I like to get to the pool early. I want to get my fifty lengths done before the place fills up with teenagers and college types lounging around and splashing in and out of the pool.
The outdoor swimming pool is a blessing in the summer. The councilman comes at 8.45 am precisely every morning between May and September and unlocks the gates. The showers and changing rooms are old but kept spotlessly clean.
I am one of the first ones in. I head to the mens changing rooms and quickly strip and pull on my swimming togs. I stand at the edge of the pool, take a deep lungful of air and dive into the water. There are a couple of lanes set up so we can do lengths without constantly crashing into the ones more interested in cavorting about.
As the pool fills up, it becomes harder to maintain my rhythm. The woman in front of me is swimming along, doing the breaststroke, her head bobbing up and down as she gracefully but slowly covers the length of the pool. She’s swimming at about half my normal speed. With a sigh of frustration, I dive to the bottom and sit, blowing bubbles, watching the legs and bodies move like ballerinas above me.
A woman in a teal swimsuit glides past. She reminds me of a mermaid as she gracefully flicks out and turns. I can see it happen in slow motion. The slow breaststroke lady is in the way and as the mermaid pushes off from the wall, they collide with a tangle of limbs.
I push myself up from the floor and swim to them. The mermaid lady is spluttering and coughing and I ask them both if they are ok. The breaststroke lady mutters about young people and swims on.
The mermaid lady laughs. “I wish. I’m almost forty.”
She turns and thanks me. “I’m Lucy, by the way,” and holds out her hand. I take it. “I’m Gregor.” I pause before smiling. “I’m just forty.”
I can feel the wedding ring as we shake and I wonder if she notices mine.
“You were swimming beautifully,” I smile, “Before you were so rudely interrupted. Shall we continue?”
She nods, slips under the water and swims off. I launch myself after her and side by side; we swim for a few more lengths before she takes a breather, resting by the side of the pool.
We watch a group of young people cheer as a girl wearing a vest top climbs out of the water. Her top clings to her and her hard nipples poke through the almost transparent white material. She blushes and hangs her head, but as she lies down on the grass, she is smiling.
“My son is in that group,” the woman states. “He’s off to university in the summer. He’ll fly the coop and I’ll be left behind.”
“What about your husband?” I query.
“Oh, he’s stuck in his books. To be honest, I doubt if he even notices if I’m around half the time.”
I glance at the clock as I hear the town hall bell ring in the distance.
“I’m really sorry but I need to go,” I apologise.
She smiles and thanks me again for rescuing her. As I leave the pool, I curse myself for not saying more, for not staying, for not explaining.
I get home and enter the living room. She’s sitting in the same position as when I left this morning. The carers have been and washed and changed her. Dorris, the home help is bustling around, talking away and filling her in on all the gossip from the surrounding areas.
“Thanks so much, Dorris. I’m so sorry I’m a wee bit late.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. I was just telling Sandie all about Jerry’s new girlfriend. I tell you she’s trouble and no mistake. Got herself a motorbike and everything.”
I smile and nod, offer cups of tea and then, after the usual refusal, go and make myself some lunch.
I sit with Sandie and tell her about the woman who swam like a mermaid. Her eyes flicker but I don’t know how much, if anything, goes in. I sit, holding her hand as I tell her everything; from the blackbird I saw on my walk to the pool to the young girl with the wet tee shirt. When I finish talking, we sit in silence.
I put the radio on for her and go and prepare myself dinner. After I feed her her drink and do the dishes, we watch television until the carers come to put her to bed.
“Mary and Katie will be here around eight tomorrow morning,” they tell me as they leave.
I smile and nod, grateful for the respite the carers and the home help give me.
I remember how happy and relieved I was when you finally woke up after the car accident. Even though you seemed so slow to recover, the doctors kept saying things would improve but after a few weeks, phrases such as ‘a minimally conscious state’ began to be bandied about. I was loathe to turn to Dr Google but even he seemed to agree that was what you were now experiencing.
They kept saying you would get better, that they saw glimpses of you shining through, but I never saw it. I never see it. The sparkle is gone from your eyes. I don’t even know if you know how I am.
