The Swim Club

Home > Fantasy > The Swim Club > Page 28
The Swim Club Page 28

by Anne De Lisle


  ‘That’s not going to happen.’

  ‘Besides, it’s only a few days since your wife left. Much too soon to be making suggestive comments to other women.’

  ‘Much too soon. Can I visit you again next week?’

  I laugh. ‘Okay. But no suggestive comments.’

  ‘Deal.’ He sets down his cup. ‘Now tell me why you looked as if you were going to punch me on the nose when you opened the front door.’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘You were frightening.’

  I explain. And to my horror my voice gets the wobbles and my hands grow unsteady on my teacup. ‘Sorry,’ I say, and set the cup down safely in its saucer. He gets out of his chair and I know he intends to move round the table to try to comfort me. I don’t want this. If I let Lee pat and soothe me, or put his arms round me, I’m afraid of feeling too comforted for my own good, so I hold up both hands, warding him off. ‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘I’m okay. It’s been years and I’m truly over it all. This,’ I gesture at one quivering hand, ‘is just today. The shock of seeing him. The knowledge that the boys are with him. The worry that they’ll forgive him in a nanosecond, when I’ve put in years of good, steady parenting to try and return the stability to their lives.’

  ‘I’m sure they appreciate that,’ says Lee, returning to his chair. ‘Children aren’t as impressionable as some people think.’

  ‘Thank you. But it has been hard, trying to be both mother and father to two growing boys. I don’t know if I’ve always done the best job. Mothers are no good at Skirmish,’ I add cryptically, and take another sip of tea.

  ‘No good at what?’

  ‘Skirmish.’

  He laughs when I describe it. ‘Sounds like fun. Let me come with you next time.’

  My eyes narrow suspiciously. ‘Are you using my children’s crazy hobbies to ask me out?’

  ‘Not at all. Just that I’d need someone to show me how to play.’

  ‘It sounds that good?’

  ‘It does.’

  The banter warms me, relaxes me. Time is flying. What I had expected to be the longest hour of my life is turning out to be one of the shortest. ‘Talking of children,’ I say, ‘how is Mabel coping?’

  A shadow passes over his face. ‘She’s with Anya at the moment, and young enough to be reasonably oblivious. I miss her terribly. I do think kids should be with their mum, but I’ll never give Anya full custody. Once the dust has settled, I want Mabel up here at weekends and holidays. Otherwise Anya’s likely to turn her into a clone of herself: vain and shallow.’

  ‘You’re a good father,’ I say. ‘Caleb’s the one I feel really sorry for.’

  Lee sighs. ‘At least he and Mabel get on well together.’ Then, changing the subject abruptly, he looks around and says, ‘Laura was right.’

  ‘Laura?’

  ‘About the clutter. But this is organised clutter. A well-feathered nest. You have an amazing eye for colour and detail.’

  ‘Thanks. My home is a bit sacred to me. It makes me feel steady when life gives me the wobbles. Talking of wobbles.’ I look at my watch. ‘I must go in a few minutes.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

  I am stunned. How I would love to strut up to Alec with a bloke like Lee on my arm. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. ‘Thanks Lee, I’d love to show Alec that I haven’t been abandoned by the entire male species. But I couldn’t do it to Mikey and Dan. Two shocks in one day wouldn’t be fair.’

  He looks almost disappointed, and my heart goes out to him. It’s a Sunday when, I imagine, normally he would have been at home with his wife and daughter. Now he has the bleak prospect of an empty house to return to.

  As though reading my thoughts, he says, ‘I’m going to take my bike out this afternoon and have a long ride. Exercise is the best distracter.’

  ‘If you’re riding past, you’re welcome to drop in.’

  He gives me a big grin.

  I look at my watch again and stand up. ‘Better go.’

  Outside I get a kiss on the cheek, a quick smile, then we drive off in our separate directions.

  Everyone arrives at the pool dead on time on Monday morning, knowing I’ll be full of Alec’s meeting with the boys. But I’ve made a decision to keep quiet about Lee’s visit, whether the news about Doug and Anya is around town yet or not. I don’t want things misinterpreted.

  Cate sticks her head round the changing room door before the barrage of questions has time to get started. ‘Something to tell you, girls, don’t go till I’ve seen you.’

