Chapter Thirty-One
Once Mrs Casablancas – twinkly-eyed after a successful night of ‘sowing overnight oats’ with her date Desmond – comes to collect Squish, River and I drive to Hampstead Heath.
‘Okay, so today’s “Eliminate Gertie’s Writer’s Block” task is learn something new and have fun learning it,’ River confirms as we navigate the brambly paths of the Heath, the midday sun blazing down on us.
‘Now will you tell me what you’re planning on learning here at the park? Wait, is that a lake?’
‘It’s not just a park. And that “lake” is actually one of three open swimming ponds at Hampstead Heath.
I, uh, I have a confession, River.’ I lift up the tote bag I’m carrying.
‘This bag is not filled with lunch and snacks like I told you it was. I lied. It’s filled with towels and swimming costumes. ’
‘Swimming costumes?’ River’s nostrils flare. ‘Why, Gertie?’
I throw him a hopeful look. ‘When I nipped to Sainsbury’s for eggs earlier, I saw that they had swimming shorts for sale. And it gave me an idea. I can teach you how to swim!’
His face pales. ‘No fucking way.’ He turns around and starts walking back in the direction of the car park. I chase after him.
‘I got you proper shorts. The right size, I think, in a nice plain navy blue. Not speedos or tropical print or anything. Come on! Let’s swim! We’ll “have fun learning it!”’
River spins around. ‘“Learn something new and have fun learning it” was supposed to be for you. The books said it would redirect your neuronal activity and potentially help with your block. Teaching me to swim is me learning something new, and I don’t want to.’
‘Well, I’ve never taught anyone to swim before?’ I try. ‘So it would technically be a new thing for me.’
River peers over towards the mixed bathing pond, broad shoulders set rigid.
‘I will not,’ he declares. ‘Not in front of all those people. I’ll look ridiculous. Nope. Not doing it. Sorry, Gertie. No way. I’d rather be beaten with a sack of wet catfish. You shouldn’t have arranged this without telling me first.’
‘Okay,’ I say gently, realising with a churning stomach that I’ve completely overstepped. ‘That’s all right. I thought it would be fun, but I was wrong. Don’t worry. We’ll think of something else!’
River stands stock-still and examines his feet. ‘Why the hell did you want to teach me to swim anyhow?’
I shrug, exhaling through my nose. ‘I suppose I wanted you to go home knowing that this whole shit-show had been more than a colossal waste of your time. I thought that when you finally learned how to swim, you might see how fun it is.’ I soften my voice.
‘How just because we’ve spent our whole lives believing something about ourselves, it doesn’t mean it’s the truth. ’
River’s jaws flexes.
‘And when you’re back in Bedlam, I thought maybe you might swim for pleasure or peace, like when you go to your old cedar tree or the wood hut. When you did,’ I pause, ‘I hope that maybe you’d remember me.’
I look up at River, cheeks flushing at my own earnestness.
He frowns down at me. ‘Oh, I’ll remember you all right, Gertie,’ he mutters, shaking his head a little. ‘I’ll most definitely remember you.’
I hold up my hands. ‘Look, forget I ever said it! I can learn something else! There are classes all over London. I’ve always wanted to try rug tufting. We can go do that!’
River kicks his boot against some dried mud and peers once again at the pond where people are screaming and laughing, a short line of people in bathing caps waiting for the chance of joyful respite from this relentless heat.
‘No,’ he says eventually. ‘I’m really fucking annoyed at you right now, but I’ll try the swimming. Only because we’re here already, it’s as dry as the heart of a haystack today, and frankly, I’d rather publicly drown than do something called “rug tufting”.’
‘You sure?’ I press my hands together excitedly.
He grabs the bag from me and peers into it. ‘No snacks in there at all, huh?’
‘I brought us some custard creams for afterwards. But we can have them now, if you like? An apology for my overstepping. I really am sorry.’
‘I’ll do you a deal, ‘River says, mouth twitching. ‘You stop apologising so much and I’ll forgive you.’ He holds his hand out.
‘Deal,’ I laugh, taking his hand and immediately picturing how it felt pressed against the back of my head, and my back, and my bottom.
River’s eyes flash. ‘And I’ll be wanting your share of the custard creams too.’
*
‘That’s it! That’s great! No, don’t look at those people staring, ignore them. You’re doing great! Kick! KICK!’
River holds on to a floatie, kicks his back legs and glides through the mixed pond at Hampstead Heath.
While we’ve only been in the water for twenty minutes, we seem to have amassed quite an audience.
