by John Hanley
I focused all my energy, hoping to project a wave to support her but she was well beyond my reach now – a lonely, vulnerable figure. Yet I was close enough to see her rib cage expand as she drew in her final breath.
She started to bounce the board into vertical momentum. She waited for the up thrust then allowed the elasticity of the movement to launch her skywards. She must have gained two metres before she bent from her hips, straightened her legs, pointed her toes and started to rotate. She had finished the first somersault before she passed the end of the board again. My heart stopped as she missed it by an inch before completing the final rotation a fraction too late to get full extension. Her entry produced the sort of white water that Miko wanted from polo players not divers.
The crowd held its breath as she surfaced – all eyes on the judges. Seven, five point five, five point five, five point five, five point five and six. Not the highest scores of the afternoon by a long way. Saul shrugged. He hadn’t been able to make the calculation. Like us, he had been too focused on Rachel, who now floated on the surface, looking anxiously at Miko.
After an age, the PA system hissed into life. ‘Miss Vibert’s high tariff dive has scored a total of fifty-one points – an average of seventeen exactly.’
‘They’re level. Seventy-nine point three each.’ Half a dozen seagulls took flight at Saul’s shout. Several spectators turned towards him.
‘They’re level on ordinals as well,’ Joan added.
‘What?’
‘Positions, Jack. They each won three dives. ‘They would have come equal fourth in the last Olympics with those scores. That shows how accurate the judging is.’
After a long pause, during which the scorer’s pencil seemed to be doing some high tariff dives of its own, Brewster made the announcement. Saul had been correct – they had the same score. How ironic.
From the volume of the cheers, it was clear that the audience had made its own decision about the winner though and Rachel left the water and rushed to hug Miko. She turned towards us and waved. I wanted to hug her as well but I wasn’t sure that would be welcomed.
There was more discussion at the table before Brewster picked up the microphone again. ‘Under the rules of this competition, the trophy, if defended, will be retained by the current holder in the event of a tie. I therefore ask Miss Hayden-Brown to step forward to receive it from His Excellency.’
The silence was embarrassing, even the governor seemed hesitant but Caroline strode forward and relieved him of it. She had enough sense not to hold it aloft in triumph and hurried over to Kohler, who wrapped his arm around her. I felt no sense of jealousy – perhaps the green-eyed monster was dead, had sunk without trace to the bottom of the diving pit.
After the diving was over it was the turn of the water polo teams. The navy only had five players so Brewster invited Kohler and Cookie to play for them. I was still suspended so wouldn’t have a chance for another confrontation with my Dutch friend. I felt relieved so stayed in my seat and tried to relax.
The Jersey team was far too strong and, even though Kohler played very well up front, he didn’t get any real scoring chances. Nelson seemed to enjoy marking him though no blows were exchanged. Kohler looked far more comfortable as a forward. I wondered why he had chosen to play as a full back and mark me in the previous game.
After my swim and the diving, the rest of the afternoon was an anticlimax. There was some light relief when the tide, hurried by an increasing swell, started to slip over the pool walls earlier than expected. It tugged the pitch and goals backwards and sideways as it surged in and sucked out.
The two teams shook hands to the applause of the handful of spectators. Even Saul had slipped away and there was no sign of Miko.
Brewster was struggling with the trestle table and beckoned me over to help him. It was a bit like folding a deck chair and, unless you had the knack, it could frustrate you. He hadn’t but I had and was pleased to assist. We carried it back to his office. I felt he was going to say something but he just nodded his thanks and sat down at his typewriter.
On the way back to the pool side, I came face to face with Caroline. She was walking under the diving board, holding Kohler’s arm. She glared at me and hissed “bastard” as we passed. Kohler said something which made her laugh.
Devoid of a suitable response, I could only smoulder and move on to collect my kit. I needed to rehearse some “spontaneous” retorts in case we bumped into each other again.