  My immediate thought is that she’s pregnant. ‘Can’t you tell us now?’

  ‘No. Busy. See you after your swim.’ She disappears, and the girls look at me in anticipation.

  ‘It wasn’t as bad as I expected,’ I tell them. ‘My biggest worry was that saying goodbye to their father would regurgitate all the ugly feelings of abandonment. But they were really upbeat when I collected them, no trace of anger over what he’d done to them. Alec says he’s going to make it a regular thing. Once a month. Then maybe down the track the boys will go for a weekend at his place.’

  ‘And how do you feel about that?’ asks Laura.

  ‘I hate it course. I think he lost all entitlement to spend time with the boys when he chose to ignore them for so long. But that’s me being selfish, because if it works it’s going to be really good for Mikey and Dan.’

  ‘You’re very calm,’ says Laura.

  ‘Am I?’

  She’s circling me, suspicious. ‘Something else has happened. Something good. You’re too serene for Charlie who’s just seen the paedophile for the first time in four years.’

  I feel the dreaded blush starting, and turn my back to rummage through my bag for my cap and goggles. ‘My book,’ I say as I search. ‘I finally finished – a month ago actually.’

  The mood instantly brightens.

  ‘Well done!’

  ‘That’s great.’

  When the enthusiasm settles down, a note of reproach creeps in.

  ‘A month ago?’

  ‘You didn’t tell us.’

  ‘No. I wanted my editor to read it first. Make sure I’d hit the nail on the head.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She loved it. The boys and I get to eat for another year. Longer if it sells through Europe.’

  ‘What’s the title?’

  ‘Under the Kilt.’

  There is not a movement or sound from the girls.

  ‘Just kidding.’

  They laugh. Karen throws her goggles at me.

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Return from Teba.’

  ‘Are you still going to kill The Douglas off?’

  ‘I have to because that’s what happened. Antonia might be a figment of my imagination, but James Douglas was real and he died in his quest. I can’t change history.’

  ‘But won’t it need to have a happy ending?’

  ‘It does. Antonia meets another man on her journey back from Spain to Scotland. It is he who becomes the love of her life.’

  Laura nudges me. ‘What a time to meet a man. Burdened by the dead lover’s corpse, not to mention the rotting heart of Robert the Bruce tied round her neck.’

  ‘Embalming,’ I say. ‘Makes all the difference. And they are tastefully discreet. No consummation of their love until The Douglas is safely buried in the family vault at St Bride’s, and the heart of Bruce interred under the high altar of Melrose Abbey.’

  ‘So, she lives happily ever after?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘No wonder you have cause to look so happy,’ says Laura, but I fancy a glint of suspicion still lurks in her eyes.

  It’s a relief to dive into the concealing waters of the pool, to escape from the knowing eyes of my friends. Much longer in their company and they’d be squeezing the facts of Lee’s visit out of me. Just why I feel so reluctant to talk about Lee, I’m not sure. It’s not as though anything happened between the two of us beyond a subt
le feeling, an implication of a developing interest. When I think about Lee, there’s a magnetism I can’t deny, something exciting enough to be almost disturbing. But there’s also a feeling of calm whenever I’m with him. Always has been, when I come to think about it. He doesn’t rattle me. Quite the opposite. He has the effect of making the world seem a place where I very much like to be.

  Strange how Mikey and Dan declared they’d be happy about me having a boyfriend. A boyfriend. How bizarre. When I start thinking about the details of all that might entail, my breathlessness and aching arms make me realise I’m swimming flat out. At the end of the pool I stop to catch my breath.

  ‘You’re pushing it today, Charlie.’

  I lift my goggles to look up at Sean. ‘I am rather,’ I pant. ‘Think my arms need a break.’

  He chucks a kickboard at me. ‘Two hundred kick. That’ll sort you out.’

