The Lido Girls

by Allie Burns

  ‘What a shame. She listens to you. Are you sure you can’t persuade her?’

  ‘I have tried, Sid. Her mind is made up.’

  ‘Such a waste. I wish I could have done more.’

  ‘We’ve all tried and we’ve all failed. What you did was very noble.’

  ‘What Jack did today, putting me in charge, that was noble too. I can hold my head up now.’

  ‘You always could, Sid.’

  ‘And what about you?’ He stepped back in and pulled the door closed.

  ‘Me? The girls and George wanted me here. I’d have been letting everyone down if I’d gone today.’

  ‘What about the fear? Is it still winning?’ he said.

  ‘A bit. But not as much as it was. Look at me, I’m a spinster again and I’m here now, aren’t I?’

  With Sid gone, she slipped out of her sandals and went out to the pool side. She pinched up her skirt and dipped her toes. It was as cold as a hockey field in January, perfect for a close day like today, just perfect.

  From a box that Sid had left out, she pulled out a length of bunting, a hammer, a box of tacks and then she began to pin the flags to the upper deck wall. It kept her away from the crowds and Jack, up on the high board, diving again and again, waiting for his moment.

  She checked the clock, 1:30 p.m. Soon her swimming demonstration would begin in earnest.

  *

  The storm was growing closer, bit by bit, as it moved along the coast. Sometimes it moved towards the shore, other times further away. It hadn’t drawn level with St Darlstone yet, but it promised to and when it did she hoped it stayed out at sea.

  Hatty had been right. The sticky weather wasn’t the only sign of nature at full force. It seemed that the barrel jellyfish washed up on the beach that morning had been scouts checking the territory for the rest of the swarm, who now clotted the sea’s surface. The hot weather – they said – had done it. The sea was almost as still as the air. The chalky-grey waves tantalisingly tickling the pebbles. The beach was dotted with washed-up masses that had shrivelled and dried in the sun; a warning to bathers of what awaited them. Nobody was in the sea.

  It was such a contrast to the tightly packed terraces behind her – a flotilla of deckchairs and towels. They were full. They’d closed the turnstiles, put a sign up at the entrance: Full house.

  At the base of the flagpole next to the diving tower she pulled the coarse rope through her hands. The Union flag drooping like a hangdog tail until it was above the parapet of the Lido walls and a light breeze teased it into life.

  Everything was in place; she just had to hope for the best. The Women’s League’s jazz musicians were already setting up on the top deck and the cafeteria was open.

  Jack was diving again and again, the crowd now clapping in time.

  ‘George!’

  He wrinkled his freckled nose and wiped his head where her kiss had landed.

  ‘Are you sure he isn’t going to look a fool?’ Yvonne whispered.

  ‘I heard that, Mother.’

  ‘You came back then?’ Jack appeared behind them. His bathing costume dark, droplets falling from his hair. The muscle flexed in his cheek.

  ‘The girls wanted me to, you did ask me to help too. Is it all right?’ He nodded his assent. She realised that his pensive look was because of the diving coach’s presence, not hers. ‘Try not to fret. You look confident and in control when you dive.’

  ‘Are you going to watch me?’ George interrupted.

  ‘Perhaps later,’ he pulled at his nose. She sent George off to the cafeteria to ask Hatty for a 99.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The coach has disappeared.’ Jack was right. The coach and his notebook were no longer on the terraces. ‘We definitely did see him, didn’t we?’

  ‘Don’t give up. He might be getting some chips.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘I tell you who is happy. Arthur! The Women’s League are going to do their demonstration here and bring the press photographers with them. He’s hoping St Darlstone might make it to the national press.’

  If he knew about the letter she’d hidden, he said nothing of it.

  ‘Have you been to see Delphi?’ she asked.

  ‘I did try. Mother and Father are staying with her today,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I thought about what you said, after you left I went and spoke with her, but I couldn’t persuade her to come and stay with me, wherever I end up.’

  ‘Perhaps we need to give her time.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  The seated dive

  Ideal for the novice to build confidence and to perfect head-first entry into the water. Remember to push up and away from the board and the water.