Rachel and Joan were sitting on the wooden bench overlooking the diving area talking quietly. They stopped as I approached. Rachel smiled. I smiled back, very unsure of myself.
Rachel spoke first. ‘Well done, Jack. That was a fantastic race. We’re so proud of you –’
‘But I didn’t win.’
They both laughed.
Rachel patted the seat beside her. ‘Seven seconds faster than you’ve ever swum before, Jack. You can bet Miko’s already worked out a new training programme for you. Besides, the Dutchman is older and more experienced. You did so well.’
‘I thought you’d missed it.’
‘I almost did. There was a problem at home. But no, I saw everything. I managed to squeeze in next to your headmaster.’
‘It’s just that I didn’t see you,’ I said.
‘I went straight to the changing room after the result. Wow, that was so fast.’
I must have looked puzzled. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘It’s just that Saul said you weren’t here. He went to rescue you from your father and he had to bribe –’
‘How silly.’ She laughed. ‘Saul is such a liar. He knew I was here. He was playing games with you.’ She was giggling now.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘I’m just trying to imagine him arguing with my father. You’ve met him now. He allowed you a few seconds. How long do you think he’d give Saul?’
Yes, it was a funny picture. I picked up the rhythm of her laugh and, as it subsided, we locked eyes. She moved closer.
I wrapped her in my arms and whispered. ‘You looked so beautiful this afternoon, you made my heart sing. I just wanted to get on that board and hug you in front of everyone.’
She stayed close but stiff in my arms and whispered back, ‘Really. That’s interesting. Shame you didn’t.’
Joan stood and chuckled. ‘I’ll leave you two to mate in private.’
Rachel reached out and grabbed her arm. ‘No, stay. Jack and I aren’t going to embarrass you. Gosh, I feel exhausted. I don’t know about you but I’m still trembling.’ She did know. We both did. I was and she wasn’t. Instead, she seemed cool and in control. I felt that hollow feeling of loss again. ‘Miko thought the judges were too generous but I suppose it was entertaining. But enough about that. Let’s talk about Jack’s race.’
I started to protest but she spoke over me. ‘It was amazing to watch, Jack. I don’t suppose you could hear the crowd – they were in a frenzy. Miko almost exploded after your turn. What was exciting, though, was watching the judges. Brewster must have realised how fast you were going because he called all the backup timekeepers to him and told them to put their watches on you. I was watching you with one eye and the frantic activity around the finish with the other. Centenier Phillips was brandishing his gun as though he wanted to shoot someone.’
‘That would have been me, then.’ I felt like he had.
Joan touched my wrist. ‘I’ve got to go, Jack, but there’s something I want to ask you. Rachel has been telling me about your little water polo episode with the Dutchman on Sunday. Do you know any more about him?’
‘Why?’ Rachel and I spoke at the same time.
‘It’s odd, but I’m sure I’ve seen him before.’
‘He’s only been here since Friday. He’s a student on holiday with his uncle.’
Joan snorted. ‘Or so he says. There is something very familiar about him. I’ve been studying him, especially his swimming action. I couldn’t swear to it but I
think I saw him at the Schwimm Stadion – in Berlin, during the Olympics’
‘No wonder he beat me if he was good enough to be in the Dutch team.’
Joan hesitated. ‘No, if I’m right, he wasn’t in the Dutch team. He was a member of the 200 metre relay team. The German relay team.’
20
‘You klutz, Jack. For someone so bright, you act like a complete schmuck over girls. For fuck’s sake, can’t you see what’s happening?’
‘Stop swearing, Saul. Dress like a stupid gangster, if you must, but stop trying to act like one.’ I tapped his black homburg. ‘It’s not as if your “head is worth a hat.”’
With a flick of my wrist, I sent it sailing out over the terrace. It wobbled in the evening air, its flight disturbing the moths around the spotlight above Nelson’s table before plopping into his wife’s lap. She looked up in bewilderment before Nelson grabbed it from her, spun round to see where she was looking and prepared to launch it over the rails into the water.
