by Kate Field
‘Should I ring for an ambulance?’ Another woman appeared and studied Mim – a younger woman, aged around forty, also wearing a wetsuit. Hers was dry.
‘What do you think?’ the first woman asked Mim. ‘How do you feel? Do you want to be checked out?’
‘No.’ Mim didn’t want to make a fuss or to shatter the peace of the morning by bringing an ambulance screaming through the village. ‘I’m fine. Thank you.’ Her words trailed off on a shiver.
‘You’re cold. Do you think you can walk? Take her other arm, Heather, and let’s get her back to the camper to warm up.’
Without waiting for a reply, the two women took one arm each and hoisted Mim to her feet. She stumbled and coughed again – her legs felt boneless and her lungs ached – but she managed to stay upright. They staggered slowly across the beach towards her bag of clothes, and Heather, the younger of her two rescuers, picked it up and wrapped Mim in her towel before they carried on back up the path to the village car park. Every step felt like a marathon to Mim and she hadn’t stopped shivering, even with the towel.
A racing-green VW camper van was parked at the far side of the car park, and the women helped Mim towards it. The gravel of the car park jabbed into the soles of her feet. The older woman unlocked the door, climbed inside, and drew the curtains across the windows.
‘There you go,’ she said, gesturing for Mim to enter the van. ‘Go in and get dry and dressed. Can you manage on your own?’
Mim nodded. She took her bag from Heather and stepped into the camper van. She stripped off her wet swimming costume and threw it in the washing up bowl, then rubbed vigorously with the towel, trying to generate some heat. Her limbs still felt cold and clammy as she pulled her clothes back on. She was just struggling to pull her socks over her numb toes when the door slid open.
‘Are you decent?’ The older woman peered in. ‘Budge up on to the driver’s seat a minute. I need to get this wetsuit off.’ She paused. ‘I’m Karen, by the way, and that’s Heather outside. It seems polite to exchange names before you see me in the buff.’
‘I’m Mim.’ She scrambled across the tiny floorspace to the driver’s seat, which was rotated to face the interior of the van. Karen peeled off her wetsuit and threw it out of the open door before getting dressed. She opened a deep drawer that was concealed beneath a bench seat and took out a couple of blankets. She passed one to Mim and wrapped the other round her own shoulders.
‘Here. Wrap yourself in that. I’ll make you some tea.’
Karen produced an old-fashioned singing kettle and placed it on the small gas hob that formed part of the kitchenette running down one side of the van. As she opened the curtains, and Heather stepped in and slid the door shut, Mim took a proper look at her surroundings. It was a compact space but well kitted out, and gorgeously decorated. The upholstery was covered in luscious green velvet to match the exterior, and the kitchen cupboards were painted with a glossy cream coating and finished with gold handles. The colour scheme was reflected in the cushions and curtains as well as the rug on the floor. It was a wonderful, cosy space. Mim couldn’t help a pang of envy. This would have made a perfect place to sleep in instead of the Volvo.
Karen handed round three mugs of tea and then sat on the bench seat next to Heather, facing Mim.
‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ Karen said. ‘Did I stop you or save you?’
‘Stop me…? Oh!’ Mim took a moment to realise what Karen meant. ‘No, it was an accident. Of course I didn’t mean to…’ She shook her head and sipped her tea. It seemed to be half sugar, but she drank it gratefully, feeling the warmth returning to her limbs at last. ‘I would never do that.’
‘Good. In that case, you can have a biscuit.’ Karen opened a kitchen cupboard and pulled out a packet of chocolate biscuits and offered it round. ‘Life’s precious to both of us. We don’t like to see it wasted.’
For the first time, Karen smiled, and the atmosphere in the camper van relaxed; concern took over from the tension that Mim had hardly registered before.
‘I’m sorry I ruined your swim,’ Mim said, looking at Heather.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ She smiled. ‘This is our first time back after the Christmas break. I wasn’t sure I could face the cold again. Now I can feel pleased with myself without having got wet. It’s win-win.’
Mim’s laugh turned into another cough.
