water.”

“But what if you do?” he insisted. “Besides you’re almost thirty, you’ve probably got another sixty plus years left of living, and what if one day you want to get in the water – or you have to get into the water.”

There was no point being devil’s advocate, Matthew was far too passionate about people learning how to swim. “I guess.”

“What if….”

“What if?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “You’re out of reasons.” She laughed, feeling herself suddenly start to unwind as she sat on the step.

“I’ve got a reason,” he said earnestly. Taking up her challenge. “What if you fell in love with someone who loved the water?”

She shook her head. “I mix in different social circles.”

“But what if you did? Anything is possible,” he insisted.

She paused, analysed his expression. “Anything is possible,” she agreed. This was getting way too personal.

“You’re learning survival skills, so if you fall off a boat, a pier, or from the side of a pool, you’ll know exactly what to do. You’ll be safe. That’s the number one issue here, for you to be safe.”

“That’s right. Survival. I’m doing this to survive.”

“Remember you can do this. You can stand in the pool, or was I imagining you doing that?”

She groaned. “Yes, I can stand.”

“There you go, listen to what you’ve just said, look how far you’ve come. Did you think in a million years you would do that?”

She shrugged, feeling an element of pride. She shifted slightly on the step, very aware of how close he sat next to her. “Honestly?” She darted a look toward him. “No. I didn’t think I would ever simply stand in water.”

He grinned. “Life has a funny way of showing us how much we can surprise ourselves. Your bobs were excellent, you showed yourself you can go under, look around and come back up.”

“Yeah,” she laughed, lightly. “I guess.”

They sat on the step, not really saying much and slowly she gathered her calm. She was sitting there, wet, in the water. She looked up at the clock. There were better things to do with her time than just sit there.

“Should we get in?” She gave him a sidelong glance, still clutching the kickboard.

“Okay, slowly, calmly, like you’ve done so many times before.”

“Okay.”

Sophie got in the water, holding onto her kickboard.

Throughout the lesson Matthew like usual was relentless and irritating. They started with the bobs, up and down where she gripped the wall. Second, they bobbed with the noodle. She graduated to bobbing without any form of support or floatation device.

As Sophie proceeded through the exercises she couldn’t help but feel caught in a nightmarish aqua aerobics class. This was supposed to be a swimming lesson yet with all the squatting her quads burned.

“We’re going to try something new,” he started.

She hated it when he said that. ‘Try something new,’ what an annoying phrase. He’d ask her to perform some atrocious task and she’d find herself giddy with fear like a novice acrobat walking the tightrope without a net. Every time he asked her to try something new she felt like she was teetering on death’s door.

“I want you to float.”

Comprehension dawned upon her. “Float?” she said almost dumbly, feeling like she was back at grade school. She could feel pain in her jaw from grinding her teeth. “Really?” She’d lose control lying in the water like a letter in the alphabet with her arms outstretched, an “X” shape or a “T”. Not going to happen. Lifting her feet off the bottom of the pool. She’d lose control.

“Have I ever asked you to do something you couldn’t do?”

“Matthew I can’t float. I sink. I really do.” Her voice was running on repeat, as she screwed up her face.

“You’re not going to drown with me right here.”

“This is crazy,” she sighed. Defeated again and she was supposed to be the persistent one.

“How does it sound if you can hold onto the step?” The entry step on the side looked like a rather nice option.

“Come here trusty step.”

“We won’t move from the step, promise.”

Almost gleefully Sophie moved to the step, gripping her feet to the floor of the pool, wishing she could hold onto the tiles with her toes.

“Now watch what I’m doing,” Matthew instructed.

Time for Matthew’s demonstration. Could he drag it out any longer than necessary? She quite enjoyed watching Matthew, running her eye over his body but she didn’t particularly want to participate. Matthew hovered on the side of the step. He thrust out his arms, gripping the step where he held his body up, in a push up position.

“See I’m holding my upper body like this.” Oh he was indeed strong. She frowned, as she took careful note of his position. There was one notable and major concern: his legs. His feet were off the bottom of the pool, lying flat on top of the water.

“Now watch as I bend my arms at the elbows. I’m still holding onto the step, yet I’m nice and relaxed. I’m going to place my head into the water and once I’m ready, I’ll let go of the step and float. Watch carefully.”

Almost in slow motion he put his head into the water, let go of the step and simply hovered there, on top of the water. Sophie gasped. Miracles do happen!

He lifted his head up from his floating position. “Now, if you feel out of control, just grab onto the step. That’s why we’re practicing here, so you feel safe. See, I’m holding onto the step now.”

She nodded.
Feel safe?
Was he some type of comedian?

“Why don’t you have a go?”

It was her turn. Sophie gripped the step. She extended her body out behind her, but her feet remained firmly rooted, like a tree, to the bottom. Her two arms, solid in the push up position, held her body up.

She grinned at Matthew. Did she really have to lift her legs? He nodded, his eyes twinkling. With a rush of adrenaline, she felt her body tense up and stiffen with fear.