  While she’d been talking to Jack the storm had passed by far out to sea. Despite the signs, more and more people had piled into the Lido, jumping over the unmanned turnstiles. It was standing room only for George’s display.

  Betsy was having a great time. She posed for the Gazette’s photographer in her peach-coloured swimsuit.

  ‘Oh, this is so embarrassing,’ she purred, not for one moment taking her eyes from the lens.

  George helped to line up the local children for the diving lessons just as Arthur emerged from the covered walkway.

  ‘I hope you’re not off travelling, are you?’ he asked, nodding to the sole of the foot Natalie was itching manically. ‘I want you to organise the girls for the Miss St Darlstone contest. I’ll have a nervous breakdown if I have to deal with them.’

  He breathed deeply and looked around him, taking it all in. Natalie held her breath.

  ‘What the hell… Betsy!’ So rapt in her poses for the photographer she hadn’t noticed Arthur. Everyone else had. He clutched his heart, took a step back, as he made a terrible high-pitched whine. He took a moment to gather his composure. ‘Betsy…’ but as he watched her his shock dissolved ‘…look at her.’

  Betsy’s hands dropped from her hips, the smile from her face. Even her eyelids drooped in shame.

  ‘Betsy, my sweetheart. You, you…what’s happened to you?’ He lifted her up from the ground and swung her around, her heels flailing about on the end of her short legs. ‘That does it. I want to get changed too. If my wife can look that smashing in a bathing suit then so can I.’

  Natalie and Betsy exchanged a look. He needed to come to one of their classes.

  ‘We’ve a swimming race coming up,’ she replied. ‘St Darlstone against the rest of the world. Are you in? There’s a spare bathing suit hanging up in the end changing room.’

  ‘Count me in.’ Arthur bounced off.

  Now, it was George’s moment. The lifeguards had cleared the pool and she pointed so that the audience looked at him up on the ten-foot diving board. His little birdcage of a chest puffed up. He was wearing a brand new bathing suit and a rubber cap fastened beneath his chin.

  ‘Now don’t be nerv…’

  ‘Miss Flacker has taught me to swim AND dive,’ he shouted. His voice didn’t travel far.

  In his distracted hunt for the diving coach, it looked as though Jack had forgotten about George’s display. They could do with him there. George only ever seemed to dive perfectly when Jack put the pressure on him to do so. He’d never live it down if he bellyflopped in front of the local children gathered around the pool.

  ‘Let’s do this together, shall we?’ she suggested, itching the soles of her feet.

  ‘So, boys and girls. We begin the dive by curling our toes over the edge of the board.’ George shuffled forwards with her close behind him. She could hear him breathe fast and shallow.

  ‘I’ll be right behind you,’ she whispered.

  ‘Lift your arms above your head.’

  Obediently he demonstrated, stretching his twig-like arms as if he were reaching for the sun.

  ‘Remember to keep your mouth shut,’ she said, more for George’s benefit than the children gathered around the sides of the board to wat
ch.

  ‘Notice how George will jump up into the air, not down.’

  ‘It’s now or never, Miss F…’

  The board twanged. Little George sprung up and in perfect position he swept into the water like a mouse under a rug. As he surfaced she followed him in quickly in case the nerves got to him and he struggled to swim. But there was no need; it was all instinct now. He was treading water calmly all by himself.

  ‘Good dive, Miss Flacker!’ He winked.

  Yvonne wolf-whistled at her son.

  ‘You little rascal.’ She laughed.

  Once she and George had clambered out, they gave each boy and girl in the line a turn, instructing each one of them to make a seated dive. But a man in the front row broke the spell with a throaty laugh as Arthur’s immense form and chalk-white legs emerged in a striped bathing suit stretched to its limits. If only Delphi could see this.

  ‘Wonderful to see the young ones diving, Natalie my dear.’ Prunella had arrived. ‘This is wonderful.’ She opened her arms and hugged her like an old friend. Even in bare feet, Natalie towered over her and Prunella felt so delicate in Natalie’s embrace. Now Natalie had to fight to keep her breath under control and to tell her heart to stop beating quite so fast. She was talking too quickly, trying too hard to please as, like a machine gun, she told Prunella about the microphone and the podium Sid had set up beside the jazz band. ‘I’m sorry there’s such a packed agenda. It’s a big day for St Darlstone, for the Lido.’