‘No! Please Nelson!’ Saul screeched.
Nelson smiled and put it on his head. The crowd around his table cheered then took up the cue and started to plead with him, mimicking Saul’s South African accent.
‘Bastard.’ Saul turned on me. ‘What did you do that for?’
‘To shut you up. Keep your nose out. You know as much about girls as I do and don’t pretend otherwise and speak properly. You’re meant to be educated. So what was my reference?’
‘Head not worth a hat? As You Like It, you arse; Rosalind, and wouldn’t you just love to play Orlando?’ He leant closer to me and wrinkled his nose. ‘“This is the rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril.” What is that? Disinfectant?’
‘It’s Zizanie by Fragonard. Something Caroline gave me. It’s supposed to go well with evening wear.’
‘Stront vir breins. You let her choose your cologne as well. And you’re still wearing it. Poephol – you deserve each other.’
‘Well it’s better than smelling of old tobacco and rancid hair oil, like you.’
‘You don’t know my reference, do you?’
‘Fortunately, I didn’t have to swallow the complete works of the Bard as a punishment for my foul-mouthed behaviour in class. But, as you did, I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’
‘“A pox on you.” Any scholar would tell you its Falstaff from the Merry Wives of Windsor. Anyway, what’s wrong with my hair preparation? I’ll have you know that this is the best Brylcream you can get – straight from the vending machine outside the shop.’
‘I’ve heard that the machine is down to its last few pints and those have been there since last season.’ I couldn’t be angry with him for long but I had to try. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.’
‘Hah, I will eat with you, drink with you … but I’m not going to pick bones with you.’
I ignored his attempt to get the game going again. ‘Why did you lie to me about Rachel?’
‘Which particular lie was that?’
‘Rescuing her from her father and all that nonsense.’
‘That was a joke, you dummy. I wanted to see if you really cared.’
‘And?’
‘So, I was wrong. You do. But what about madam?’
‘You tell me. We’re not speaking.’
‘You chuck her in the harbour, she sees you cavorting with her rival. So, what did you expect?’
‘Well you’re not much bloody help.’
‘Tut, tut.’ Saul reached into the inside pocket of his white tuxedo to extract a silver cigarette case. He’d been flaunting his eccentricity for years, careless of what others thought. For all that, he was still my closest male friend but I was beginning to regret giving him the edited version of the episode with Rachel at the pool and my suspicion that Caroline had called the police. Yet who else could I confide in? I hadn’t mentioned Joan’s belief that Kohler was German, nor that Rachel had discovered she was part Jewish. He, of all people, would understand what that meant to her but I was sworn to secrecy. It was up to her to tell him, not me.
Tommy Arnold’s band started to play again and Saul watched in horror as Nelson took his hat for a dance. Soon it was being passed from couple to couple and I had to pull him back from running down the stairs to make an even bigger fool of himself by trying to retrieve it.
It was another spectacular summer’s evening, the merest breath of wind. As the warm glow from the west faded, the rich blue of the sky seemed to drain into the sea, sharpening the horizon to a knife-edge. Spotlights, which had sparkled in the pre-dusk light, now dazzled on the terraces. The party of officers and ratings from the destroyer, in their best uniforms, were mingling with the club members. Some of the younger females were flirting. Saul shared his thought that it wouldn’t be long before Wendy, the club “bicycle”, ushered one of the matelots up to the cabins to test her tyres.
We rested our arms on the railings, observing, but apart from, the ball below. Saul smoked in what he believed to be a sophisticated way while I coughed in his ear. How long before he brandished an ivory holder for his du Maurier fags I wondered. There was no sign of Caroline or Rachel.
I poked him in the ribs. ‘What’s the time?’
He clamped his half-smoked cigarette between his teeth and extracted a gold hunter watch from another inside pocket. He held it at chain’s length and angled it so that the floodlights above us illuminated the face.
