The hospital became Sophie’s home from home. It wasn’t long until both Sophie and Gloria were on first name terms with the various doctors treating Roger. Sophie’s dad had had a heart attack and he was still in recovery.
The upside, if there could be one, came in the form of hunky medics. Throughout her father’s recovery, they diligently alleviated Sophie’s worries. The practitioner’s clean scrubs provoked memories. A whiff of bleach or detergent reminded her of chlorine. She couldn’t help but think of Matthew, for he always smelt like chlorine. He’d fit right in at a hospital, especially with his experience helping people. Being a swimming coach, he probably already knew cardio-pulmonary resuscitation, or in abbreviated medical terms, CPR. Of course he would, since he was into saving lives and all that. Although, Sophie didn’t suppose doctor’s had the same type of passion with water or sea creatures. And Matthew did have a particular interest in wanting to be a dolphin.
Nurses strode around the hospital. If they heard her chatting on her mobile phone discussing something frivolous like a dolphin, then they’d probably confiscate it, so when she received messages from work saying Matthew had rung, she didn’t call him back. In fact, they hadn’t spoken since New Year’s. With the hospital’s limited mobile phone reception making the line crackle, phone calls really were almost impossible. It was difficult to prioritise much else other than focus on her dad and his recovery.
Sophie was overwhelmed juggling her time to support her father and of course her responsibilities back at the office. Whenever she was at Clarks, Bradley constantly shouted at her, urging her to exceed his expectations. To avoid his constant reprimands, Sophie had to do one thing she had never quite done, trust her colleagues to step up. Although Sophie didn’t dare trust Kelly – that would be naive.
Sophie made small incremental steps forward in the process of delegation. Being at the hospital, she wasn’t doing all-nighters. She couldn’t. She trusted Jessica completely to do exactly what her job title read, administrative support. This meant Jessica was able to help a little bit when Sophie was missing in action, at the hospital. Jessica was also able to help arrange the wrap party for the Silver account; since the campaign was running to schedule.
Matthew had called Sophie’s office a few times. He’d left her messages. Sophie either saw them at the most inconvenient time, when the janitor’s vacuum was hoovering next to her late in the evening, or when Bradley was chastising her. By the time Sophie noticed the messages, it was too late to call and she would often just send him an email back.
Matthew hadn’t called her personal mobile phone. Sophie didn’t want to appear desperate. When Sophie’s father was released from hospital, she was determined to find some normality.
One month had passed without actually speaking to or seeing Matthew. If she left it any longer Sophie feared she’d lose her nerve to drop by the pool casually. So Sophie arranged a swimming lesson, just like before. There was nothing wrong with using a swimming lesson as an excuse.
In the pool, Matthew behaved exactly the same as he’d done before. He was friendly and supportive. There was one distinct difference. He seemed more distant, like he’d erected an invisible boundary between them.
In the pool Sophie tried to ignore the disappointment stabbing at her chest. Matthew had just instructed Sophie to complete two full laps with a kickboard.
“Keep going,” he urged as Sophie attempted to stand up in the middle of the pool. After six laps her legs felt like jelly and she was ready to get out.
“We’re not done,” Matthew insisted, glancing at the clock on the other side of the pool.
Sophie frowned. “Oh but it’s almost time….”
Matthew took the board from her. “This can’t become a crutch. It’s excellent for building confidence, stamina, and learning positions. You can’t rely on always having a floatation device. All the balance work you’ve done, you’ve got to use it in the water and swim.”
Sophie shivered. “I see.”
“You’re going to swim.”
She shuddered and watched the demonstration given by Matthew. He started with arm motions without the kickboard. After he completed his instructions, he heartlessly indicated the empty pool lane. He put the kickboard on the edge of the pool and he motioned her forward.
It was her turn.
Sophie’s arms quivered as she extended them in front. Fear rattled inside as she attempted to follow his teaching. She checked her arms and ensured the tips of her fingers touched each other. She couldn’t stop her teeth chattering and she clamped her mouth shut.
With her arms out, she plunged forward to swim.
Taking her first stroke, one arm wound round. The movement felt encumbered and almost jerky like a Thai rickshaw riding on rusted wheels. She kicked hard. Her thrashing legs might not have had the same pressure as an Olympian but excitement funnelled through her body. She was swimming. Dear God, she was swimming and she was sure to create a trail of foam behind.
Her heart hammered as she propelled her body. She felt overwhelmed at what she was actually doing. There was so much technique to remember and everything swirled through her mind.
