About the Book
While attending a state training camp, Delphie Attkinson and the Year 7 Royal Academy of Sport for Girls swim squad come face to face with their biggest rival, the National Swim School. Delphie sees this as an opportunity to learn all about the strengths and weaknesses of the Swim School’s best swimmers, the unbeatable Ogilvy twins. Surprisingly, Delphie forms a close friendship with one of the sisters – but in doing so, she uncovers a shocking secret.
Can swim queen Delphie keep her winning edge as rivalries and unexpected scandals surface?
CONTENTS
COVER
ABOUT THE BOOK
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHARACTER PROFILE
OTHER BOOKS IN SERIES
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT NOTICE
For my dad. Thank you for planting a love of words deep into my heart.
According to Greek mythology, Delphin was the god of the dolphins. He served the sea-god Poseidon and was sent on special missions for him. He was fast, sleek and beautiful. He was a creature of the water – the sea was his domain. His shining body would glide through the misty depths of the ocean, seeking out whatever Poseidon had sent him to find.
It was a story that ran through my head often. My mum had told it to me over and over as I went to sleep at night. You see, my name is Delphine and, like my namesake Delphin, I too am a creature of the water.
It was obvious from a young age that I was special when it came to the water. I was able to swim by the time I was two years old and by five I was swimming laps with kids twice my age. I was discovered by a coach from a renowned local swim school and he put me in their elite development squad when I was eight. I was training five mornings a week in every season of the year. But it was never a chore. Before the sun had even kissed the horizon, I would be awake in the darkness of my room, packing my swimming bag, ready for training. My poor parents were dragged out of bed at five o’clock in the morning to take me to my squads. But I think it was all worth it for them, as they huddled on the sideline with a rug and a steaming thermos of coffee, to see the glee on my face as I finished another lap. I’d wave to them on the viewing platform, giving them a big thumbs up. They would wave back and smile.
As time went on, juggling school and swimming training became difficult. Training became earlier and earlier in the morning so we could fit in enough sessions alongside school. I loved school, but every afternoon my eyes would be fixated on the classroom clock, willing the little hands to move faster towards home time so I could hit the pool or the beach.
If I wasn’t at training, I’d be at the beach with my dad and my three older siblings. My dad is a keen surfer – he once represented Australia in surfing – and all my siblings have been water babies. My two brothers surf competitively and my older sister plays water polo for the state. We live right by the beach and we only feel complete if we have sand between our toes and crunchy sea-salt hair.
I remember my dad driving me to early-morning training one day when I was in Year 5. He said that he and Mum were exhausted by my training schedule as well as looking after the other three kids who had their own gruelling timetables. My heart was in my throat – where was he going with this conversation? In my mind that day, I decided that if he was going to make me quit swimming, I would run away to the ocean and become a mermaid and live in an underwater kingdom for the rest of my days.
Luckily, Dad wasn’t asking me to quit swimming at all, which was fortunate as I wasn’t exactly sure how to find this underwater kingdom. Instead, he told me about a school in the city that was the best sporting academy for girls in the country – a school where you did your schoolwork but also had time every single day to devote to your chosen sport. Girls from this school went on to the Olympics and other sporting halls of fame. It was called the Royal Academy of Sport for Girls and it sounded like a dream come true.
The Academy was about a forty-minute bus ride from our house. It was also a boarding school, but I wouldn’t need to stay there as I lived close enough to just ride the bus each day. This was a huge relief for me, as a life lived far from the beach seemed like no life at all.
Getting into the Academy was tough. I spent the rest of that year training the hardest I’d ever trained in my life. Every other swimming meet seemed irrelevant – the only thing I wanted was to get into this school.
Finally, after swimming meets, interviews and some academic testing, the results were in. They came in the form of a crisp, white envelope with the Academy logo on the top left-hand corner. I remember gazing at the school crest with its four quadrants. I ran my fingers over the images inside the crest – a lion, an eagle, a plume of feathers and the laurel leaves. Underneath were some Latin words which I couldn’t read. I clearly remember my dad opening the letter for me – I couldn’t look. I scanned his face eagerly, searching for a hint of disappointment or glee.
That was last year.
Which brings me up to this moment.
Here I was, shaking out my arms and legs as I approached the blocks. I glanced down at my Academy swimming costume and smiled. It was navy blue with a white trim and bore the Academy crest on the bottom left hip. I adjusted my swimming cap that had the Royal Academy of Sport for Girls initials on the side. I felt someone squeeze my arm in encouragement. It was Melissa, another member of the 4 x 100-metre relay team. She was the first to swim as our strong backstroke swimmer. She offered me a nervous smile.
Next up would be Bec. Her specialty was breaststroke. She was shy by nature but a force to be reckoned with in the water.
Our butterfly swimmer was Ava. She is the tallest twelve-year-old I’ve ever seen and one of the best athletes I’ve met. She could have qualified at the Academy in athletics, basketball or netball, but swimming is her passion.
And then there was me. Delphine. Delphie-Dolphin, as the girls called me. I was the last to race as the fastest 100-metre freestyler at the Academy for our age group.