  ‘Don’t you worry. That’s what teamwork is all about. We’ll fit right in. Especially since our encounter inspired me to add a touch more discipline and to formulate a plan for our demonstrations.’

  Prunella, her ladies following behind her, skipped up the steps to the top deck and began to warm up. Just fifteen minutes left, but first they had the main event: the final bathing belles heat. They were about to crown Miss St Darlstone 1935.

  *

  It was subdued in the underground car park. Toots had separated herself from the other contestants and with her brimmed topper pulled low over one eye, marched alone up the central strip of concrete. She practised her walk, her feet each landing on a centre point in front of her. One hand on her hip, she turned and walked back. Then she stopped, held out her hand, shook the air, laughed silently and clapped a hand to her chest, looked to the heavens, which in this case was a concrete ceiling.

  ‘Madame thinks she’s already won.’ Miss Lovely Calves and Ankles shook her hair loose from her shoulders.

  ‘How are you feeling, Miss Lovely Hair?’ Natalie asked.

  Yvonne was leaning in to a car window’s reflection, adjusting the single red wave that curled on to her forehead. A stunning marcasite clip fastened her mane into her nape on one side, so that it spilled on to the opposite shoulder.

  ‘Do you think it is enough to impress Cornelia?’

  Natalie nodded. She couldn’t see how Cornelia wouldn’t be bowled over by Yvonne’s talents. She’d have her clothes out of hock in no time.

  Yvonne lifted up Natalie’s attempt at a wave and let it drop.

  ‘You are going to be my first customer – complimentary.’

  ‘Are you all ready?’ Natalie stood on the steps and clapped her hands. These ladies all knew the drill and lined up behind Toots. They all seemed to have accepted that she would be the deserving winner and that they were making up the numbers.

  ‘Before we go, I must apologise.’ Toots turned to Yvonne. ‘I said some dreadful things to you, darling. I was worried that I wouldn’t make it here to the final today, that I’d miss the chance of being spotted.’

  ‘Is all right,’ Yvonne said graciously, ‘you are per-haps not a…’ She pushed up the end of her nose. ‘You are ambitious. I understand this. I think we can be friends.’

  ‘And you, my dear, are a very talented hairstylist. And your veins really seem much improved.’

  Arthur’s voice boomed from the speakers. He will be on the podium in his bathers. Natalie smirked. The drum rolled.

  ‘Off we go then. The best of British to you all.’

  ‘Oh I don’t want this summer to end,’ Barnie – Miss Style and Grace – cried out, bringing them all to a halt. ‘It’s been the first time since becoming a mother that I’ve done something for myself: the movement classes, the wafting, the contests. I don’t know how I’m going to live without it all.’

  ‘Oh you English, you are so overdramatic about everything.’ Yvonne shook her head.

  They all laughed at that.

  ‘Come on then, girls,’ Natalie said, ‘it’s your moment. Enjoy it.’

  *

  ‘Sid,’ she called, wrapping a towel around her body, straight out of the water from another swimming demonstration. ‘Can you take over for a minute? Keep the band playing and the races going. People are leaving now the beauty contest is over. Encourage them to stay. There’s more to see. I’ll be back in ten minutes. In time for the demonstration.’

  She didn’t have time to change into a dry bathing suit; instead she clanked the exit turnstile and with her hair flattened and a wet towel wrapped around her shoulders, and nothing on her feet, she dashed along the seafront.

  *

  A river of holidaymakers flowed through the Palm Court’s revolving door, the brass luggage trolleys all full, suitcases and hatboxes spilling on to the marble floor. The cacophony drowned out the piano as the new arrivals crowded around the concierge desk five deep.

  ‘Excuse me, miss,’ the concierge called after her as she padded past the reception desk enjoying the cool marble floor on her itchy soles.

