Sophie arrived at Highbury Aquatic Centre feeling as if someone was sitting on her chest. Each breath was a struggle. Her heart felt constantly constricted. This was what it must feel like to have a heart attack.
She stood inside the locker room 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 a bathing cap, the gift from Matthew, who thought he was a dolphin. Hell… she was having lessons with a man who thought he was a dolphin. Who was more crazy, the girl with the phobia, or the guy who thought he was an animal?
With her long brown hair stuffed under the swimming cap, she’d now 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 her eye socket. There was no way any chlorine was getting into her eyes during this dreaded lesson. And she didn’t care if she looked half alien. Nope, this was the outfit.
Sophie patted down all the necessary protective accessories. All parts were required to face her fear.
There was one more item. She picked up the plastic kickboard, holding onto it as if it were her own secret weapon, her life raft, the only thing saving her from the possibility of drowning.
She pushed her shoulders back, opening the changing room door. Exiting, she wondered 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 onto a swimming pool?
The water glittered, light shimmering on the surface, inviting her in.
Matthew was already in the water, leaning against the edge on the far side, at the deep end. Of course, being as gorgeous as he was, women of all ages surrounded him, legs dangling in the water, all hanging off every word he said. Not one lady looked as ridiculous as she did, Sophie noted. They looked like they’d made a special effort to go to the local pool, faces plastered with make-up. There were no bathing caps, no goggles, and no one-pieces. They all wore bikinis.
Sophie's heart constricted and a thought flew into her mind. She was the pool geek. The awkward girl. She’d never been in this position before. Everyone here would feel sorry for her, pity her. There was no chance of 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 her equipment in order to survive.
As though Matthew sensed her anxiety, he turned round, flashing his come-hither, dimpled smile. Sophie 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, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “Sophie, come on in.”
She let out a long low whistle. “I guess this is it,” she said. Desperately trying not to think too hard about what she was about to do, Sophie tossed her towel onto a bench and stepped over to the ladder.
She stood on the top rung, facing the water as she prepared to get in. She grimaced as her toes scrunched the edge. She looked to the other side of the pool, trying to focus on the children splashing in the distance rather than the large, overwhelming body of water, waiting to swallow her whole.
Sophie's body froze, and for her, this was a normal, natural reaction. She looked down. Matthew smiled, probably thinking he was encouraging her. Hardly. She felt even more nervous, quite possibly because he was so damn good looking. If only she had an ordinary looking bloke giving her swimming lessons. That might be better.
This was it, she was taking the plunge. Sophie shut her eyes, and she gripped the kickboard, ready to leap.
“Don’t close your eyes,” Matthew interjected.
She flicked them open, her hands coiling round the kickboard. “I’m working myself up. This is my method.”
“Why don’t you try something a little bit different to work yourself up? Maybe say something positive. Using positive reinforcement can be very effective in times like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Speak to yourself, talk out loud and say positive thoughts. Look for something, anything you can see that is positive in this situation. Or, maybe just say, you like swimming. Simple. Effective. That’s probably the easiest, and that’s the overall goal, isn’t it, for you to like swimming?”
“I thought survival was the main goal and major objective here?” She sighed. “Not being choked to death by water.”
Mathew laughed. “True, survival is definitely a goal here in the pool. But if you keep telling yourself that you like swimming, and you say the phrase often enough, you’ll eventually believe it. You'll have created a self-fulfilling prophecy. Your own mantra.”
Sophie looked at Matthew, her voice loaded with scepticism. “Really?” She raised her eyebrows, not that he’d see under her goggles and cap. She made a face anyway. He was crazy.
“Come on, give it a go. Give it a chance. Just say you like swimming. Say the phrase three times as you get into the pool. Positive thinking works wonders. You’ll see.”
She narrowed her eyes, looking for signs of madness. His gaze was straight, serious. He didn’t seem to have any gouges, bite marks, or grazes from rabid dogs on his bare skin - and Sophie could see quite a lot of bare skin. Matthew was wearing only swimming trunks.