‘Okay, girls, let’s do this!’ I yelled, jumping up and down. I’d become like the captain of the relay team – Coach Stuart had asked me to be in charge of psyching up the girls before the race. I know exactly why he chose me to do it – I was a ball of energy and positivity and nothing could shake my confidence. I’d always been the loudest person in any room and shyness was not a problem for me. Keeping my mouth shut sometimes was.
Melissa stood on the edge of the pool and took a deep breath. She plopped herself into the water and resurfaced, giving us a big smile. She held on to the side of the pool and adjusted her goggles.
‘Time to win, girls, and time to kick some butt!’ a voice yelled from the lane next to me. I looked over and saw Annabel Ogilvy clapping loudly to encourage her relay team. Annabel glanced at me with a cold, blank expression, then turned back to her team.
I knew Annabel because she was also the freestyle swimmer for their team. While I was the fastest freestyler at the Academy, she was the fastest freestyler at the National Swim School. They were our biggest rival. In most meets, it was either me or Annabel who took out the 100-metre freestyle gold. We’d swum against them in the qualifiers earlier and Annabel seemed to be swimming a little slower than usual. We qualified first and the National Swim School had come in second. I was quietly hoping maybe they were having an off day.
‘Take you
r mark,’ a crackly voice said over the speaker system.
Melissa crouched up against the wall, ready to push off.
BEEEP!
The backstroke swimmers launched themselves into the water and the race was in full swing. Melissa’s long, lean body undulated through the clear water with her arms stretched out above her head. She’d made a good start.
Suddenly, the erratic splashing began as the backstroke swimmers surfaced. Melissa powered through the water at amazing speed with the Swim School backstroker just half a body behind. Melissa made a good turn and pushed out in front as she swam back towards us in her final lap. As her last arm stroke reached out for the wall, Bec was off.
The frenzied splashing of the backstrokers subsided as the heads of the breaststroke swimmers bobbed up and down in the water. The Swim School breaststroker was probably the best swimmer on their team. She quickly destroyed the lead that Melissa had created in the backstroke leg and overtook Bec at the tumble turn. But Bec wasn’t giving up. She kept close to the Swim School swimmer, nipping at her toes the whole lap back.
I wasn’t too nervous yet as I knew Ava would be our secret weapon in getting us ahead again on the butterfly leg. As Bec finished, Ava propelled her body into the water and began her thundering butterfly lap. Her wide, strong shoulders pulsed in and out of the water as she drove her body forwards. By the time Ava was heading back up towards our end of the pool, she’d regained the lead. She was a body length ahead of anybody else and I knew all I had to do was finish the job for a win.
I stood on the blocks, energy pumping through my body. It had been a huge day for me – qualifiers and finals in four races and this was my last race of the day. Even though I was exhausted, I knew I could do it.
I glanced to my side and saw Annabel Ogilvy yelling ‘C’mon!’ as she stood tall, ready to dive. It was going to be between the two of us. Annabel had swum just as much as I had that day, so she should have been equally tired. We were both running on empty tanks, but it was time to pull out any last drops of energy we had left.
As Ava thundered to the end of the pool, I launched myself into a long, graceful dive. The deafening roar of the water in my ears as I hit the pool signalled to my body that it was time to give everything I had. As I began into my freestyle stroke, I knew I had to finish this off for my team. The black line at the bottom of the pool raced by beneath me as I quickly reached the end of my first lap. I could feel Annabel just behind me – an eerie, threatening presence.
As the end of the pool approached, I felt my rhythm was a bit off. My tumble turn was too early and I didn’t get maximum push-off for my second lap. I could feel Annabel tumble next to me and shoot out ahead.
I switched it up a gear and began to sprint. But Annabel was like a rocket. Her swimming seemed far stronger than it had been in the qualifiers.
I knew I had to focus on my own stroke and stop worrying about what was happening in the next lane. I put my head down and channelled every ounce of strength I had left into finishing this race.
As I hurtled towards the finish, I gave it everything. I thumped my hand against the wall, ripped off my goggles and turned to the electronic scoreboard as the winners lit up one by one.
1. The National Swim School
2. The Royal Academy of Sport for Girls
3. College of Sport
4. Hunterville Sports High
I didn’t even read the rest of the placings. We hadn’t won.
I looked up and saw the Swim School team pull Annabel Ogilvy out of the pool and hug her. They pumped their fists into the air and made a ‘number one’ sign with their fingers.
My team hoisted me out of the pool and gave me a pat on the back.
‘Good swim, Delphie,’ Ava said.
‘I’m so sorry, guys, I let you down,’ I said, shaking my head. I felt terrible.
‘Second place is great,’ Melissa smiled. ‘We’ll get them next time.’
As we moved to the side and grabbed our towels, I saw Annabel pull off her swim cap. Her long, dark hair tumbled down from her ponytail as she rubbed her face with her towel.
‘You did it!’ squealed a voice behind us.