‘Do you swim here regularly?’ she asked, when the cough subsided.
‘Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday,’ Karen said. ‘I’ve been doing it for a year now and Heather … what is it? Four?’
‘Just over.’ Heather nodded. ‘I started five months after we lost Carmel.’ She looked at Mim. ‘My daughter died of meningitis when she was two. I needed to get away from the house with all its reminders and do something that was physically and mentally exhausting. That probably sounds silly but it worked. It kept me sane.’
‘And I started about a year ago,’ Karen said. ‘Similar reasons. My partner, Susie, had been diagnosed with breast cancer. She was going through hell and I couldn’t make it better. I needed some time to myself, selfish though it sounds. Swimming was a way to get rid of my frustration and fear. I could then appear strong in front of Susie.’
‘I met Karen on the beach one day, cursing at the sky.’ Heather laughed. ‘We’ve been friends ever since and now we swim together. Friends who swim together, stay together.’
They squeezed hands and the strength of the bond between them was obvious to Mim even though she’d never experienced anything like it herself. She had no friends, not the way these two were. Growing up, she’d never stayed in one place long enough to form close ties, and working all hours in the hotel had left no time for friendships. She hadn’t missed it, because she hadn’t realised what it meant, not until now. Perhaps this new life could bring new friendship? She wished it would.
‘How is Susie doing?’ she asked Karen.
‘Well. She’s finished the course of treatment and the prognosis is good.’ Karen put her mug down on the kitchen worktop. ‘So what’s your story? You’re not from round here any more than I am. I’m Derbyshire but I reckon you’re further north. Lancashire?’
‘Yes. I’ve always lived there. I only arrived here a few days ago.’
‘Have you brought your family with you?’ Heather asked.
‘I don’t have any family.’
‘No children?’ Karen said. ‘You’re young. There’s plenty of time to decide if that’s what you want.’
‘No family at all,’ Mim said. Karen and Heather both stared at her, looking aghast. Perhaps they imagined some horrific accident had wiped them all out. It was much less dramatic than that. Although she didn’t dwell on the past, she didn’t think it fair to conceal it now, when these women had shared far worse stories with her.
‘I was brought up in care,’ Mim explained. ‘I never knew my dad and I was taken away from my mum when I was eight. She had a history of violent relationships and couldn’t keep me safe. I lived in a series of foster homes and care homes until I was moved to a hostel when I was eighteen.’
‘You poor soul,’ Heather said, and she took a couple of steps across the camper and gave Mim a brief half-hug. ‘Where’s your mum now?’
‘I don’t know. She abandoned any attempt to keep in touch years ago.’ Mim met the women’s looks of pity and smiled. ‘Don’t feel sorry for me. I was rescued from a bad situation. I kept my head down, worked hard, and didn’t get into trouble. And then ten years ago I was given a second chance by an amazing man who didn’t care about the past and who gave me stability for the first time in my life. It all worked out for the best.’
‘The best?’ Karen repeated. ‘I’m not sure I could be so sanguine about it.’
‘Come swimming with us,’ Heather said. She inched forward on her bench seat until her knees were almost touching Mim’s. ‘Be part of our little group. If you want to, I mean. We swim for a while and then come back here for a cup of tea a
nd a chat. It helps.’
‘Are you sure?’ Mim asked. She couldn’t think of anything she’d like more. ‘You two have been through terrible things. I don’t want to get in the way.’
‘You won’t,’ Karen said. ‘We’ve suffered because we have people we love. I’d take that pain any day over having no one to love at all. You’re more than qualified to join us.’
Chapter Six
It was like old times again when Mim heard an abrupt bang on the caravan door on Thursday morning. At least it didn’t wake her up this time. She’d invested in the cheapest alarm clock she could find and it had done the job of waking her up in perfect time to have her breakfast before going to the village shop for her first day of work.
She was surprised to see Corin on her doorstep, wearing his scruffy old coat teamed with what looked like an expensive cashmere scarf. Dickens trotted in and jumped onto the sofa where he sat and stared at Mim. Corin stared at her from where he stood outside.