  Kicking at a more sedate pace, I start thinking about the possibility of embarking on an affair de coeur with Lee. How does one carry out such a thing when there are children at home? The idea of saying to Mikey and Dan, Hey, you guys keep watching The Simpsons, could you, Lee and I are off for a bit of a session, makes me shudder. There are moments, of course, when the boys aren’t home. There is school. There are sleepovers. There are parties. But the idea of luring Lee, or any man, into my boudoir at such designated times smacks of off-putting and repellent calculation. Not to mention lack of spontaneity. It’s interesting to note that I experienced no such meanderings of imagination as these when Doug was tapping on my door. The only conclusion I can draw is that there never was a fear of men, as Laura suspected, or dread of the concept of a relationship. It was a simple case of Doug being the wrong man.

  Finding Cate big with news when we return to the changing room is a welcome distraction. Though, from the bleak look on her face I know immediately that it is not a pregnancy.

  ‘I feel a bit responsible,’ she says, with her eyes on my face. Angry too. ‘I mean it was at my house, my party.’

  And I realise, of course, what it is she’s about to tell us.

  CHAPTER 24

  THE GIRLS ARE ALL solicitous of me, saying good, sustaining things, as though I have suffered a great blow or something.

  ‘Its okay,’ I tell them. ‘You don’t have to treat me gently. I wasn’t really interested in him, you know.’

  Karen gives me a kiss on the cheek. ‘That’s a relief.’

  ‘Well maybe a tiny bit in the beginning.’ I sit down, propping up my feet to dry between my toes.

  ‘He was very good-looking,’ says Wendy.

  ‘A bit too suave,’ says Laura.

  ‘He gets his teeth bleached and his hands manicured,’ says Cate.

  We all burst out laughing. ‘Now how do you know that?’

  ‘Well Pete’s his dentist, and my friend, Mandy, is a beautician down on the coast. She’s seen him at the salon. He gets his eyebrows waxed too.’

  ‘Good God,’ says Wendy.

  ‘Insecure,’ says Laura.

  ‘Does anyone know where the love birds have gone?’ asks Karen.

  I look up from my toe-drying. ‘To the city. I think Doug is going to run that office, Lee the one up here.’

  Four pairs of eyes fix on me.

  ‘You knew,’ says Karen.

  ‘I knew.’

  Laura, stark naked with her hands on her hips, says, ‘This is what you discovered at Cate’s party but felt unable to tell me about.’ The beginnings of her baby bump rob her of the authoritative look I know she’s striving for. It makes me want to smile.

  ‘Poor Lee,’ says Wendy. ‘He must be shattered. I’m astonished he’s willing to maintain any sort of partnership with the man. Even if it is only business.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think Lee’s a vengeful, hot-under-the collar type,’ I say. ‘And maybe, just maybe, he’s a tiny bit relieved.’

  I am drilled to the spot by four pairs of eyes.

  ‘Don’t,’ I say. ‘There is nothing and never will be anything between Lee and myself. I’m a happy independent woman, who doesn’t need a man. Not now. Not ever.’ I drag on my knickers and I’m still going. ‘I have the boys. They are yang to my yin. A perfect balance. Why would I want to upset the equilibrium of my life? Lose my freedom. Not be able to watch SeaChange?’

  Karen winks. ‘What do you think, girls? You know what they say, Methinks she doth protest too much …’

  Clearly they’re onto me, but I refuse to give them any satisfaction. Not yet.

  The next few mornings I am questioned by the girls. But luckily I’m able to look them in the eye in all conscience and tell them that I haven’t heard from Lee. Because I haven’t. I’m rather disappointed, though I don’t tell them that. Last Sunday he said, Can I call in again next week? Which is precisely what I’m counting on him to do.

  On Thursday Karen confesses that she’s invited Dominic to come up and have dinner with herself and her parents.

  ‘It’s not a romance,’ she insists, settling down our excited cries, ‘but I did feel good in his company the other night. It was kind of nice.’

  ‘Which you’re keen to repeat?’

  She smiles and reaches for her towel. Is that a hint of the long-dormant Mona Lisa?

  She says, ‘I think the fact that Adam knew Dominic for so many years, and that they were such good friends helps. It makes Dominic seem easier to trust. Though he did have a nickname …’ she adds, and her smile broadens into a wicked grin.

  ‘Well?’ says Wendy. ‘What was it?’

  ‘He’d be embarrassed if he knew that I knew.’

  ‘Out with it,’ I say.

  ‘It sort of rhymes with Dominic.’

