Skinny Dipping

by Kaye, Alicia M

  “Oh I must make time.” Sophie suddenly felt the need to justify it. “You see, Matthew Silver would be absolutely appalled if I didn’t learn how to swim considering I personally developed his ‘Swimming is for Living’ campaign.”

  Jessica was sceptical. “When are you going?”

  “We’ve postponed until next week, Thursday.”

  “Okay, you can have this particular package of sporting equipment. What time are you tearing yourself from your desk?”

  “The lesson starts at eight o’clock, so I have to leave by seven,” Sophie said quietly.

  “I want you to send me video footage of the first dip or I’m not delivering you any more mail. I’m returning it all to sender.”

  “You can’t do that. I get work mail sent here.”

  “Oh, but I can. I may be the lowest pleb in the office, but I’m also custodian of the mail.” Jessica gave Sophie a menacing look, wicked, pure evil.

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t I? You know Sophie, if you gave me a little bit of advertising work so I could get some experience I might not be so caught up in other people’s mail.” Jessica flopped back into her chair, shaking her head. “Think how I, a student of advertising can help you. Let me help you.”

  Sophie nodded, she’d heard Jessica’s pitch before. “Help me to help you,” Jessica repeated. She wanted to help on campaigns. But Sophie would have to teach her, and time was important. “And Sophie, you need my help, so you can find some work-life balance. You got chucked because you have no time. You don’t want to be spinster Sophie do you?”

  Sophie felt her face flush. She got chucked because Derek cheated. She quickly snatched the items together from Jessica’s desk, placing them back in the cardboard box. With the box to her chest she turned away.

  “Francine, are you still there?” Jessica’s voice sang through the office as she picked up the telephone.

  Sophie carried the box to her desk. Sitting behind the computer, she looked at the cardboard box with distain. She noticed an envelope in the package, and wrinkled her nose like the envelope smelt like garbage instead of the new plastic smell from the kickboard.

  Jessica’s words had gotten to her. She was single. Spinster Sophie. She’d even lost Derek, he’d strayed, he’d cheated. Was it because of her work? She’d simply thought Derek was being a controlling arse.

  Sophie pushed the thoughts aside, she didn’t need an envelope to know who the package was from. She removed the handwritten note:

  “Dear Miss Sophie Mermaid Smart,

  Just a quick note to wish you well. Good luck for the pending introduction into the water. You may want to have a go at trying these things on before the lesson.

  Cheers,

  Mr. Matthew Dolphin Silver.”

  “Mr Matthew Dolphin Silver? How old is he?” she muttered, words barely audible as she read the note. “A dolphin. Really? A dolphin?” Yes, he mentioned his favourite animal was a dolphin. Dolphin made sense. Dolphins were friendly to humans but when they came to the water, he was more like a sea anemone, attractive and pleasing to the eye, but get too close and he’d sting you with a lovely but scary offer of swimming lessons. Would she regret them?

  Or was he more like a dangerous barracuda, lean, long, and a hunting machine. Hunting every poor person with a fear of the water. Didn’t he get it, she was traumatized!

  Or maybe he was a moray eel pouncing and snaring prey with toothy jaws. Getting remiss girls in the water because he was simply a perve. That was always a possibility. After all, she now knew she couldn’t trust guys. Couldn’t take them on their word.

  The gift was not cute, or nice. Although she knew it was. The more she thought about the gift, the sweeter he seemed, like he’d given her an olive branch, knowing she would secretly hate him because he’d kindly offered her a way to learn how to save her own life, and save herself from the water. The olive branch was in the shape of a kick board, swimming cap and goggles. But she was allergic to olives.

  She opened her email. Manners were important in life. Grinding her teeth, she didn’t feel at all thankful, nor did she want to be polite.