‘Is something the matter?’ she asked. ‘I’m in the middle of breakfast. Don’t forget I’m on probation with Janet. I can’t be late on my first day.’
‘From what I hear, you almost didn’t make your first day at all,’ he said.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I warned you not to go swimming on your own.’
‘Urgh.’ Mim sank down on to her chair, and scooped up a spoonful of porridge. She couldn’t face this on an empty stomach. ‘Have you tramped over here to say I told you so? That’s such an annoying habit.’
‘Not as annoying as someone who deliberately ignores good advice.’
Mim swallowed her porridge.
‘I didn’t ignore it. I was going to ask Lia to come with me but she’s on holiday. Didn’t you know that?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s impossible to keep up with her social diary. There are other people besides Lia in the world.’
‘Not in my world. I didn’t know anyone else. Apart from Janet, I suppose, but I think it’s too early in our relationship to invite her on a swimming date.’
‘She’d scare the current away.’ Corin laughed grudgingly but stopped when Mim gave a throaty cough, a lingering symptom of her immersion yesterday; she’d tried to hold it in but hadn’t managed it. Corin pulled out some sheets of paper from his coat pocket and tossed them on the table in front of Mim. ‘Here. I’ve printed out some details about the swimming pool in Sidmouth. It’s not that expensive if you only want to swim and it would be safer.’
Mim carried on eating her porridge while she read the information. She must have been fairly close to the pool when she went shopping, so she knew it wasn’t too far away, and it looked a similar set up to the leisure centre she had used in Burnley. But … Gordon had given her the membership in Burnley for her birthday last year. She’d have to pay for this one herself. Corin had a very different idea of ‘not that expensive’ than she did.
‘Thanks, but I can’t afford it,’ she said, folding the pages back up and sliding them towards Corin. ‘The monthly membership would buy me food for at least a week.’
‘Okay.’ Corin made no move to pick up the sheets again. ‘I’ll pay for your membership.’
‘Why would you do that?’
He sighed.
‘Don’t sound so suspicious. Can’t we say it’s because I’m a kind and generous soul and want you to stay alive?’
Mim pushed her chair back and took her bowl over to the sink. She filled it up with water to soak.
‘You mean because you’re rich,’ she said, turning at last. ‘It’s easy to be kind and generous when you won’t even notice the money leaving your account.’
‘You don’t mince words, do you?’
‘What’s the point?’ Mim said. ‘You can hardly deny how rich you are. You live in an enormous house. You holiday in places like the Maldives. You drive cars that cost as much as a house where I’m from. I don’t know why you pretend to be something you’re not by wearing a scruffy coat and shoes.’
‘I don’t pretend to be anything. You’re talking about my family, not me.’ Corin looked down at himself. ‘And I happen to like this coat. It’s covered my back through some tough times.’
Tough times? Mim wondered how tough his life had ever been; had he once had to drink fizzy wine instead of Champagne?
‘Look, I get that you mean well,’ she said, ‘but I’ve already told you I don’t want to be treated as a charity case. I have a job – if I ever manage to get to it. I can pay my own way for anything I need. Membership of a swimming pool is a luxury I don’t need, especially when the sea is free. But thanks for looking into it,’ she added, thinking that she may have sounded too ungrateful. They came from such different worlds. He’d probably been brought up to believe that money was the answer to everything. She knew that hard work and a lot of luck were the real answers.
‘Fine,’ Corin said. ‘If you won’t accept my charity, what about my company? I’ll go swimming with you.’
‘You?’
He smiled.
‘Was that an enthusiastic yes? Just checking in case I misunderstood your accent.’
Mim grinned. He was persistent, she had to give him credit for that.
‘You don’t need to bother,’ she said. ‘I met two women on the beach and we’ve arranged to swim together. You can use the free time to go clothes shopping.’ He laughed. ‘Now I’ve really got to go. If Janet sacks me for being late, I’ll be heading straight to your door with my begging bowl.’
‘I thought you weren’t coming,’ Janet said, as she unlocked the door for Mim.