‘Nearly ten o’clock’. He started to cough. His fag dropped from his mouth, bounced on his chest and deposited a column of grey ash, then landed on his shiny leather shoe.
I bit my lip.
He dusted himself down and nudged me. ‘Well, my prince, I think Cinderella’s just arrived.’
I looked towards the end of the bridge and spotted Rachel swishing through the gate in a long black evening dress with a full skirt. Her hair was coiled up and she was wearing short white gloves, which covered her wrists. She had a white shawl draped round her bare shoulders. What looked like my Saint Christopher on its silver chain nestled above her cleavage.
‘You’ll catch a few moths if you let your mouth hang open like that.’ Saul clapped me on the shoulder of my borrowed dinner jacket. ‘She does look stunning though. You wait here and catch the insects, I’m going to ask her to dance.’
Before I could react, he was racing down the steps. He rushed across the floor, recaptured his homburg from Nelson’s head and dashed towards Rachel. He skidded to a halt in front of her, his hat back on his head, and bowed, removing the homburg with a flourish.
I couldn’t hear their conversation but I could see her laughing and soon they were dancing. While I had focused my physical efforts on sports training, Saul had spent his time in the Plaza de Danse and now had all the moves. They looked good together and those miserable butterflies of jealousy were trapped in my stomach again. Rachel followed him with ease as the music changed into a quickstep and he spun her round the floor.
As Saul had predicted, Wendy clattered up the steps in her white high heels, a young seaman in tow, heading for the darkness of the upper crescent of cabins. I ignored her girlish giggles as her partner patted her ample buttocks but I was left with the image of the poor matelot riding downhill without brakes.
I waited until they’d found their berth then descended the steps quietly and stood in the shadows by the manager’s office, where I could watch the gyrations on the dance floor.
I looked around for Joan but couldn’t see her. She had told me that she thought she had some photographs of various swimmers from Berlin and would look through them to find Kohler. Perhaps she was mistaken.
The band changed the tempo into a waltz and couples started leaving the floor, including Saul and Rachel. They spotted me, manoeuvred their way through the tables and chairs, stopped at an empty one and called me over. I could no longer sulk in the shadows so I joined them.
‘You look stunning, Rachel, that’s a lovely dress.’ I wanted to say much m
ore, but not in front of Saul.
‘She made it herself, Jack. She’s very clever, and such a willing partner as well.’ He winked at me. ‘Come on, sit down and let’s have a drink.’ He signalled the nearest waiter, who ignored him. ‘Sod it. I’ll go and get them. What would you like, Rachel?’
She looked unsure. ‘Just a small glass of wine, please. Perhaps with some lemonade in it.’
‘Well, we all know what you want, Captain Virtuous.’ Saul marched off to fight for attention at the bar.
I looked at Rachel, soaking in her freshness, the warmth in her eyes. My stomach still churned. I knew Saul found her attractive but couldn’t believe that she could fall for his louche persona, cultivated from watching too many Hollywood films. However, if she saw beneath the contrived act, she might find him a fascinating and attractive young man. I realised that I didn’t want her to make that effort, so perhaps that was jealousy nibbling away inside.
‘You really do look fabulous tonight.’
‘Why thank you, sir, you don’t look so bad yourself – my compliments to your father’s tailor.’ She looked around to see if Saul was returning then leant across the table. ‘How much have you told him?’
‘Too much. He knows about our… swim but nothing else.’ I reached across to hold her hand.
She avoided my touch until she’d discarded her shawl and peeled off her glove. ‘No wonder he’s been cool.’ She sighed. ‘There’s so much to talk about, but not here.’
I felt the warmth through her fingertips and teased them with mine. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’
‘We can’t leave now. Saul will be back any moment.’
‘Okay, after the dance. I’ll tell him I’m walking you home.’
‘But he’s planning to invite people back to his place.’
‘Well tell him you have to get something before or –’