  From: Sophie.Smart@ClarksAdvertisingAgency

  Sent: 15 October 2007 09:35

  To: Matthew.Silver@SilverSwimmingChain

  Subject: Thanks

  Dear Dangerous Sea Urchin,

  They say to beware of your type, and I should be scared, very scared. And I am. The kickboard, bathing cap, and goggles have all been packaged up into a very thoughtful gesture.

  Perhaps to help with my forever churning stomach whenever I go near the water? I must confess I feel caught in a rip (mind the pun). But thank you, all the same.

  I’m not sure what I can do with all this apparatus unless I’m in the pool?

  Your Land Loving Creature

  Jessica’s words were going through her mind. Did she really work too hard? Were her priorities all wrong? What was important to her? Family, she supposed. Family was always important to her. However, for some reason or other, she didn’t seem to go and visit very often.

  She picked up the phone, thinking about whether to call her Dad. She’d been avoiding his phone calls since the split with Derek. She needed to be honest with them, at least give them a heads up.

  With the phone in her hand Sophie recollected that even her mother had tried to call her over the weekend when she was shopping.

  “Sophie,” her Mum said, picking up on the first ring. “I just knew you would call when you had a chance.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Well, nothing, it’s just nice to hear from you every now and then.”

  “Thanks Mum. Um..., there’s something I need to talk to you about.” This was it, time to face the truth, tell them she and Derek were over.

  Her mother shrieked on the other side of the phone. “It’s happened hasn’t it? It’s finally happened. You’re engaged. To Derek.”

  Sophie gasped. “No.” She had the direct opposite news to tell.

  “Oh honey, what else could it be? You’re not…um, pregnant dear?”

  Sophie sighed. “No Mum.” She already felt irritated. “There is no engagement, and no pregnancy. It will never happen between me and Derek.”

  “Why’s that? You two are perfect for each other and you turning thirty in a year, worse things could happen then getting pregnant.”

  “Because.” Should she tell her, explain about what he had asked of her? Her heart constricted. “It all started with Jamie Oliver.”

  “Jamie Oliver? Whatever are you talking about?”

  “I have this collection of Jamie Oliver cookbooks you see.”

  “But you don’t cook Sophie.”

  “I just made a Jamie Oliver minestrone thank you very much.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it. Try to make him happy. Maybe you could try a little harder in your relationship. Try reading the recipes and not just looking at the pictures.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Couples fight. Did you want me to talk to him sweetie? Put in a word for you. I know all your best attributes. Cooking just isn’t your skill, Jamie Oliver, indeed.”

  “Mum,” Sophie exclaimed. Her mother probably preferred talking to Derek rather than her.

  “I’ve got his number I’ll call him now.”

  “No.” Could she be any clearer than that? “No. Definitely not. Do not call him. I’ve got enough issues with Derek.”

  “Oh Sophie, well whatever is going on with the two of you, patch it up, he’s a handsome one, that one. A keeper.” Obviously not enough of a keeper to wait a millisecond before he got together with gorgeous fucking Georgina.

  “Oh Mum, got to go, got something important from a client.” It was true, a message flicked to her screen. The sea urchin responded to her email. Very quickly, too. That was interesting. She was finally getting timely responses from Matthew Silver. Ha-ha! Progress at least from someone in the male population.

  From: M
atthew.Silver@SilverSwimmingChain

  Sent: 15 October 2007 10:39

  To: Sophie.Smart@ClarksAdvertisingAgency

  Subject: Re Thanks

  Dear Miss Sophie Mermaid Smart,

  There are very few mermaids who are land-loving creatures, and you must clearly be the rare kind with no problems finding your feet. Together, we’ll help you find your tail, so you can splash around in the water without a care in the world.

  Before any attempt in finding your mermaid tail, like visiting the pool for a tail-finding swimming lesson with a dolphin, I would recommend you sit in your bathtub (in your brand new swimsuit if it helps).

  Fill the tub halfway up with water, wearing both bathing cap and goggles.

  Once you feel comfortable in this position, place your head face down in the water and blow a series of bubbles out of your mouth (still while wearing all this apparatus).