The words stuck in the back of her throat, so unfamiliar, so unnatural to her normal thinking.
“I like swimming.” Sophie almost choked on the phrase, lifting one foot in the air, ready to jump.
Matthew held his hand up, indicating she should stop.
She halted and didn’t enter the water, instead furrowing her brow in confusion. Wasn’t this the point of the exercise, to enter the harrowing depths? To get wet?
“Rather than simply jump into the pool, why don’t you face the ladder? You don’t need the kickboard quite yet either, rest that on the edge of the pool. We’ll use that another day.”
Sophie placed the kickboard by the side of the pool, feeling her stomach lurch, feeling like she’d cut her own umbilical cord and now was as helpless as a newborn baby.
“Facing the ladder will control your descent and help prevent water getting up your nose.”
Sophie swivelled, faced the ladder, and was suddenly aware of Matthew’s view. Her bottom and thighs would be at head height for him, the perfect position for him to gaze on them, if he so desired. She didn’t want to rearrange her swimsuit now, didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Could she feel the suit sliding up? Possibly. It was probably riding up, right up her bottom. Oh God, she needed to get into the water, fast.
She took a step down the ladder. Her priority became clear: thighs and bottom must get into the water to find coverage – now. Hesitation was not going to help in this instance, it was best to blank the fears from her mind.
“Say you like swimming.”
“I like swimming.” The words almost blended together, she spoke fast and dropped another rung. She winced, flinched, feeling the water splash her toes, surprised by the cool temperature.
“You??
?ll warm up, I promise you. It’s not cold once you get moving around.”
She didn’t have time to focus on the temperature because her thighs and bottom were still hovering in the air, too close for Matthew’s inspection.
Sophie stepped down onto the next rung, that much closer to her thighs being submerged and safely covered. Then another rung. Thighs were safe! Phew! Her excitement mounted. She could do it.
“For the third and final time, you know what you need to say,” Matthew continued, prattling along like he thought she cared about his positive thinking, positive speaking mantra.
She’d say the words; speak any phrase at this point, as long as she could hide herself within the water. “I like swimming,” she said with a burst he no doubt mistook for enthusiasm as she reached the last rung, lowering her body into the depths. “Hoorah,” she said. She was covered, safe and secure.
“You’re in,” Mathew said, his exuberance matching hers.
“I’m in.” There was an element of pride in Sophie's words mixed with a splash of hope. Surely getting in was enough, more than enough, for the first lesson.
Then she realised she was in. Actually in the water. Her eyes roamed wildly, children screamed, possibly joyously. Other kids dived into the depths. Some enthusiasts were even swimming laps.
Sophie held onto the ladder rail, fingers gripping tightly. This was a very safe spot, she should just stay here. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Now that she was in the water, the fear shot back through her body. She had bigger issues than her body to contend with – the pool, the water, and of course, drowning.
“I need you to turn around from the rail. I’ve got a pool noodle for you to hang on to. They float and can support you if you like.”
It felt like an eternity before Sophie turned around from the pool ladder, but, like he'd promised, Matthew stood in front of her, holding onto a cylindrical length of thin green foam.
“As a start, you’re going to have to let go of the rail. Here take the noodle.” He held it out to her.
Sophie flattened her back against the ladder. The rail felt solid. Safe. “Now that’s a crazy idea.” She smiled brightly at him, the cool water making her feel somewhat more alert.
“We’re going to move a fraction to the side, to the wall. Not too far, but just so other people can get into the pool. So when you let go of the rail, hold onto the noodle. It floats and you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“No kickboard. No rail. It feels very unsafe.” She absorbed the idea; not particularly tempting for a land creature like herself.
“I’ll be here if anything happens.”
She scrunched her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and felt feverish. One finger released the rail, then the next and, courageously, she dropped her arm. Sophie finally planted two feet on the tiled floor of the pool, water coming to her armpits. She felt unbalanced, as if she were dancing on a ship caught in rough seas. She could feel her breath coming faster and tried not to panic. She grabbed the noodle from him, clutching it to her, her new piece of safety equipment.