  ‘Donkey-dick,’ shouts Laura, and we’re still giggling as we make our way out to the car park. Laura’s striding out in front, rushing to work, bag overflowing, and almost collides with a group of women hovering at the gate. It’s Elsa and the rebirthers.

  ‘Hi Elsa. You’re going for a swim?’ Laura asks them.

  Elsa shakes her head. ‘Swimming? No way. But we heard there are aqua-aerobic classes in the pool.’

  ‘There are,’ says Karen. ‘At least there used to be, but swimming’s much better exercise.’

  ‘I’m not much of a swimmer,’ Elsa tells us, and glances at her little group. ‘None of us are really.’

  ‘Neither were we,’ says Wendy. ‘A bit of effort, a bit of patience, a few kilometres under your belt and you’ll be fine.’

  Elsa looks more than doubtful. ‘But I’m not athletic like you ladies. I’ve done a bit of yoga in the past, but that’s it.’

  ‘Then you’re a few yoga classes ahead of where I was,’ I tell her. ‘Sean’s over there by the kiosk. Book in to stroke correction. You might surprise yourselves.’

  We watch them go, and there’s an unspoken sense of excitement in the air. Fresh recruits. I know we’re going to follow this through, not let them get bogged down in aqua-aerobics, intimidated by Sean, dependent on plastic milk bottles.

  As we walk out to the car park there’s a purposeful spring in my step. I’m visualising great clusters of women on the shores of the Lochiel Dam: a swelling tribe of Amazons. New issues to discuss, latent problems to resolve, more healing to accomplish. It’s another challenge. Our latest hurdle. We have apprentices.

  On Sunday morning Dan, Mikey and I are relaxing on the verandah, replete with breakfast, when there’s a knock on the door. Mikey, still in his pyjamas, jumps up. ‘I’ll go, Mum.’

  He’s back in a flash. ‘There’s a man here,’ he says, adding in a low voice, ‘he’s dressed pretty weirdly.’

  It is, of course, Lee in his cycling gear.

  We reheat a couple of the leftover sausages and return to the verandah, which is the only place to be on a warm January morning when the breeze is lifting off the edge of the mountain, fanning the humid air.

  The boys are fascinated to discover that a grown man shaves his legs, all in the name of sport. It’s
a great conversation opener. ‘Does it really make you go faster?’ asks Dan.

  ‘Sure does. But I don’t bother shaving all the time, only when I’m competing.’

  I spot both twins sneaking looks at their own not very hairy legs, contemplating the possibilities. School sports day is not so far away. Lee catches my eye and smiles.

  After a while the boys saunter off in their own unique way of seeming to agree on an activity without actually discussing it. Today I’m certain their unspoken conversation has been something along the lines of, We think Mum’s got a chance with this bloke, let’s leave them to it.

  When the computer room door clicks shut, Lee says, ‘They’re great kids, Charlie, you shouldn’t doubt your singleparenting skills.’

  Music to my ears – as it would be to any parent. ‘They have their moments. Like most kids, they can be angels one minute, devils the next. What about you, Lee, how are you coping?’

  ‘Very well,’ he says. ‘Almost happy.’

  ‘I suppose you did your grieving years ago when your troubles first cropped up.’

  He leans towards me and wraps one hand around my own. ‘I didn’t come here to discuss grieving, Charlie. We might not have long before Mikey and Dan reappear – and I want to ask you something. I know you’ll think I’m exhibiting indecent haste, or that I’m rebounding or desperate or hoping to punish Anya or some such thing. But I like you Charlie, I like you a lot. Always have. And I’m afraid to hang back and let a respectable amount of time slip by, in case some other bloke moves in on you. I know it’s a gamble, I know it’s a risk. I guess what I’m asking is that you believe me when I say I’m not here for any of those unworthy reasons.’

  I’m very conscious of his hand covering mine. It feels extraordinarily intimate. ‘There’s not much danger of others moving in on me,’ I say. ‘There’s been plenty of opportunity for that and the only one who bothered was very likely using me as a smoke screen for other activities.’

  He’s watching me, eyes smiling. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot of rubbish?’

  I nod, thinking of Laura, and wonder how long he’s going to hang onto my hand.

 

‹ Prev