Her legs needed to flutter kick. Her arms had to rotate. Of course there was buoyancy; that simply had to continue through the length of her stroking through the pool. Panic stabbed. She tried to focus on Matthew’s instructions.
Flutter kick. Stroke. Keep afloat. Flutter kick. Stroke. Keep afloat. Flutter kick. Stroke. Keep afloat.
On her third stroke, her arm felt as if it was whizzing through the water. She felt zealous as she flittered along the surface. Suddenly Sophie became aware she’d missed a step.
She’d missed her breath.
She needed to breathe. Breathing was the integral component of this swimming experience. Unless she’d developed a set of gills for Sophie knew what happened if she didn’t breathe. Matthew, half dolphin and half human, still needed air. He wouldn’t mind if she grabbed a cheeky breath out of the normal swimming sequence. He’d understand.
As she swam, she thrust her head to the side. Her mouth tilted above the water’s surface. Greedily she slurped air. She’d done it, she’d taken a breath!
Sophie wasn’t exactly graceful or gliding over the surface like a swan. Her body rotated and twisted like she was rocking and rolling in the water. The loss of the kickboard hampered her buoyancy, yet she pressed on, following the instructions.
Flutter kick. Stroke. Keep afloat. Flutter kick. Stroke. Keep afloat.
She started her fifth stroke. Again her arms wound round and again she missed her chance to breathe. She snatched her next breath which derailed her body’s buoyancy.
Fretting, she tried to correct her body position. She felt like a drunken llama, seesawing giddily as she moved forward in the water.
Flutter kick. Half stroke. Breathe. Finish stroke.
Despite her efforts, her torso sank and she felt like she was struggling to complete the final step.
Please stay afloat. Please stay afloat.
Sinking wasn’t supposed to be part of the whole swimming shenanigans. Her body submerged further until her feet seemed to drag on the bottom of the pool. This was hopeless. A combination of confusion and disappointment swirled around her as she stood up. She’d only completed six strokes.
Matthew clapped and the sound echoed round the pool. “Well done. You’ve swum. How do you feel?” he smiled.
Suddenly Sophie felt quite annoyed. “I’ve barely left the edge. I only went six and a bit strokes. Then I sank.” Sophie’s cheeks turned pink. “I’m a huge failure.”
“No, no,” Matthew insisted. “Remember there’s a lot going on when you’re swimming. Of course there’s buoyancy without the kick board. And the arms and legs need to learn to work together.”
Sophie frowned. “I just don’t think I’m cut out to do this. I actually sank.” She pulled her goggles off her head.
“No, no, keep on doing what you’re
doing. Next time, you’ll aim for ten breaths. You’ll get there. I promise you.”
“So how long is it going to take to do one simple lap of the pool?” she said, her voice trembling. “I mean, I’m not asking for much, just one simple lap.”
“Well it’s not that simple is it?” he replied.
“I’ve a body like the Titanic, a sinking ship.”
“It will come with time and perseverance.” He sighed dramatically. “You’ll have to practice.” He paused and without meeting her eye, he continued. “You can practice without me, you know?”
“I realise that,” she snapped. She pulled off her bathing cap. “I’m quite capable of practicing.”
“One lesson a week isn’t enough. You can’t expect to be zipping through the water in just a few sessions. The more you get in, the better you’ll get. So practice, practice, practice.”
She moved towards the step. “Fine, I’ll practice on my own then.” Without waiting for him to tell her the lesson was over, she exited the pool. “I mean, no one can have swimming lessons for eternity. I’ll have to develop some type of competency without your expert guidance.”
His gaze followed her as she collected her kickboard from the water’s edge. “You’re right, you can’t have lessons forever,” he called. “Maybe we’re all better off going it alone.”
She pulled a towel around her body and wondered whether there was any hidden context behind his words. Did he not want to teach her anymore, was that what this was all about?
She sighed. “Thanks for all your help. I mean it, I really appreciate all this so far,” she whispered hoarsely. “But from now on, I won’t want to waste your time.”
She headed for the changing room knowing she couldn’t get angry but her breathing was quite hard.
Of course she should have seen it. He was bound to want to stop the lessons at some stage. He was a busy man. He was the owner of a business conglomerate. The last thing he needed to do was teach someone elementary swimming skills. He had much better things to do.
Matthew wasn’t even at the reception counter when she left the swimming centre. He was completely avoiding her. God, this was the worst thing that could have happened. He’d ended the darn swimming partnership. If he could opt out, then so could she, surely? But she still had a job to do.