  Count ten seconds and lift your head back up out of the water. Repeat this exercise a few times.

  If you find the idea of a bathtub quite off-putting, consider wearing the apparatus in the shower.

  Yours truly,

  Mr. Mathew Dolphin Silver

  P.S. Did you know that the clown fish is a close friend of the sea anemone, and is able to swim close without getting stung?

  ***

  Sophie left work earlier than usual, deflated by the thought of being spinster Sophie. She struggled to keep her inner strength, her resolve. Holding a printout of Matthew’s instructions she ran the bathtub, sitting in the water as it filled up, in an almost claustrophobic manner. Should she trust his cryptic dolphin and mermaid directions? Surely he was only trying to be funny and she could rely on his decent nature?

  She felt a small amount of scepticism in the bottom of her belly. She wore her swimmers, bathing cap, and goggles. The gear felt stifling, restrictive. Surely all this couldn’t help? She got in the tub and sat down. Was she really going to put her head in the water and blow bubbles?

  A knock sounded on the bathroom door. Hooray, a rescue party. The thought of choking in the water forced her out of the tub. Any swimming practise she’d do would be in the pool under Matthew’s supervision. She wouldn’t use cryptic instructions.

  “Sophie what are you doing?” Carol’s voice spoke from the other side of the door.

  She threw off the bathing cap and goggles, and stood dripping on the bathmat.

  “You’ve been in there forever and the vegetable curry you made is bubbling over.” She needed that curry not to burn, as she was fighting her war on fat as well as her desire not to learn how to swim.

  “I’ll be out in a second,” she said, with unmistakable urgency in her voice as she tore off the swimming costume. If she couldn’t even wear the gear in the bathtub, how was she going to survive in the pool? How was she going to survive the water? The humiliation?

  Before leaving the bathroom, she did one hundred leg raises. That night, she dreamt of choking, drowning in the water.

  How was she going to survive the fear?

  Chapter 8

  A week passed of Sophie squatting, bending and lunging. The more Sophie stared at her thighs, the less impact she seemed to have made from the useless exercises. By the time Thursday evening came, she was sweating, having to reveal her legs and, of course, get in the pool for the dreaded swimming lesson.

  Flashbacks of her drowning incident replayed in her mind. She desperately tried to push the thoughts away. They wouldn’t serve her. The accident was almost twenty-five years ago, so why could she still remember the way it felt when her eyes seemed like they were going to pop out of her head when she was struggling to get air?

  She arrived at Highbury Aquatic Centre and felt as if someone was sitting on her chest. Each breath was a struggle. Her heart constricted. This was what it must feel like to have a heart attack. She stood in the outside reception, her mouth dry, clutching her Mary Poppins bag, containing the swimming essentials.

  “Hi, Eve,” she said. “I’m here for my lesson with Matthew.”

  Eve ran her dark eyes over Sophie’s sweat pants and t-shirt, giving an approving nod.

  “Sophie? You look different, not so dressed up. Much more sporty. Much more prepared for a visit to the pool.”

  Sophie inhaled, trying to steady her voice, hide her fear. “Yeah, I look different without loads of makeup. I was on my way to work the other day.” She ran a shaky hand through her severe ponytail, playing with the strands at end. “What do I have to do to start?”

  “Sign the book.” Eve passed her a pen. “Matthew’s a great teacher; don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

  Sophie focused her thoughts on writing as neatly as she could, trying to ignore the apprehension crawling up the back of her neck.

  She glanced at the clock above the counter, five minutes to eight. She grabbed onto the reception counter, stalling for time, trying to encourage conversation. “Is there anything else I need to do?”

  “Just get changed,” Eve said with a friendly smile. “You’re going to be late.”

  Her mobile phone rang, and the name Mum flashed up on the caller ID screen. Sophie silenced it, promising to herself to ring later.

  “Yup, better get into my swimsuit.”