  The bridge room by contrast was quiet. Windows were shut and the curtains pulled across, the room full but hushed with the pillbox-hatted, white-haired card players intent on their games. Their sallow complexions suggested their idea of a good time was a long way from the sun-worshipping younger generation.

  Delphi’s parents sat at a table in the far corner of the room.

  ‘Good God. I’ve seen it all now.’ Mrs Mulberry folded her cards to the green felt and buried her head in her hands at the sight of Natalie’s damp hair and the towel draped across her shoulders, her bare legs out on display. ‘Please leave immediately. This is unacceptable.’

  Pipe smoke shrouded Mr Mulberry to make him look like a mellow dragon.

  ‘Where is Delphi?’ she asked.

  Mr Mulberry took the pipe from his mouth. ‘I hope you’ve had an attack of conscience and have come here to apologise for the way you spoke to us.’

  ‘I don’t think many girls would speak to their prospective mother-in-laws as you did with me.’ Mrs Mulberry shifted about on her seat, the elongated American vowels creeping into her indignant tone.

  Natalie took a moment. ‘I am very sorry,’ she said gently.

  ‘Good, good. Now if you wouldn’t mind, you’re causing a scene.’

  ‘Also,’ Natalie continued, ‘as you know Jack hopes to go to Germany to train for the Olympics once the bathing pool closes for the summer. If he gets selected, I shan’t be going with him.’

  ‘Is that so? On reflection that’s perhaps for the best.’

  ‘Secondly, I’ve come for Delphi. Where is she?’

  ‘She’s taking a lie-down,’ Mrs Mulberry said. ‘She felt unwell.’

  ‘Can’t you see that she is unhappy in London?’

  ‘Now see here…’ Mr Mulberry sat up in his chair, his paunch pushing against the table. ‘Can’t you see that we’re in the midst of a game of Honeymoon Bridge?’

  ‘If you recall,’ Mrs Mulberry cut across her husband, ‘she came to us of her own volition. I asked her what she wanted to do, and she chose her family, now she’s realised that we do actually keep her safe.’

  ‘Oh,’ Mr Mulberry slapped the table, ‘if you won’t go, then do sit down, girl, will you.’ Natalie, noticing that the concierge was talking to the manager and pointing at her, did as she was told and placed her damp towelled behind on the crimson velvet seat cushion. ‘Just like yo
u, we have her best interests at heart.’

  ‘I know you do, but you are a little unkind about her condition,’ Natalie said, putting it as mildly as she could. ‘It isn’t her fault after all, any more than it is yours. And you are right, you do keep her safe. But I have a suggestion.’ Natalie leant in. ‘I know it isn’t conventional but…’

  A white-haired lady at the next table had lifted her eyes from her cards. Natalie thought of lowering her voice, and then carried on. ‘You did say a while ago that you would approve if Delphi and I were to live together.’ The woman looked down at her cards in a hurry. Mr and Mrs Mulberry said nothing at all, their expressions blank. Natalie pressed on. ‘I understand her illness and more importantly I understand her. I know I have made a mess of things since you put her in my care, but that was because I was too afraid to say aloud what I am saying now. I can take care of her and she me. She is so dear to me and I love her mind, her humour. Well, I love her. I love her. As a friend, you understand.’ She’d made herself breathless and now that she’d said all that out loud, she felt quite sick.

  Mrs Mulberry folded her scoring notebook back up. ‘Well I never. My daughter’s friend is a bohemian. I didn’t see that coming, did you?’ she asked Mr Mulberry, who raised his eyebrows to heaven. ‘You have let Delphi down this summer; you’ve led Jack on a merry dance to boot, but all in all you are a steady influence and you’re well intentioned. But tell me, how will you live? Are we to pay for this? Have you thought of these things?’

  Every person that walked past turned to look her over in her towel and bathers. She would cut them dead with a glare but she didn’t need to; Mrs Mulberry was doing it on her behalf.

  ‘I will need to put my training to good use, as will Delphi. As you know we have a shared interest. This summer, the two of us have combined forces and we’ve had splendid results. If you came today – if she came today, to the Lido – you could see for yourselves. Your new Fitness Council, Mr Mulberry, might be interested in the League’s work to build a stronger Empire from the roots up.’