‘I’m ten minutes early,’ Mim pointed out. She’d waited in the car for five minutes, worried she might annoy Janet if she turned up too early so it was galling to face criticism.
‘You start your shift at eight. I need to train you before you can do the job properly and start earning money.’ Janet stood back to let Mim enter the shop. ‘I’ll have to dock your wages for the first hour. I’m not paying while you’re learning. It’s not a good start, is it?’
It wasn’t, and Mim gritted her teeth and made a mental note to arrive at the pub half an hour early that evening in case training was needed there too. She had a horrible suspicion that Janet had deliberately not told her about the required training to put her on the back foot. Besides, what training could there possibly be? How to spot the difference between a tin of peas and a tin of carrots?
Forty minutes later, Mim had discovered that the training consisted of a brief introduction to the till and the slicing machine, and the delivery of a lengthy list of rules. These were varied and extensive: no giving away samples of cheese; no letting customers off the correct money, even for a penny; no more than three unaccompanied children in the shop at one time; names and addresses to be taken from any child who ate a sweet while filling a bag at the pick ‘n’ mix; more than three visits to the toilet each day would be viewed with suspicion. Janet had thought of everything.
‘Will we both be working in the shop at the same time?’ Mim asked, when Janet had finally exhausted the regulations. She hoped not. She liked plain talking but Janet might test that to the limit.
‘I’ll be observing for a few days to see how you get on.’ Janet heaved herself onto the stool behind the counter. ‘You won’t be on your own until I’m satisfied you’re a hard worker. Don’t forget you’re on trial.’
It was a long morning. There was a steady flow of customers in the shop and Mim would have enjoyed it if Janet hadn’t been there, scratching away with her pencil and paper as she made a note of something Mim had done wrong.
‘You chatted too long to Mrs Windsor,’ was Janet’s first complaint. ‘She’ll not stop once you give her an opening. You can’t risk a queue forming.’
‘The man who bought that map was probably a tourist,’ was the next comment. ‘You should have upsold some fudge or biscuits.’
‘You need to be more careful when cutting a piece of cheese.’
Mim had bitte
n her tongue at a lot of the feedback, but she couldn’t let this last one go.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘The customer wanted 250g and I cut 246g. I thought that was pretty good for my first go.’
‘It was under. You never cut under. You’ll find you can go over by up to ten per cent and the customer will still buy it. I didn’t get where I am by giving away easy profit like that.’
In the thirty minute break she was allowed for lunch, Mim wandered down to the beach and let the sea breeze blow away the clouds of frustration that hung over her shoulders. The job was straightforward and she was enjoying meeting more of the villagers, but Janet was testing her patience already. Unfortunately, she needed the money too desperately to do anything but nod and bite back a sigh as Janet picked her up on some other spurious pretext or insisted on checking the change she was giving a customer for the umpteenth time. Mim couldn’t wait to make it through her probation period and lose her chaperone.
In the middle of the afternoon, a man in his early thirties came into the shop, browsed around and then dumped a pile of biscuit packets on the counter next to the till. He was wearing muddy trousers and, despite the cold weather, a T-shirt which showed off the huge muscles in his arms. Blond hair framed an attractive face that still boasted a slight tan.
‘Hello,’ he said, giving Mim a friendly smile. ‘You’re not Janet.’
‘Well spotted.’ Janet was on a bathroom break; she was apparently allowed more than three each day but Mim wasn’t complaining as it gave her at least ten minutes without scrutiny. ‘Do you want her? She’ll be back in a minute.’
‘No.’ He shuddered. ‘Are you Mim?’
‘Yes. How do you know that?’
‘The accent. We don’t hear many northern ones down here, not out of holiday season. I’m Bobby. You met my sister Heather yesterday.’
‘Heather the swimmer? Yes, I did.’ Mim smiled and then realised that Bobby was likely to have heard the story about her disastrous swimming attempt if he’d spoken about her with Heather. ‘It’s all a bit embarrassing. I was lucky she arrived with Karen when she did.’
