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Authors: Anne-Marie Conway

Butterfly Summer (11 page)

BOOK: Butterfly Summer
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I had no idea if that was true or not but I was meeting Mack the next day anyway, so I wouldn’t be coming to the Garden at all.

We wandered up through the fields, the sun beating down on our backs. “I wish you didn’t have to go yet,” she said, hugging me by the exit. “What time do you think you can get here tomorrow?”

I hesitated for a moment. “Erm, I’m not sure, to be honest, Rosa May. I’ve made other plans.”

She pulled away, grabbing hold of my shoulders, her fingers digging in through my T-shirt. “What do you mean? You’ve got to come. You’ve
got
to. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Well, I’ll try, Rosa May, but—”

“But
what
?”

I shrugged helplessly, pushing her arms off. I couldn’t tell her about Mack – she’d only think I was choosing him over her. I don’t know why she had to be so possessive.

“Look, I’ll try to come, but I can’t promise it’ll be first thing, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay actually. I thought we had a pact!”

“We do,” I said. “But it’s only one day. It’s not such a big deal, is it?”

Her eyes narrowed. “It is to me,” she said coldly. “Perhaps I won’t bother coming either, if that’s how you feel.” And she spun round and ran off, disappearing into the long, dry grass.

I made my way back to the green feeling horribly guilty. I didn’t want to change my plans with Mack, but I didn’t want to spoil my friendship with Rosa May either. Even with her funny moods and outbursts, she was still the best friend I’d ever had. I don’t know why she was so worried; I’d never let anyone come between us.

It was getting late but I crossed the lane and caught a bus into Farnsbury. If I was going to learn how to swim, I needed to buy myself a swimsuit, and I wasn’t going to find one at the Jacksons’ village store.

It was the first time I’d left the village since we arrived and I felt as if every person on the bus knew I was up to no good. I sat at the back with my face pressed against the window, trying very hard to remember why I’d wanted to go swimming in the first place. If Mum found out about this of all things, she’d probably ground me for the rest of my life.

I got off the bus in the middle of town. It was so big and noisy compared with Oakbridge; it was as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume on my life. I wandered around for a bit until I found the new shopping centre, the one Mum had been to with Stella. It was a huge silver building with mirrors everywhere and loud music blaring out of every shop. I’d never really been shopping on my own. Laura and I had gone up to the High Road sometimes, to get a milkshake or buy a new CD, but this felt different.

I found a lot of swimsuits, but most of them were skimpy bikinis with frills around the bottoms and tiny triangle tops. I picked them up and dropped them again, my face growing hot. Mum would have a fit if I came home with something like that – not that I was going to show her. In the end, I chose a purple one-piece with a pretty lilac pattern, and left as quickly as I could.

By the time I got back to Oakbridge I’d nearly changed my mind about the whole thing. The ball of fire in my belly had gone and I just felt hollow and scared. Sneaking around behind Mum’s back... Lying to Rosa May... Meeting up with a boy I hardly knew...
Swimming
... I was completely out of my depth and I hadn’t even got to the pool yet.

The bus stopped just outside the Jacksons’ shop. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson were standing in the doorway, sharing a bright orange ice lolly.

“What’s the matter, love?” said Mr. Jackson. “You look as if you found a penny and lost a pound.”

I half-shrugged, trying to smile. The Jacksons were always so nice to me – they were like the grandparents I’d never had. Mum’s parents died before I was born, when she was quite young herself, and I’d never met
anyone
from my dad’s family.

“Let me tell you something, Becky,” said Mrs. Jackson. “Some words of wisdom from an old lady. It’s what I tell Mr. Jackson whenever he gets himself into a state.” She smiled up at Mr. Jackson, handing him the lolly. “Worrying about things is like sitting in a rocking chair,” she said. “It gives you something to do but it doesn’t actually get you anywhere
.
” Her face creased up and she started to laugh her big wheezy laugh. “Do you get it, Becky? All that rocking backwards and forwards, going over and over the same old worries, and at the end of the day you’re in exactly the same place as when you started.”

“Yes, I get it, Mrs. Jackson, but—”

“She’s right, you know,” said Mr. Jackson, interrupting me. “You should see the state I get into when I can’t finish my crossword! Drives me half round the bend.”

I smiled, remembering the clue neither of us could get that day.

“You shouldn’t be worrying anyway, a girl your age,” he added kindly.

I said thanks and goodbye, then ran all the way home without stopping. I could hear Mr. and Mrs. Jackson laughing as I went. Maybe they were right. Worrying about things wasn’t going to help. Mum would find a new job and I’d learn how to swim and everything would be fine.

But when I got in, Mum was in bed
again
. All the windows were closed and the sink was piled high with two days’ worth of plates and cups. The only sign she’d been up at all was the puzzle. She’d practically finished the sky; hundreds of tiny blue pieces covering every centimetre of the old, wooden table.

I had the whole journey to Farnsbury to tell Mack I couldn’t swim. We were meeting his friends there, so it was just the two of us on the bus, but by the time we arrived I still hadn’t said anything. He chatted away, showing me things out of the window and filling me in on what he’d been doing for the past few days, while I sat there rehearsing the words over and over until they didn’t even make sense in my own head. Telling someone you can’t swim and that you’re terrified of water when you’re twelve years old felt like the ultimate embarrassment.

“You’re going to love this place,” he said as we got off the bus. “It’s got slides and a wave machine and—”

“Hang on a minute,
wait
!” I pulled his arm. “You didn’t say anything about
slides
.” My voice was so high-pitched it was practically off the scale. “I don’t like slides or wave machines or—”

“Woah! Calm down, Becky, don’t stress. There are two pools here – the fun pool and the swimming pool. If it’s Olympic swimming you’re after, you’ve come with the right person! I was practically born in a swimming pool. My favourite stroke is the butterfly. Most people can’t do it properly, to be honest, but it’s all in the breathing.”