She plopped her head in the water, face first.
Please don’t drown. Please don’t die. Please survive.

Her legs outstretched, her stomach somersaulted and flipped as her legs came up. A sensation funnelled through her body like she was falling or flying. It felt unearthly. She was performing a Superman trick. No Supergirl. She was Supergirl trying to find her powers as her legs seemed to have a will of their own, bouncing quickly up to the top of the water.

She gripped onto the step. Her legs were now extended behind her and her face was in the water too. The last step of this floating business was to let go of the blooming step.

No way could she let go. Overcome with the sensation like she would topple over, surely, as her legs floated behind. Her equilibrium felt off. Butterflies danced in her stomach, rippling up and down causing an unfamiliar sensation. She wanted to release a slight scream but knew that opening her mouth underwater would not serve her. What happened to Supergirl strength, now that she needed it? She felt like she was about to float away.

She hated this. The urgent feeling, being pushed out of her comfort zone. A niggling feeling crept into her mind. Matthew didn’t seem like the type of guy to pull a rabbit out of a hat. Floating was not a magicians trick. He was taking this swimming experience very seriously. He wouldn’t joke around.

The reasons of why she was learning how to swim rammed her thoughts.

This was it. Her moment of judgement. Time to face her fear. She was going to die.
Let go. Let go. Feck it. Let go.
She let go of the step. It was time to float.

***

After her lesson, Sophie felt very much alive. The floating made her feel like she could do anything, and she even mentioned the advertising campaign, asking if they could possibly chat about it afterwards.

Matthew convinced, charmed, and persuaded her to allow him to giver her a lift back to her office. It was only eight-thirty. He drove to her building, then parked outside and insisted that as a client, he wanted a personal tour. “You see where I work each day; I should know more about you, don’t you think?” he insisted.

“If you are really interested I’ll show you my office, the floor.”

He grinned. “Excellent. I should actually know a little bit about who I’m paying.”

“You actually share your work with loads of different agencies. We only work on the Silver Swimming Chain.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“So have you met all the consultants from the other firms?”

“Possibly.”

“Do you get night time tours of their offices?”

“Possibly.”

She laughed. “Do you teach them how to swim, too?”

“Possibly.”

“You’re not giving me much to work with here.”

“No,” he agreed and they rode the elevator up to Sophie’s office in silence.

“You ask me to trust you, yet you don’t trust me?” She raised her eyebrows pointedly as she swiped her security badge to let them enter the floor, with Matthew close at her heels.

They entered the grand foyer of
Clarks, Clarks and Clarks Advertising Firm
. She held her breath, listening to the unnatural quiet of the office.

The foyer was of course empty. Sophie proudly pointed up the walls, showing Matthew the art displayed there. Even though she’d been there so many times before, she was captivated by the gallery of advertisements.

“I just love this place,” she said, turning and pointing to another framed advertisement staring back at them. “It’s the firm’s showcase. Our best work.”

“Is any of your stuff up there?”

“I wish. But not yet.” Sophie shook her head. “I love her. She’s grand.” Sophie pointed to a picture of a red-haired lady, holding a lip liner smiling seductively with puckered lips. “That campaign increased sales by three hundred percent.”

In excitement, she tugged Matthew’s arm. “Look at this advertisement – the toddler crouched under the wooden kitchen table. You wouldn’t believe how his cute, chubby face increased brand awareness.”

“He looks fat.”

“Well he increased the awareness tenfold for kitchen cleaning products.”

She stopped still, her feet in front of the only empty feature wall, waiting to be decorated like a blank canvas.

“This is the only wall empty,” Matthew said.

“Yes,” she mused. “Maybe, if the powers above like it, my advert will be displayed there one day.”

Matthew looked at her oddly. “You really love this don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said dreamily. “But I’m trying to change a little bit. Finding more work-life balance and all that. Apparently, I work too hard, but I can’t help it. I’m consumed by my job.”

“Hard to find balance if working is your passion.”

“Yes. You might find it the same with swimming?”

“Yes, a little.”

“I seem to be finding that I’m starting to miss out on other things. Come this way.” She swiped her security pass, leading him through doors beside the foyer, to where she worked. The office was eerily quiet, Matthew followed closely behind.

The desks were empty like a ghost town. “Sometimes there are teams here all night. Brainstorming until they hit the jackpot.”

“There’s no one here at the moment.”

“No, no there’s not. This is my desk. I’ll just quickly check Bradley’s office, to make sure I know if anyone’s around.” She tiptoed to Bradley’s door, poked her head through; it, too, was empty.

She turned round, and Matthew was right behind her. She gasped, her hand coming to her chest. “You scared me. I thought you were back there.” She’d been too absorbed, spying on Bradley’s office, to realise he’d followed her.

He took a step back, and walked back to her desk, a huge smile on his face. He stood there like a Greek god, every feature perfect, like he’d been carved from marble and sculptured to perfection. His stance wide, his head tilted to the side, his blond hair hung loosely over his forehead, every strand in the right spot. “Here okay? I won’t touch anything?”