Read Online Butterfly Summer by Anne-Marie Conway - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anne-Marie Conway
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he comes to the games, and I see him whenever I go swimming.”
My head snapped back up. Not someone else who was mad on swimming!
“He works at the leisure centre in Farnsbury,” he went on. “You should come with me next time. I can get you in for free.”
“You’re alright,” I said. “Come on, we should be getting back.” My palms were slick with sweat. I don’t know what it was about Oakbridge, but it seemed as if everyone was obsessed with swimming. First Rosa May and now Mack. Either that or it was just too hot for anyone to imagine doing anything else.
“You’re not turning me down, are you?” said Mack as we made our way out of the woods and back to the green. “It’s the hottest summer on record, ever , and I’m offering you free entry to a great swimming pool and you’re turning me down ?” He put his hands together, pleading. “Seriously, Becky – I’m going on Thursday with a couple of mates and I need you there to make sure they don’t splash me.”
“Very funny,” I said, but I couldn’t help smiling.
“So you’ll come then? Go on, it’ll be a laugh.”
What was I supposed to say? That I’d never been to a swimming pool in my life? That I was terrified of water? That I wanted to learn how to swim more than anything in the whole world?
I nodded and shrugged and shook my head all at the same time.
“Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
My excitement about meeting Mack faded pretty quickly. The more I thought about the time we’d spent together, the more uneasy I felt. It was one thing wandering around Oakbridge, or playing noughts and crosses in his den, but the idea of going swimming, and with a load of his friends, made me want to run a mile in the opposite direction. It’s not just that I can’t swim, it’s more this feeling I get whenever I’m near water that something terrible is going to happen.
I lay in bed that night, trying to work out why I was so scared. It’s not as if anything bad had ever happened to me. Not around water anyway. We never went on holiday to the beach and Mum never took me for lessons, but I guess somewhere along the line she must’ve passed her own fear on to me.
In Year Three the rest of my class drove off in a coach every Wednesday afternoon to the local swimming pool – but for some reason I was always excused. I don’t know how Mum persuaded them to let me stay behind. I just remember sitting in another class doing a load of boring worksheets while my friends trooped off together, thrilled to be escaping school for a couple of hours.
It suddenly seemed very important to find out why Mum wouldn’t let me learn to swim. I’d never questioned it before, but if I’d gone to the lessons back then, I’d be able to swim in the lake with Rosa May and hang out at the pool with Mack – normal things that other people seemed to take for granted. What did Mum actually say to my teacher to convince her I should be allowed to miss swimming every week for a whole year? I decided to ask her in the morning, first thing. She might refuse to talk about the past, especially when it came to my dad, but surely this was something she could help me to understand.
I fell into a deep sleep. In my dreams, I was away camping with my dad and we’d built the most brilliant fire. It was blistering hot, sparks flying everywhere, the heat and smoke making my eyes sting. I was so happy I could’ve stayed there for ever – but at some point Dad went off to find more wood for the fire. I sat there all alone, the dark closing in on me. I waited for hours, until the fire had burned down to nothing – but he didn’t come back. It was as if the night had swallowed him whole.
I woke to the sound of Mum pottering about in the kitchen. I got dressed as fast as I could, determined to ask her about the swimming lessons, but as I was coming downstairs she called out that she was leaving and I heard the door slam shut behind her. I stood
My head snapped back up. Not someone else who was mad on swimming!
“He works at the leisure centre in Farnsbury,” he went on. “You should come with me next time. I can get you in for free.”
“You’re alright,” I said. “Come on, we should be getting back.” My palms were slick with sweat. I don’t know what it was about Oakbridge, but it seemed as if everyone was obsessed with swimming. First Rosa May and now Mack. Either that or it was just too hot for anyone to imagine doing anything else.
“You’re not turning me down, are you?” said Mack as we made our way out of the woods and back to the green. “It’s the hottest summer on record, ever , and I’m offering you free entry to a great swimming pool and you’re turning me down ?” He put his hands together, pleading. “Seriously, Becky – I’m going on Thursday with a couple of mates and I need you there to make sure they don’t splash me.”
“Very funny,” I said, but I couldn’t help smiling.
“So you’ll come then? Go on, it’ll be a laugh.”
What was I supposed to say? That I’d never been to a swimming pool in my life? That I was terrified of water? That I wanted to learn how to swim more than anything in the whole world?
I nodded and shrugged and shook my head all at the same time.
“Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
My excitement about meeting Mack faded pretty quickly. The more I thought about the time we’d spent together, the more uneasy I felt. It was one thing wandering around Oakbridge, or playing noughts and crosses in his den, but the idea of going swimming, and with a load of his friends, made me want to run a mile in the opposite direction. It’s not just that I can’t swim, it’s more this feeling I get whenever I’m near water that something terrible is going to happen.
I lay in bed that night, trying to work out why I was so scared. It’s not as if anything bad had ever happened to me. Not around water anyway. We never went on holiday to the beach and Mum never took me for lessons, but I guess somewhere along the line she must’ve passed her own fear on to me.
In Year Three the rest of my class drove off in a coach every Wednesday afternoon to the local swimming pool – but for some reason I was always excused. I don’t know how Mum persuaded them to let me stay behind. I just remember sitting in another class doing a load of boring worksheets while my friends trooped off together, thrilled to be escaping school for a couple of hours.
It suddenly seemed very important to find out why Mum wouldn’t let me learn to swim. I’d never questioned it before, but if I’d gone to the lessons back then, I’d be able to swim in the lake with Rosa May and hang out at the pool with Mack – normal things that other people seemed to take for granted. What did Mum actually say to my teacher to convince her I should be allowed to miss swimming every week for a whole year? I decided to ask her in the morning, first thing. She might refuse to talk about the past, especially when it came to my dad, but surely this was something she could help me to understand.
I fell into a deep sleep. In my dreams, I was away camping with my dad and we’d built the most brilliant fire. It was blistering hot, sparks flying everywhere, the heat and smoke making my eyes sting. I was so happy I could’ve stayed there for ever – but at some point Dad went off to find more wood for the fire. I sat there all alone, the dark closing in on me. I waited for hours, until the fire had burned down to nothing – but he didn’t come back. It was as if the night had swallowed him whole.
I woke to the sound of Mum pottering about in the kitchen. I got dressed as fast as I could, determined to ask her about the swimming lessons, but as I was coming downstairs she called out that she was leaving and I heard the door slam shut behind her. I stood
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