  She wandered to the locker rooms and slid into a small changing cubicle, not quite understanding why men went crazy for girls in swimsuits. She pulled the lycra swimsuit over her body. She hated the slimy feeling of the fabric, stretching over her like she’d been devoured by a snake and was stuck in its scaly skin. This skimpy, tight outfit was not a man magnet, no matter how she looked at it.

  The suit pulled over her chest, flattening her breasts, taking away any womanly charm. The fabric was tight and unforgiving on her thighs.

  On her head, she wore the bathing cap, a gift from Matthew, who thought he was a dolphin. Fuck she was having lessons with a crazy man who thought he was a dolphin. With her long brown hair stuffed up under it, the swimming cap created a smooth cone shape on her head – not an overly attractive appearance. The goggles he’d given her were the clincher, the buggy glasses pulling focus from her brown eyes. Yet she pulled the strap tighter, certain to create a nice red ring around the eye socket. There was no way any chlorine was splashing, or getting into her eyes during this dreaded lesson. And she didn’t care if she looked half alien. Nope, this was the outfit, and she patted down all the necessary protective accessories. All parts were required to face her fear.

  There was one more item, she held onto a plastic kickboard, as if it were her own secret weapon, her life raft, saving her from the possibility of drowning.

  She pushed her shoulders back, opening the changing room door and exited the bathroom wondering what scared her more. Being seen in the bright red swimsuit or flapping helplessly in the pool as the water choked her?

  A surge of panic gripped her, striking out with absolute clarity. What on earth was she doing here, standing in this ridiculous outfit, looking out into a swimming pool?

  The water was glittering, and shimmering on the surface, inviting her to step into the pool like an evil temptress.

  Matthew was leaning on the other side, at the deep end. Of course, being as gorgeous as he was, women of all ages surrounded him, all hanging off every word he said. Not one lady looked as ridiculous as she felt, she noted. They looked like they’d made some type of super effort to go to the local pool, faces plastered with make-up. Hopefully they were wearing waterproof mascara, because there was no way anyone had such long lashes. There were no bathing caps, no goggles, and no one-pieces. They all wore bikinis. Her heart constricted and a thought flew into her mind, she was the pool geek. The awkward girl. She’s never been in this position before, and everyone here would feel sorry for her, pity her. There was no chance at being glamorous or stylish. She shivered, she couldn’t... no she wouldn’t take the accessories off. As much as she would like to strut around, she needed them to survive.

  As though he sensed her anxiety he turned around,
flashing his come-hither, broad dimpled smile. She felt her knees buckle slightly, momentarily unsteady, as she gazed at him. He was devastatingly handsome. But that wasn’t enough to get her into the water.

  His head of blond hair sank beneath the surface, his figure propelling through the water, torpedoing straight for her.

  “Holy crap,” Sophie whispered. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Matthew’s head broke through the surface, shaking droplets from his hair as he emerged in front of her, where she stood with trepidation overlooking the pool.

  He looked at her, raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Sophie, come on in.”

  She let out a long low whistle. “I guess this is it,” she said and without further hesitation, dropped her towel, stepping over to the ladder.

  She stood on the top rung, grimaced as her toes scrunched the edge. She looked out into the horizon, trying to focus on the children splashing in the distance rather than the large, overwhelming body of water, which was simply waiting to swallow her whole.

  Her body froze, and for her, this was a normal natural reaction. She looked down, Matthew smiled, probably thought he was encouraging her. Hardly. She felt even more nervous, quite possibly because he was so blooming good looking. If only she had an ordinary looking bloke giving her swimming lessons. That might be better.

  This was it, she would take the plunge. She shut her eyes, and she gripped the kickboard, ready to plunge.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” Matthew interjected.

  She flicked them open, her hands coiling round the kickboard. “I’m psyching myself up. This is my method.”

  “Why don’t you try something a little bit different to psych yourself up? Maybe say something positive. Using positive reinforcement is supposed to be very effective in times like this.”