The next morning, I’m back in the pool just after it opens. I see Lucy come through the gate along with whom I presume is her son. She looks different out of the water. Her blonde hair is tied up in a bun and she is wearing a yellow sundress. She walks with poise and elegance and heads into the changing room.
I don’t want to appear too eager so I turn and push off and begin my fifty lengths. I’m on the third length when I feel a splash beside me and I see a glimpse of blonde and teal as Lucy, mermaid-like in her teal swimsuit, swims alongside.
We swim in sync, touching the walls and turning as one. As we begin the final length she glances across, a glint in her eye challenging me to race. I power off, legs kicking, arms powering through the water. I lift my head as I touch the wall to find her there before me. She grins and rests her elbow on the side of the pool, drawing in lungfuls of air.
I lean in beside her and laugh. I laugh for what feels like the first time in ages.
“Would you like some lunch?” She raises an eyebrow as she turns to look at me. “There’s a lovely little pub we discovered the other day.”
My face falls. “I can’t,” I stammer. “Not today. But how about tomorrow? I could be free then?”
“Tomorrow then,” she smiles. “It’s a date.”
She slips below the water and with a flash of blonde, she swims off.
I speak to Dorris when I get home and she happily agrees to stay longer, telling me it is good to get out of the house now and again for more than just swimming.
After our swim the next day, Lucy is waiting for me outside the changing rooms. She smiles and heads to her car. I follow her to a sporty-looking blue Mini, open the passenger door and get in whilst she goes around the other side and climbs in behind the wheel.
“Right, let’s go.” and with a rumble of tyres on gravel, she heads off at speed. I expect her to pull up somewhere on the high street but instead, we head out of town and within minutes are driving along country lanes.
She drives fast but appears confident and in control the whole time. I can feel her watching me and I have to consciously not grip the door handle. I don’t know why, but I wonder if this is a test somehow. I watch stone walls rush past, praying a tractor doesn’t emerge from one of the fields. I breathe a sigh of relief when she skids to a halt outside a country pub.
“Well, it’s remote,” I observe.
“Don’t stray from the path,” she giggles and I look around to check the pub isn’t actually called ‘The slaughtered lamb.”
It’s not too busy and we settle ourselves in a corner and peruse the menus.
“OK,” she starts. “I told you I’m in a loveless marriage. What’s your story?” Her eyes drop to indicate my wedding ring.
I take a deep breath and unburden everything. I don’t mean to. I meant to give her the usual edited 12A-rated version. Instead, I go over everything. The happy marriage. The excitement of the pregnancy test. The icy road as Sandie drove to a pregnancy yoga class. The phone call at work. How I thought I’d lost everything until she woke up. How she’s never really woke up. How she's not really there and how my life is in stasis.
She doesn’t say anything. She sits and listens and as I finish, her fingers entwine in mine and she grips my hand. She squeezes it gently. She’s just about to speak when the waitress arrives with our order. Shepherds pie for both with a pint of IPA for me and a glass of Diet Coke for her.
The conversation changes. We talk about the food, the other customers in the bar, and the joys of swimming. Finally, when the knives and forks are laid on empty plates, she picks up her glass.
“Would you like to have sex with me?”
She takes a sip of my drink, watching me struggle to formulate an answer.
“You mean now?”
“Now, yes. And, depending on how it goes, maybe later as well.”
I swallow and can feel my face burning as a blush rises.
“They have rooms here too. I already booked one. She pulls a key out of her bag. I checked in while you were in the bathroom.”
I slowly nod. My mind reeling.
“We don’t have to do anything. But I’d like to spend some time getting to know you.”
“I’d better get the bill then,”
She’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs when I turn from the bar. I follow, watching her ass sway seductively in the red sundress. She has great legs, swimmer's legs. Shapely calves and toned thighs.
She opens the door and steps aside to let me enter first. The door closes and by the time I turn, her dress is around her ankles. The white bra and panties are lined with lace and for the first time, she blushes self-consciously.