“I want us to walk toward the far wall. You’ll have the noodle, and I’ve got the side of the pool. The water's very shallow.”
Sophie scrunched her toes on the tiles, not sure if she wanted to move from the spot.
“Unfortunately, standing isn’t considered swimming. You're doing fine standing, but have a go at some movement.”
“I can do this,” Sophie said enthusiastically, trying to appear more confident than she really felt.
“Yes, you can,” said Matthew with a warm smile. “Now, I want you to take your first step forward. A baby step. But a huge step forward into becoming a great swimmer.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke.
“This is a true Neil Armstrong moment,” Sophie muttered. “One small step for Sophie Smart. Yet one giant leap for the world of advertising.”
“Very clever Miss Smart,” Matthew said. “You can moonwalk towards me, if that imagery helps, as long as we get to the wall.”
“When I think of moonwalking,” she panted, trying to distract herself with words rather than focus on the way she moved. She wiggled her foot, moved it no further than an inch. Her toes slipped on the tiles, trying desperately to grip the ground. “I think of Michael Jackson.”
“Try to uncoil your toes.”
“You know MJ’s dead.”
“Not from swimming.”
“You sure?”
“Trust me.”
“You sure I can uncoil my toes?” she said, unable to distract herself any further.
“Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Sophie felt like laughing, how could she trust any man, especially after Derek-who-supposedly-loved-her had hurt her so much?
Matthew gave her a hurt look, and she suddenly felt her cheeks redden as a sense of shame rippled through her. Maybe Matthew was a different type of man, at least in the water, and she was, after all, putting her life in his hands.
“Sorry, I'll try,” she said, not able to say the actual word. The big ‘T’ for trust. Trust was compacted somewhere inside her being, reserved, blocked off, in case she got hurt. Nobody, including this seemingly lovely man, was going to win her trust without some type of trial period. Matthew was on probation. Yes, probation, and his true colours would come out soon enough.
Sophie flattened her feet on the ground. She took a second step, moving closer to where Matthew was leading her to the wall. She noticed his washboard stomach, flat of course, not an ounce of fat. She diverted her eyes back to his face, concentrating on his words. That was what she needed to do in the water, concentrate, not check out her swimming coach. She took a few steps and got to the far wall. A thrill went up her spine, and she realised her breathing was hard.
She flashed him a smile. “We got here.”
He nodded. “I told you you could do it, didn’t I?”
Sophie bit her lip. “Yes. This is a very safe spot.” She felt an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. She was safe.
“How do you feel about getting your head underwater?”
“I don’t really like that.” There was no point pretending. “If I go underwater I’ll just drown.” One of her hands came to her bathing cap, checking it was still pulled over her ears, and she felt her goggles, still pulled tight.
“What we’re going to do next is learn how to relax in the shallow water, and practice breath control. So with two arms holding onto the wall we’re going to both do a series of bobs.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you.” He held the wall with both his hands. “Watch my demonstration. I take a deep breath through my mouth, while holding onto the wall and I try and become as relaxed as possible.” She could hear him sucking in air. “With the air in my lungs, I find a sense of calm, and holding my breath, I bob under.” He dropped suddenly into the water, his arms still holding the wall, but his head was underneath the surface. After a few seconds he shot back up and blew out a big breath. “Did you see that I blew a breath out?”
Sophie nodding, feeling her arms begin to tighten. “But what if I run out of breath? What if I need the air before I come up?”
“If you only go down for a few seconds, you won’t run out of breath.”
She felt her chest tighten, apprehension flooding her being.
“When you go underwater, you get lots of water around you, on your face, on your arms, on your forehead, on your hair. When you bob up, the water spills over you. So if you breathe in as soon as you come up, what do you think happens to all of this water?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I suck it in?”
He nodded. “That’s right. Breathing in through your nose or mouth will encourage water to go up your nose.”