Another girl, of identical height to Annabel – and with the same long, dark hair – ran up and hugged her. It was her identical twin sister, Ashley. Ashley was also one of the Swim School’s better swimmers, although she wasn’t quite as unbeatable as her sister, which was why she didn’t swim in the relay. The Ogilvy sisters stood side by side, holding hands. They were towering girls, standing together in a seemingly unbreakable wall. One thing was for sure, if the Academy was going to take down the Swim School any time soon, we had to start beating the twins. Especially Annabel.
We walked through the grounds in a line with our arms linked, the four of us taking up the entire path. We wore our Academy tracksuits with royal blue pants and a tracksuit top, zipped high up under our chins. That’s just how swimmers wore them. Gymnasts seemed to prefer the baggy jumpers and equestrian girls wore their tracksuit tops zipped only halfway up with a turtleneck underneath. But the basketballers always walked around in their sleeveless T-shirts, even in the middle of winter. It was funny how you could tell what sport everyone was from just by looking at them.
On most days, we had to wear the very formal Academy uniform. In winter it was a crisp white shirt, a tie and a heavy, navy, striped tunic over the top. We also wore navy stockings and polished (yes, always polished!) black shoes. But today was Friday, a full training day, which meant we had sport for the entire day. We were allowed to go to school in our sports uniforms instead of changing halfway through.
‘Delphie, what is your hair doing?’ a voice asked from behind us.
Melissa, Bec, Ava and I unlinked our arms and turned to see Mrs Brunette, the school headmistress. I lifted my hand to my hair and realised I’d left it out again – long white-blonde hair flowing down my back.
‘Oh, sorry, Mrs B!’ I said hurriedly, as I bundled my hair into a ponytail.
‘That’s Mrs Brunette, thank you,’ she replied, trying to hide a smile.
I pulled the elastic band from my wrist and wound it tightly around my hair.
‘Ribbon or scrunchie?’ Mrs Brunette added, with a raised eyebrow.
‘Tada!’ I yelled, pulling a ribbon from my pocket.
Mrs Brunette smiled, shaking her head lightly. ‘Thank you, Delphie.’
As Mrs Brunette walked away, we linked arms again.
‘You are hilarious, Delphie,’ Melissa said.
‘Why?’
‘You talk to the principal as if she’s your best mate! I’d never be brave enough to talk to her like that,’ Melissa said. Melissa was a lot of fun but she was quieter by nature. She definitely wasn’t a rule breaker, like I could be.
‘I’m not used to the hoity-toity at this school,’ I said, scrunching up my nose. ‘At my old school, there weren’t so many rules to remember! Ribbons, polished shoes, hair up at all times, regulation undies –’
Bec laughed. ‘Delphie! There are no regulation undies!’
‘There may as well be because everything else is regulation!’ I giggled. ‘And there was no “Miss” and “Sir” at my old school either – we called our teachers by their first names, and after school we’d end up down the beach surfing with them!’
‘Can you imagine Mrs Brunette on a surfboard?’ Ava cackled.
Mornings at the Academy always started with assembly. The grand Assembly Hall was located right at the top of the campus. We walked slowly along the path, passing the tennis courts and netball courts. As we snaked up through the school, we passed three lush green ovals with soccer and hockey goals set up, as well as the athletics track. The school was huge, and I’d learnt over my six months there that you had to give yourself a good ten minutes to walk through the grounds in order to get anywhere on time.
We stopped off at the building next to the Assembly Hall where all the Year 7 lockers and bag racks were. Girls were bustling about, so
rting their belongings for the day.
‘Hey, Delphie!’ A blonde girl waved as she approached us.
‘Oh, hey, Evie. Ready for the Science test tomorrow?’ I asked.
‘No!’ She laughed.
I laughed too as she walked off. Evie was a lot like me – loud and always saying exactly what was on her mind. She was an Academy gymnast, although not the tiny type. She was tall for a gymnast and she looked strong and powerful. She was in my Science class and we’d become good friends when we were both moved to the front desk in the class for talking too much at the back.
Suddenly, the bell pierced through the air and the sound of lockers opening and slamming became more frenzied.
We walked across the quad, breathing in the crisp winter air. It was days like these that I was glad the school pool was well heated.
We approached the Assembly Hall and filed in with the mass of students. The hall was an impressive building – it was a huge auditorium with lines of bench seats in front of a giant stage.
‘Squeeze in,’ a teacher said as she ushered us to one of the rows. The four of us slid along the row towards the end and sat down. The room was buzzing with chatter and laughter until a single bell sounded and every one ceased talking, immediately standing up.
Down the centre of the hall, a procession of the principal, the school captain and some of the teachers walked to the stage and tiptoed up the steps. All of them sat on seats which lined the front of the stage while Mrs Brunette stepped up to the lectern. She gently adjusted the microphone to her height.
‘Good morning, everyone.’
‘Good morning, Mrs Bruuuuuuneeeeettte,’ everyone chorused.
‘We shall begin with our school song,’ Mrs Brunette said, as a soundtrack clicked on through the loud speaker.
In Too Deep Page 1