Thrown In The Deep End
A Short Story
Rose stood outside the P.E block with the rest of her class, shivering in the dim light of early December morning. She hugged her bag stuffed with her kit, hoping she hadn’t forgotten anything. Their teacher, Miss Allen, had gone to get the key ages ago. In the cold the minutes dragged their heels.
“Why do we have to go swimming in winter?” Katy Ellis whined, encouraging the others to join in complaining. Rose was relieved when Miss Allen rounded the corner, key in hand. At least it would be warmer inside.
“Right girls in, earrings out and costumes on quickly.”
One after another they shuffled in, rushing to claim a space on the narrow benches by plopping their kit down. Rose put her blazer on one of the metal hooks and stepped out of her shoes. She frantically peeled off her clothes as her teacher's voice boomed through the changing room, reminding them to hurry up. Her friends carefully shielded themselves with their towels as they slid into costumes underneath. Rose shivered as the draft touched her bare skin. More than once she nearly dropped her towel and caught it just in time. Ready ahead of the others, she brushed her chestnut coloured hair into a bun, snapped her rubber swim hat in place and waited by the pool door. She was eager to get through her first lesson. Her stomach had been emitting a low drawing pain all morning that made her tummy pinch and her appetite for breakfast disappear.
They followed Miss Allen around the edge of the pool and sat with their legs in the water as instructed. Rose relaxed a little as the cool water lapped at her knees. She listened to the hum of electric lights overhead. The pool room was wall to wall white tiles. The smell of chlorine was emitted from soggy pool noodles discarded from a previous lesson. Rose was first to kick off and demonstrate the backstroke. Miss Allen’s voice echoed around her, muffled by the swim cap and the whoosh of the water as she kicked her legs. She watched the ceiling lights fly past her as she straightened her back and threw her arms back in a sweeping arch until her head bumped the pool wall.
“Nicely done Rose! Katy you next. Push off strong.”
Half an hour flew by as the lesson got going. The girls that had whinged about having to swim now cut through the water with confidence and had to admit (if only to themselves) that they were having fun. Rose had stopped having fun when the pain in her stomach became crippling, making her stop to tread water and call out to the teacher.
“Miss I feel sick! I don’t think I’m well.”
Miss Allen frowned. Rose never caused any trouble and her attendance was fair so she decided to believe her.
“Go and change, I’ll tell reception to call your parents.”
Rose mumbled her thanks and lifted herself out of the pool, tiptoeing quickly through puddles of cold water and into the changing room. She rushed to her bag and retrieved her towel before heading to the showers. In the hot water she took slow breaths, relieved to have some time to herself before the others crowded in. She pulled off her swim cap, wincing as it clung to her hair which flopped out damp, smelling of chemicals and baby powder. Wrapping the towel around her she reached for her bag, and gasped. Below her waist her blue towel from home boasted a blooming stain, shocking red. Voices from the pool room grew louder as the lesson came to an end. In a panic, she dug in her bag for the emergency supplies her mum had given her weeks ago “just in case.” Frantically pulling on her clothes, she wrapped her costume in her towel and stuffed it into her swim bag just in time. Miss Allen returned, followed by the class. Rose made her way to the office, tucking her bag protectively behind her. On the car ride home her mum gently prodded her with questions.
“Was it something you ate?”
“Did you feel sick before swimming?”
“Do you think you could manage a sandwich when we get home?”
Rose shook her head at all of these, dodging her mum’s hand when it felt her forehead for fever. At dinner she picked her food apart. She was watching tv in her room when her mum came upstairs and asked the one question she’d been dreading.
“Where’s your swim kit? I need to fling it in the wash.” She spied it in the corner of the room.
“Why would you leave this in your-” she broke off holding the stained towel.
“Oh Rosie, why didn’t you tell me?” She crossed the room and pulled Rose into a hug. Rose burst into tears, which her mum swiftly wiped away.
“Listen. Take a hot bath. I’ll get everything you need.”
Sniffling, Rose thanked her and when her bath was over, she found her warmest pyjamas folded outside the door, topped with a hot water-bottle and a packet of pain relief.
Later her mum shared horror stories of her own and joked as they curled up in front of one of their favourite films. The next day, they took her calendar off the wall and together, marked the appropriate days.
“This way, you won’t get caught out again” Her mum smiled.