Mack gabbled on, but I froze, unable to take another step. It was hearing the word “butterfly”. Suddenly all I wanted was to be back at the Garden with Rosa May, lying in the grass together, hidden away from the rest of the world. She was probably on the bridge right that minute, waiting for me to arrive – if she’d bothered to show up after our row.

“Earth to Becky! What’s the matter?” Mack waved his hand in front of my face.

“Look, I’m sorry but there’s something I need to tell you.” I swallowed hard. “I know I should’ve told you before but the thing is, well the problem is, I’ve never been swimming, so you see I can’t really swim, I mean I
want
to learn, but...”

I broke off, totally mortified, my face burning up.

“But that’s fantastic!” cried Mack.


What?

“You see, when I said ‘Olympic
swimming
’ what I meant to say was ‘Olympic swimming
teacher
’. I kid you not, Becky. I might not have the certificates to show for it, but I’ve never failed to teach someone to swim.”

I couldn’t believe it, it was too good to be true. “How many people have you actually taught then?” I asked, pressing my hands to my flaming cheeks.

“None yet.” He grinned. “But that means I’ve never failed, right? Come on, I won’t make you do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. Scout’s honour.”

The leisure centre was on the outskirts of town, next to a bowling alley and cinema. The smell hit me the second we walked in. It was horrible. I had to breathe through my mouth to stop myself retching. And it wasn’t just the smell. There was something about the whole place. It was familiar. Like the Butterfly Garden, and Butterfly Rock. That same strange feeling. I’d never been swimming in my life and I’d certainly never been to Farnsbury before yesterday, but somehow I
knew
this place.

Mack’s friends were waiting for him just inside – Stevie and Ajay. He introduced me and I tried to smile. They seemed okay but there was no point trying to chat to them, the noise was deafening. It seemed to echo through the entire building. I kept my eyes on the door, ready to run at the first opportunity. There was a queue to pay, but Mack waved a pass at the man behind the desk and he let us straight through.

“The girls’ changing rooms are over there,” he said. “Meet us back here when you’re ready. And seriously, Becky, it’s going to be fine. Trust me.”

I went off by myself to the changing area, trying to understand how some random leisure centre in Farnsbury could feel so familiar. It wasn’t as if I knew where anything was, not specifically, it was just this strong feeling that I’d been here before. It was so weird, like I’d lived two completely separate lives and my other life was somehow leaking into this one. It was seriously beginning to freak me out.

The changing rooms were packed with families. Little children learning to swim, some of them still babies. I changed into my new swimsuit as if I was on automatic pilot and made my way back out to Mack. He was leaning against the railings by the pool, wearing a pair of baggy black shorts. I shuffled over in my old pink flip-flops with my towel clutched round me, literally forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other.

The pool looked huge behind him. Serious swimmers were racing up and down the lanes, their arms slicing through the water like those tools with rotating blades.

“Stevie and Ajay have gone into the other pool to muck about but we can stay here if you want,” said Mack as I came over. “Just leave your towel with mine and follow me.”

I shuffled after him around the edge of the pool, keeping as far away from the water as possible. The noise seemed to fill up my head until it was difficult to think. Shouting and shrieking and yelling. Even that was familiar, like something you recognize from a terrible dream.

“I’m not actually going in,” I shouted over the din. “I’ll just watch for today.”

Mack stopped at the far end and sat down, his feet dangling in the water. “Come on, sit here next to me.” He patted the space beside him. “That’s all you need to do for now.”

I crouched down next to him, my legs tucked right up so that my feet could stay planted firmly on the side, rather than dangle in the water by his.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said. “I was scared of swimming when I was little. I didn’t mind being in the pool so much, the problem was I didn’t like getting water in my eyes. My dad used to bring me here all the time and all the big boys used to jump in and splash me and I was terrified.”

I glanced up at him. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I swear on my life, it’s true. They’d do these kamikaze dive-bombs, jumping off the side with their knees tucked up for maximum impact. I used to cry like a baby.”

“And was your dad nice about it?”

Mack made a face. “Not really. He said I needed to toughen up, act like a real man.”

“He’s not here today, is he?” I looked around nervously, half expecting him to run up behind me and push me in – just to toughen
me
up.

Mack shook his head, laughing, and then slid off the side of the pool, disappearing under the water and coming up again almost immediately.

“I just wanted to show you that it’s not
that
deep,” he said, standing up. “Look, it barely reaches the top of my chest.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m going to do that.”

“Course not,” he said. “I told you, we’re going to take things very slowly. We’ve got all summer.”

“What do you mean?” I said, my heart flipping over. But he gave me a cheeky grin and pushed away from the side, swimming up the lane, showing off like a real Olympic swimmer. I tried to imagine swimming like that, or even getting into the water, but it was impossible. I wasn’t even brave enough to dip my feet in.

Mack spent the next half an hour or so swimming a few lengths and then coming back over to talk to me, leaning against the edge of the pool, his arms crossed in front of him. Very slowly I began to relax. It was fun chatting and I felt pretty safe sitting on the side. I’d almost forgotten why we were there in the first place when Mack pulled himself out of the water suddenly, squashing up next to me.

“Listen, Becky. There’s one thing I want you to do today if you’re serious about learning to swim – and I can tell you are by that determined look in your eyes.”

I blushed, looking away. I was determined alright. Determined never to come anywhere near a swimming pool ever again.

“What is it? What do you want me to do?”

He slipped back into the pool and turned to face me. “I want you to reach your arms out towards me and I’m going to lower you into the water, holding you all the time. And then I’ll lift you out again as soon as you want me to. That’s it.”

BOOK: Butterfly Summer
7.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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