I was still over the moon about the new arrangement. Mr Knight couldn’t object and didn’t and the Moris agreed that although they had ‘adopted’ Dave, he was to stay with me in our house. When they were away, I’d go up and look after their cats in their apartment. Sorted. It wasn’t going to be a big deal because they had a housekeeper there to feed them. My job was to go up and give them some love and attention. No problem. It was a job I was looking forward to.
‘Let’s go,’ called Gran, from downstairs. She and Aunt Maddie were taking me to the pool as Dad was having to work, but he’d promised he’d be there in time for my race.
I threw my swimming things in a bag and looked in the mirror. I took a deep breath. ‘Right. Let’s do it,’ I said to my reflection.
The event was being held at the local swimming pool. My race wasn’t until later so I took a seat to watch in the benches alongside Aunt Maddie, Gran, Pia and Charlie. Eight schools had made it to the finals and we watched the first contenders nervously pacing the side of the pool, ready for the first event which was a synchronised swim. When they hit the water, it looked like mayhem as twenty-four swimmers sploshed about doing their loosening-up exercises. On the whistle, they took their places then struck out together, every stroke, kick and wave in harmony. With hardly a ripple, they formed a flower pattern and I watched with admiration as the petals opened and closed in perfect time with the music.
‘When’s your race?’ asked Charlie.
‘Last,’ I said. ‘They always have the girls’ front crawl last.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Charlie. ‘You’ve put in the work and you’re going to win.’
‘I might do, but whether our school wins depends on the collective score,’ I said. ‘One of our best swimmers pulled a muscle so our chances in the third race aren’t so strong.’
After the synchronised swimming, I watched as the lanes in the pool were sectioned off with bright red ropes and the competitors lined up for the breaststroke. That was my cue to go and get ready. Everyone in the changing rooms was hyped up and talking about who we were up against – it appeared that Red Lodge High and Raynes Hill were our main competitors.
‘Stay calm, stay focused and above all, remember your breathing,’ Mr Bennie said as we trooped out after him to take our places on the competitors’ benches. The breaststroke final was over and the swimmers for the backstroke were already in the water. The whistle blew and they were off. I glanced up to look for my crowd of supporters and saw that Tom, Flo and Meg had arrived and, to my delight, sitting next to them were Alisha and JJ, with Sergei on the bench behind. Ohmigod, I thought as a flood of panic hit me. I was OK swimming in front of others on the team but performing in public was starting to do my head in. There was still no sign of Dad, though. I felt so disappointed that he hadn’t shown yet. He knew how important it was to me. He’d been making such an effort to spend more time with Charlie and me lately and I so wished he was here.
I felt as if an icy hand had gripped my stomach. ‘Sir, I need the bathroom,’ I said. Mr Bennie gave me a nod and as I dashed to the loo, I tried to keep breathing correctly but found I could hardly breathe at all. I returned to the benches minutes later to hear an ear-splitting roar as Raynes Hill won the last race. I glanced at the scoreboard. Red Lodge were in the lead with twenty-four points, Raynes Hill second, our school, West Bailey High, a miserable third. The knot in my stomach grew even tighter.
Mr Bennie saw me looking at the results. ‘We’re all depending on you now, Jess.’
‘No pressure, then,’ I said.
‘You can do it,’ Mr Bennie said, with a confidence I wish I shared.
‘Mmf,’ I said. My legs felt like jelly, my stomach was churning and I felt like I was going to throw up at any moment. I had a feeling the display the audience was going to get was of the technicolour chunder variety. I can’t do it, I thought. I put my hands up to my temples and pressed hard. Shut up, shut up, I told myself. Relax, breathe – oh God, I need the loo again.
I watched the rest of the races in a daze. Our team was holding its own and then, in the butterfly final, our captain, Hayley Johnson, surged ahead. The scoreboard showed that we were equal with Red Lodge with one hundred and thirty-five points. Suddenly it was time for my race. Mr Bennie called me forward.
‘We can still do it, Jess. The record for the crawl is sixty-seven seconds. You’ve done it in sixty-four in practice. If you can win the race and beat the record, we’ll get double score, ten points and we’ll be top school. So, clear your mind, forget where you are and go for it.’
I wobbled to my feet. ‘I can’t even walk, never mind swim.’
‘Positive thinking, Hall, positive thinking!’ said Mr Bennie.
‘What? Like sink or swim?’
Mr Bennie chuckled. ‘Something like that.’
I did a weak thumbs up and took my place on the starting block. Last year, even though Mum had been unwell, she’d insisted on being there – as she had been for every swimming contest I’d ever entered. An image of her last appearance amongst the spectators flashed through my mind. She’d been wearing one of her mad caps – a yellow one with great blue plastic flowers stuck on the side of it. She’d made Charlie wear one too and he’d been so embarrassed. For luck, she’d said, and, Never forget it’s supposed to be fun.
I stretched and steadied my breathing. I felt such a longing for Mum, for a hug from her to see me through. But she wasn’t there – and nor was Dad. I’d just have to do it by myself.
I sneaked a last look at my group of family and friends to see if Dad had made it. I. Could. Not. Believe. It. Charlie was waving like mad and looking very pleased with himself. He, Pia, Meg and Flo were all wearing yellow bathing caps with blue flowers stuck on the side – even Tom, Alisha and JJ were wearing them! I quickly scanned the crowd for Dad and, double phew, there he was, pushing his way along the row, trying to find his seat before the race started. He saw me looking, grinned and waved. Charlie handed him a yellow cap too and I couldn’t help but smile as Dad pulled it on to his head. I was so glad he’d made it. I knew he had to work hard, but he was trying to be a good dad too.
And suddenly I forgot about everyone else, the crowd watching, the number of points I had to achieve. I’m going to swim for you, Mum, I thought. I’m going to make you proud.