I should have thought this through. I should have realised that the hottest man – a man so literally out of this world it takes your breath away – paddling his way across the pond while clinging for dear life to a hot-pink floatie, would attract some attention.
‘This is mortifying,’ River grumbles as I swim beside him, having to expend all my effort to keep up with the speed at which he naturally moves through the water.
We’ve kept to the shallow area at his insistence and when River suddenly stands up, I’m pretty sure I hear a collective gasp from the fellow swimmers and spectators now watching from various deckchairs in the vicinity.
How did this crowd form so quickly? I wonder if people started texting their friends: You have to come see this!
River huffs. ‘I feel as dumb as a wagon wheel right now.’
‘Shall we try without a floatie?’
‘I don’t think I’m there yet.’
‘You are! You already know most of it. Your legs are perfect.’
‘Is that so?’ he asks, straight-faced.
‘I meant technique wise,’ I correct myself, but my voice squeaks because his legs are perfect.
Romantic-hero-level perfect. Thighs thick and sculpted, strong sinewy calves, golden skin literally glistening.
Do not stare. DO NOT stare at the golden glistening skin, Gertie, you great big perv.
God, how embarrassing. Note to self: Trying to put a lid on sudden rampant horniness is not helped by asking object of said sudden rampant horniness to wear only a pair of shorts and frolic in a pond on a beautiful summer’s day.
Yes, I am now aware that my feelings for this man are more than just a scientific surface-level attraction, but it does not mean that the scientific surface-level attraction is anything less than raging.
Focus, Gertie.
I try to shift my voice into a more professional tone. I clap my hands together like I imagine a real swimming teacher might. ‘Okay then!’ I chirrup. ‘Let’s get to it! I want you to move your arms like this.’ I do the breast-stroke motion. ‘The aim is just to stay afloat.’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’
River rubs the back of his neck, the vulnerability raw on his face. So utterly human I wonder how I could have ever suspected he wasn’t real.
I take the floatie and pop it on the banks of the pond.
‘I’ve got you, River. I promise. And if it makes you feel better, this is massively helping me! I’ve barely thought about Henry at all today, which honestly feels like a blessed relief.’
‘I’m ready,’ River says suddenly.
‘Amazing! Okay!’ I do the breast-stroke motion towards him one last time, but to my dismay there’s a muddy divot on the pond floor and I find myself flying forward as I trip over it. ‘Arggh!’
‘Whoa!’ River yells as I sort of skitter forward and bash into him, an almighty splash soaking us both through. My feet slip a little as I try to recover my balance and River’s big arms shoot out to grab me right before I fall under the water.
‘You okay there?’ he asks, clutching me to him and holding me steady.
His voice is soft with concern, but his eyes …
his eyes are suddenly black like they were on that last morning in Little Crumpet.
I glance down and realise that my breasts are now completely pressed against River’s chest, my entire body aligned firmly against his.
My hands are on his arms, his hands on my waist. His face is covered in water droplets from the splash, glittering like little crystals on his eyelashes and lips.
We both watch as a water droplet make its way down my chest and into my swimming costume.
‘I …’ I don’t step away from him. I should. I absolutely should. But I really don’t want to. And he doesn’t seem to want me to either. I find myself pressing a little closer, unable to help the small gasp as I feel him stirring in his swimming trunks. He narrows his eyes at me. ‘Gertie …’
A whistle shrieks so loudly that the pair of us jump apart.
‘No fraternising in the pond!’ the lifeguard shouts through a megaphone. ‘I repeat, no fraternising in the pond!’
‘Oh jeez,’ I mutter, thankful for the lifeguard’s much warranted interruption while also wishing him a terrible sleep for the rest of his life because oh my goodness.
River turns around to wade a little deeper into the water.
I clear my throat. ‘Shall we get on with it then?’ I say, following him further in, my entire body now lit-up and zinging.
‘You’re in charge, Gertie.’
I guide River beneath the water, holding on to him as he starts to tentatively move through it, but after a couple of seconds he doesn’t need my help, and then, all at once, he’s swimming away from me at a clip.
He doesn’t realise I’m no longer holding him until the crowd starts cheering.
The sound of it causes him to stumble a little before he stands back up.
‘You did it!’ I yell, laughing and clapping along with the crowd of spectators. ‘You were swimming!’
His eyes widen.
‘You weren’t holding me the whole way?’
‘No! I tried but I couldn’t keep up. You’re a natural. Look! They’re clapping for you!’
River starts laughing then, his surly face open with joy.
‘See? You barely needed teaching at all!’