Page 4 of Swim To Me

Maybe if I just try to recreate the movement, my body will be able to get the hang of it again within seconds? Muscle memory and all.

Sticking to the side, I flatten my feet to the smooth floor below, peering down into the moving liquid at the azure blue tiles there, giving the impression of a blue toned hue to the water.

My body temperature, thankfully, seems to have adjusted to the much cooler surroundings, ceasing the shivers wracking my body, but I can still feel the goosebumps coming up over the tops of my arms.

Shifting from foot to foot, I try to gauge the newfound weightlessness of my body, dropping further down into the water, as another swimmer slices past me, causing more water to lap, this time at the tendrils of hair that have escaped my bun and are hanging down my neck.

Everybody here seems to be swimming so effortlessly, graciously cutting through the water.

Switching my weight to my less dominant left foot, I peer up at the clock, finding it to be only five minutes past the hour. I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve been standing in the shallow end, not really moving, except for a small bob about as I test the water around me, but God, I really hope nobody has noticed me.

The brown haired lifeguard catches my gaze again, this time with a beaming smile already painted across his lips.

Again, I smile back. I can’t help it! The stereotypical British politeness has practically been bred into me, and I’d feel rudenot to at least acknowledge the very man who might potentially need to come and save my life.

A flush of something hot cascades over me leaving my scalp tingling as I realise, he must have been watching me simply stand in the pool, rather than actually swimming.

How embarrassing.

God, this was exactly why I don’t like asking people for help, because now he’s watching me, probably muttering behind my back, or at the very least thinking how silly I–

A loudsplashechoes off the tiled space, right down at the deepest end of the pool. A small child, bright orange arm bands attached to either upper arm, bobs to the surface, laughing hysterically, as the water all around froths from the force of their jump.

Right, that’s it.

If a small child can do it, arm bands or not, then I bloody well can.

With one more deep breath, I spread my arms right out in front of me, straighten my legs, tilt my chin upwards so it won’t dip in the water, and begin to kick.

Loud splashing sounds behind me and the tops of my feet are already suddenly pricked with pain, as my flesh makes solid contact with the water. It feels as if I’m whacking against rock hard blocks of ice each time, but at least I’m being propelled forward. My elbows, somehow, have tucked themselves back into my chest, the palms of my hands making contact with the water, causing bubbles to froth and foam all around.

I feel like a dog paddling around.

Hopefully, I don’t look like one.

The rounded side of my hip grazes the second set of metal stairs leading into the halfway point of the pool as I pass them by, but I pay the small graze of pain no attention as the furthest end of the pool comes closer and closer.

I’m doing it!

Sensing somebody come up behind me, I don’t dare glance around in case I lose my stride. Rather, I paddle faster, vehemently ignoring the dull ache now starting up in both of my calves and the sharp scratch pulsing on my hip.

When I realise I’m holding my breath, I gulp in a heavily chlorine scented pull of oxygen, which quickly turns into a strainedoofas a wet body collides with mine.

A voice speaks out an apology, but it sounds completely garbled as water fills my ears. I can feel my legs still kicking out beneath me, but I’m tiring now, each part of my body aching from the sudden exercise.

Panic fills me like a balloon, the cold water surging over my head, submerging me fully. I try to open my mouth to scream, but all that does is allow chemical tasting water to slide in, choking me.

Heartbeat sounding loud in my ears, I begin to thrash, desperately trying to reach the surface to suck in fresh air, to—

Pinpricks of pain cascade along my temple as I collide with the tiled wall. My body stops flailing, as I close my stinging eyes against the pain, swallowing down another mouthful of—

“–up you get!”

Somebody grips the flesh of my armpits tightly, dumping me heavily onto a solid, grooved material.

The warmth of somebody’s hands seeps through my soaked bathing costume, as they manoeuvre me on to my side, lifting my head and rolling something under it, before placing my head back down. A cough wracks my convulsing body, followed by another and another; until all I can do is hold on tight to the warm arms in front of me, and wait for the retching to stop.

Feeling returns to me bit by bit; first in my toes and fingers, then in my lower body, chest and lastly my head. The world has stopped ringing enough for me to register the item beneath myhead as a rolled-up towel to prevent the hard floor from digging into my skull.

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