The whistle blew and I dived in. I imagined Mum at the end of the pool, as she had been so many times before when I was little and just learning. I remembered her urging me on, telling me I could do it as I sank and paddled, gasping for breath. In a flash, I realised she lived on in me, she would always be there and nothing could ever take her memory away. I could feel her urging me on, not just in the race but in my whole life, her voice saying, ‘You can do it, Jess. You can.’
My legs had never felt more powerful, my arms tore through the water, stroke after stroke after stroke. At the turn, I saw a flash of a red costume in the lane next to me and knew it was just me and a girl from Red Lodge. ‘You can do it,’ urged Mum’s voice in my head. Seconds later, I touched the pool edge and it was all over. I pulled myself out of the water to see the girl from Red Lodge still a fraction behind me. I heard a cheer that almost lifted the roof and, seconds later, I was being mobbed by my team-mates.
‘You did it, Jess!’ said Hayley. ‘You did it! Sixty-three seconds!’
I’d beaten the inter-school record and my own. I glanced up at the board to see the electronic numbers flicker and change.
West Bailey High: 145 points.
Red Lodge High: 139 points.
We’d won.
Our team dashed back to the changing rooms to grab our robes and then back out for the prize-giving.
A fanfare of trumpets burst out from the PA and a man’s voice said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to announce the final result in the Inter-school Swimming Challenge Shield. After an exceptional competition day, in third place, we have Raynes Hill.’ There were cheers from the crowd as their swimming te
am went forward to receive their medals. After them, second place was announced to Red Lodge High.
And then it was our turn and, to deafening applause and the stamping of feet, we made our way to the podium at the top of the baths to receive the shield. Mr Bennie stepped forward to take it from the mayor, then handed it to me. I waved it at the crowd and then handed it to Hayley. I knew she’d done her best, too. She held it aloft and the crowd cheered again.
The judges then moved on to the special commendations.
Barry Humphrey for the backstroke.
Steve Thomas for the butterfly stroke.
Jane Kennedy for breaststroke.
‘And now our crawl champion for the second year running, Jessica Hall,’ said the mayor and he beckoned me forward. I took a deep breath, stepped forward and took my medal and sash from him, then glanced up at my crowd. I burst out laughing. They were still wearing the swimming caps and jumping up and down like idiots. I felt a lump come to my throat. Mum wasn’t there this time but Dad was, and maybe, just maybe, she was looking down on us all from somewhere. If she was, I knew that she’d be wearing a mad cap too. Maybe one with wings on, instead of flowers.
As the crowd began to disperse and the swimmers made their way back to the changing rooms, Alisha and JJ suddenly appeared at the poolside, waving frantically.
‘Jess, over here. We have something for you,’ JJ called, as they were joined by Pia, Meg, Flo, Charlie and Tom.
I turned back and went over to them.
Alisha handed her bag to JJ. ‘I think you should do the honours, bro,’ she said.
‘Love to,’ said JJ, and he pulled a sparkling tiara out of Alisha’s bag. He stepped forward, made a low bow then put the crown on my head.
‘I now pronounce you . . . er, what shall we call you? I know – barefoot princess,’ he said, then leant forward, kissed my cheek and gave me a hug. ‘Congratulations, swimming pardner.’
Behind him, Meg, Flo, Pia and Charlie curtseyed, and Pia raised an eyebrow at me, which I ignored. I noticed that Tom didn’t curtsey. He was looking at JJ with a quizzical expression. I’m not going to worry about this now, I decided. It was too good a moment to ruin and it wasn’t as if anything had exactly happened between myself and JJ, at least nothing for Tom to be jealous of. It wasn’t as if he and I were even a real couple. Boys. Who knew what they were about? All I knew was that today wasn’t the day to worry about it. If either of them were serious, no doubt it would become clear in the future. In the meantime, I was going to enjoy the attention. I’d just been crowned a princess!
‘Liked the bathing caps, Chaz,’ I said.
‘Mum would have expected it,’ he said. ‘She’d have been so proud of you, Jess.’ I knew he understood exactly.
It doesn’t get any better than this, I thought as I looked at all my mates standing there.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘For being here and for looking like such complete idiots. You’re mates in a million.’
Pia grinned and pointed at Alisha and JJ. ‘They really are,’ she said. ‘Million dollar mates.’
I shrugged and linked arms with her and Alisha. ‘Same thing to me. Mates. That’s the bit that counts.’
If you enjoyed Million Dollar Mates,
look out for the sequel, Paparazzi Princess,
coming soon!
It’s the end of term and Jess is excited about all the new faces due to arrive at Number 1, Porchester Park for the holidays. Outside the apartment block, the usual paparazzi lie in wait hoping for a story or photo. Jess knows she should avoid them, and when new resident Riko arrives, they enjoy dodging the cameras together. But is Riko all she appears to be – or is this million dollar mate a fake?
Distracted by two boys: handsome A-lister JJ and school babe magnet Tom – neither of whom are making their intentions totally clear – Jess is finding it really hard to know who to trust right now.
And getting it wrong could prove to be a costly mistake . . .
About the Author
Cathy Hopkins lives in Bath, England with her husband and three cats, Dixie, Georgia and Otis. Cathy has been writing since 1986 and started writing teenage fiction in 2000. She spends most of her time in her writing turret pretending to write books but is actually in there listening to music, hippie dancing and checking her facebook page. So far Cathy has had fifty three books published, some of which are available in thirty three languages.
She is looking for the answers to why we’re here, where we’ve come from and what it’s all about. She is also looking for the perfect hairdresser. Apart from that, Cathy has joined the gym and spends more time than is good for her making up excuses as to why she hasn’t got time to go. You can visit her on Facebook, or at www.cathyhopkins.com
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