Chapter 7 #2
‘No, I do trust you… to a point. But in the water?’ she winced.
‘In the water, where I literally work?’ he finished for her, his palms spread wide.
‘You’re right - I know you’re right. Let me grab my swim stuff and check that Lucy is all set.’
‘OK. Great,’ he said, looking happier at her change of heart. As she moved away towards the door, he caught her wrist, ‘Hey, Tony mentioned Lucy’s been working at the pub lately. Bit of a change from her investment banking job isn’t it?’
‘I think that’s the whole point.’
At Owen’s confused face, Holly explained, ‘That firm did a number on her, Owen. Worked her into the ground, called her at all hours - even at the weekend, and then when she handed in her notice, they pretty much banned her from working for six months. Reading between the lines, I think there was more to it, but I haven’t wanted to pry. ’
Owen nodded as he took her words in. ‘Tony said it had been a tough job. I didn’t realise it had been that bad. Poor Lucy.’
Holly pursed her lips, and nodded back at him, mirroring his actions. ‘Selfishly though… she’s been so great for the pub. She was wasted in investment banking. I’ll be back in a minute.’ When Owen nodded, Holly slipped out of his grasp and headed into the pub.
Her swim bag was waiting for her, where she’d forgotten it, on her bed.
As she turned to leave, her favourite grey cube caught her eye.
Her question of whether she needed to worry about Seb’s warning was answered with, Focus and Seek Your Answer Another Time, which wasn’t a terrible answer.
But the ambiguity needled her. Instead of asking the question again (she knew asking straight away again after an answer like that was not in the spirit of using the Fortune Cube) she made her way downstairs to find Lucy.
That ambiguous answer would have to do for now.
Holly found Lucy in the office, looking through the accounts.
‘All ready for your debut?’ Holly asked as she rested her head on the door jamb.
‘My debut?’
‘Opening up for the first time. By. Yourself,’ Holly punctuated the final words with a waggle of her eyebrows.
That earnt her a smile. ‘Ah I see. Yes I’m ready. I’ve learnt from the best, haven’t I?’
‘Flattery will get you everywhere, Lucy…’ she trailed off when she realised she’d forgotten Lucy’s maiden name. She’d been so used to calling her Lucy Barrett.
‘If the divorce goes ahead, what will your name be?’
If Lucy was surprised by the turn in conversation, she didn’t show it. ‘Calvert,’ she offered quietly.
‘Sorry, was that insensitive?’
‘No, not at all. I just haven’t said it for such a long time.’
‘It’s a good surname. Sounds chivalrous. I bet you’ve got some knights in your family history.’
Lucy rubbed her eyes and laughed.
‘What?’ Holly asked, checking her watch. She really needed to get going, but she could spare another minute or two to find out what was so amusing.
‘Nothing, Holly. You always manage to cheer me up - simply by being you.’
‘I’ll take that as the compliment I’m sure you intended it to be. Have fun opening up,’ she crooned as she turned to make her way back outside to Owen and his promise of something new today.
*
During the drive to the leisure centre, Holly had come to the conclusion that this something new was unlikely to be something good, but Owen was right on two counts.
First, she had been doing well in their lessons.
Years ago, she’d been able to swim - she hadn’t been a great swimmer, but she’d been able to do a half decent front crawl for ten metres, on a good day.
Until Maggie Montgomery kicked her in the back during their Year 4 Swimming Gala.
To nine year old Holly, that impact had felt like she’d been kicked in the back with the force of a flanker for Whitby Rugby Club.
She’d gone under and had swallowed lungfuls of chlorinated water.
The teenage lifeguard had been forced to jump into the pool and drag her out.
She could still remember the muted shouts of her mum as she’d clambered over the plastic seats in the viewing gallery to get to her.
Vividly, she also recalled the despondent look on the lifeguard’s face when he’d realised the watch he’d been wearing was not waterproof.
Even though none of it had been her fault, she’d felt so guilty he’d ruined his watch in rescuing her.
That fateful afternoon had been the last time she’d entered any body of water since - other than a bath.
The following school year her teacher, the cantankerous Mr Fincham, had despaired at her.
Each week, during their term of swimming lessons, he’d berated her when she’d sobbed and refused to get in the water.
He had tried a variety of tactics to make her join in, but each one had failed.
It quickly became apparent he couldn’t comprehend she was truly terrified - had just assumed she was being difficult or wanted all the attention that her constant refusals brought.
But it was as far from that as possible.
She’d felt so small when he shouted and accused her of faking her fear.
If she could have got in the water, she’d have done it - if only to stop his weekly scolding.
When he’d finally given up and announced she was unteachable, in front of the whole class, the final nail in her swimming coffin had been hammered firmly into place.
She’d buried that coffin deep, mourned for it each time she’d looked on as friends and family had fun in the water.
She’d made her peace with it - until she’d won these lessons with Owen.
And that brought her to the second reason he was right.
Owen was a great teacher; kind, patient, and observant.
He looked for the little signs she was struggling and adjusted their lessons accordingly.
When she broke it down like that, she knew, deep down, she trusted him in the water.
*
On Holly’s arrival at the pool, when she saw the small slide that had been attached to the edge of the training pool, she wasn’t so committed to that trust anymore.
‘What the hell is that?’ she asked, pointing at the red monstrosity clamped onto the tiled edge of the pool.
‘It’s a slide, Hols,’ he replied, matter of factly.
‘I know it’s a bloody slide - what is it doing attached to the training pool?’
‘It’s a technique I’ve used with–’ he stopped himself.
‘No, carry on, Owen. I don’t think anything you can say can make this worse. You use it with small children don’t you, young children… ergo it must be what I need.’
‘I was going to say, I use it with,’ he reached for the right words, ‘reluctant swimmers.’
‘Liar. You were definitely going to say children, Owen.’ She walked over to the slide and gave it a shake, checking how firmly it was attached to the pool. When she was placated that it was at least securely attached, she stepped away from it and turned back to Owen.
Instead of attempting to defend himself a second time, he smiled at her. ‘Give it a try. For me?’
Gently taking her hand in his, he led her to the steps of the red slide, and positioned her in front of them. ‘Wait for me to get in the water, and then slide in.’