“Oh. I don’t like that thought at all.” Flashing images rushed through Sophie's mind, drowning, struggling and water funneling up her nose.
“But if you breathe out, what do you think will happen?”
“Wat
er goes in the opposite direction?”
“That’s right. It makes sense, doesn’t it? You’re actually forcing the water to spill off your face, out of your nose and away from your mouth faster. Sounds logical, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose so.” Her heart raced. She hoped this was just a demonstration and they’d stay holding the wall today.
“You couldn’t see what I was doing but I had my eyes open under the water. I looked at the wall, and took a look around the pool.”
Sophie shivered; the very idea of bobbing under the water seemed quite extraordinary.
“You’ve got goggles on, right?”
“Yes.” She swallowed. What, he couldn’t see them?
“The goggles will help keep water out of your eyes. So you should feel absolutely comfortable looking around. Why don’t we give it a try?”
Sophie shook her head violently. “I’ll get water up my nose.” She also knew the bathing cap was not as waterproof as a person might think. Water would stream into the sides, flowing into her ears and quite possibly wetting her hair.
“On the count of three we’re going to go under. Remember, you’re holding onto the wall. You can stand up immediately if you feel uncomfortable.”
Sophie could feel the sound of her heart beating and hear Matthew’s breathing. She felt nauseous. “What if I mess it up? What if I drown?”
“You won’t. Besides, you have this solid wall right here. It’s strong and you can definitely pull yourself up.”
Using every piece of courage she possessed, Sophie opened her mouth and inhaled. She was in control now, in charge of her descent into the depths.
“Take a deep breath before you go under,” Matthew said. “Relax, and if you feel comfortable, when I count to three, duck down, then look around when you’re under, bob back up, and blow the air out of your mouth. I'll go down with you.”
“One,” he started. Sophie once more inhaled. “Two.” Air filled every space of her lungs, and her body inflated like a balloon. “Three.” He concluded the count.
Sophie's legs folded beneath her. Water was on her chest, neck, mouth, and head. She submerged.
She had shut her eyes, and it took all of her effort to open the lids, eyes darting around. Her heart raced and she felt her temples pulse. She saw Matthew's face beside her, amplified by her goggles, his large male head with hair sticking up like reeds or wet straw. He loomed, like a drowned scarecrow, and held two thumbs up. He thrust himself up, and Sophie couldn’t be quicker to follow.
She thrust out of the water, ecstatic to once more have the security of the wall, and for her head to be out.
“Breathe out of your mouth,” Matthew instructed. Sophie exhaled loudly. She then inhaled and gasped, sucking in a quick succession of breaths, almost hyperventilating in the process.
“Well done. You did that perfectly. Now breathe calmly, normally.”
She wiped her nose, not wanting any drips to choke her. Sophie found her chest starting to normalise, as the realisation dawned on her that she was against the wall, standing and not choking to death.
“It’s a miracle,” she said in a low voice. He was smiling like she had done something absolutely extraordinary. Sophie's feet were firm on the tiles.
“Breathe and find your calm. You’re doing great.”
Everything was fine, and she was safe.
“We’ll wait for you to get your heart rate back to normal. But you did really great.”
A shiver of pleasure ran up her spine. She’d done great. Her… in the water.
She felt a sense of calm settle upon her, and she looked up at him and smiled.
“Do you think you’re up for another bob? Think you’ve got more in you?”
Sophie bit her lip, her heart starting again. “Okay,” she murmured, feeling she could do it again. “Thanks, for not pushing me too far. I appreciate that,” she spoke softly.
She gazed at him and became violently aware of his male presence and his near nakedness in only his swimming trunks. She swallowed, faced the wall, ready to do another bob, focusing on her breathing, and finding her sense of calm. Relax. She needed to relax. Staring starry-eyed at Matthew wasn’t helping, nor would getting preoccupied, and all heady. She was the pool nerd, proving that with her Neil Armstrong comment, and not the pool flirt.
But if she was very lucky she might get to be the teacher’s pet.
Chapter 7