Against the Tide

by John Hanley

  Fifteen yards to go and the high wall loomed in front of us. Now! I kicked hard, took a deep breath and signalled full speed to my arms. I felt my body rise and I stretched as far as I could before catching and powering my forearms back to my sides. The wall filled my horizon and, with lungs bursting, pulse pounding in my ears, I reached for the smooth surface. I sensed a shadow sweep past on my left before my hand slammed into the unyielding concrete and I stopped dead. I’d left it too late.

  Gasping and wheezing, I clung onto the wall, aware of the timekeepers crouching above me. I pushed off and paddled back a few yards, conscious now of the tumult in the crowd. I knew I’d lost. I turned to look at Kohler, who was hanging on his lane rope. The Dutchman reached out his hand to shake mine. Our fingers touched. Fletcher and the petty officer were also shaking hands.

  I looked up at the recorder’s desk. There was a heated conversation taking place. Three timekeepers and my lane judge were arguing with Mr Brewster. I looked back at the turn. There was no red flag so I hadn’t been disqualified.

  I trod water, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Miko had been right again – too much thinking. I didn’t want to leave the water – wanted to swim away to the far wall and slip over into the rising tide. I’d let him down. I didn’t know what I feared most – the sorrowful shake of Miko’s head or the arrogant smirk on Kohler’s face. I was trapped. I would have to hide my disappointment from the crowd with a brave smile. I practised beaming at the wall while we waited for the starter to release us. It seemed to be taking a long time.

  Phillips got a signal from the table and waddled towards us. I was sure he was scowling at me.

  ‘Competitors, please leave by the steps.’

  I was closest so ducked under the rope and swam underwater, grateful for the coolness on my overheated face. I emerged and climbed the short flight to stand behind the officials.

  The loudspeakers burst into life. ‘Your Excellency, Lieutenant Commander McKillop, Mr Hayden-Brown, ladies and gentlemen, the result of the one hundred yards freestyle race. First, in a new “All Comers” record time of fifty-three and one tenth of a second – Mr Kohler.’ The crowd gasped at the time, which was seconds faster than anyone had ever swum before in this pool. I held my breath – I hadn’t been that far behind. I must have broken my personal best at least. Brewster waited for the applause to subside. ‘Second, in a Jersey Swimming Club, Island, Channel Islands, and Southern Counties record time of fifty-three and seven tenths seconds, Jack Renouf.’

  The roar from the crowd drowned the rest of the results. I was stunned. I had broken the minute by over six seconds. My eyes stung from more than the salt. Hands slapped my shoulders and Brewster left his table to congratulate me. I felt dazed.

  Saul stepped through the crowd and hugged me, careless of the salt water on his linen suit. He took his hat off and placed it on my head, grabbed my wrist and waved my arm aloft. I followed the line of his arm and saw Grumpy standing in the front row of the lookout. Our eyes met and he smiled – gave me the thumbs up sign. I guessed he believed I had heeded his advice and thrown the race. I looked around. How many more believed that I had put discretion before valour? If only they knew that I had given everything I had to beat him. Kohler would know and that was punishment enough.

  I’d broken all the records and had now qualified for the Southern Counties Olympic training programme. I should be overjoyed but instead I felt angry with myself. In all the tumult, I had missed the rest of the results. I lowered our arms and looked at Saul.

  ‘How far behind was I?’

  ‘A touch.’ Saul retrieved his hat and poked it in my face as a reminder. ‘You were pulling ahead though – another few feet and there would have been clear water between you. You thrashed that sod Fletcher, that’s the main thing. Come on, I’ll buy you a Coke.’

  He steered me up the steep steps to the terrace, basking in the reflected praise being heaped on me by the spectators. Coming second wasn’t so bad after all.

  I couldn’t see Caroline but supposed she was by the diving boards congratulating her Dutchman. I didn’t care.

  I hadn’t seen Rachel, though, and worried that she might not turn up. She should have been at work that morning. Malita had promised to explain everything to her. Before I’d left, I’d begged both of them not to frighten her and not to mention the gun. I was worried that Fred might do something irrational and began to understand my father’s concern.

  I’d missed the bus again and Fred walked me back to retrieve Boadicea before taking me home. After that manic ride, I didn’t want to sit on that pillion for some time. In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see too much of Fred in the near future. I had enough problems of my own to deal with. At least the race was out of the way. I should have felt elated but I was empty inside, drained after the last few days.

  I was pleased that Saul was talking to me again. If only Rachel would arrive soon, I would feel a lot happier. Thursday was half-day closing so she should have been here by now. I looked along the bridge but it was empty. Miko would also be waiting for her. I suspected that most of the club members were looking forward to her confrontation with Caroline, even more than they had wanted to see me beat Fletcher.

  19

  I was still in a daze. My body, striving to recover the energy debt, reduced the flow of blood to my head, making me feel faint and weak. Saul was also concerned about Rachel and tried to quiz me about her absence. My explanation that she might have had a row with her father didn’t convince him. The cola was a mistake and I had to hurry off. My stomach, which had suffered such torment, finally conceded defeat and I retched in the toilet.

  Cookie found me there, picked me up, threw me under the shower, dried me off then led me down to watch the rest of the swimming.

  Saul had disappeared.

  Cookie wrapped a towel round my head and forced me to struggle into my tracksuit for, despite the heat, I was still shivering.

  Miko stopped me and tapped my temple. Then he hugged me and slapped my back. If his smile had been any wider, his face would have split apart. He tapped his watch and asked if I had seen Rachel. I shrugged and he gave me one of his Romanian looks.

  Cookie dragged me away, dumped me next to Joan Le Marquand and asked her to keep an eye on me. Joan was a good friend. Competing for Great Britain, she’d come tenth, three years before, in the Olympic high board championship in Berlin. Joan hugged me, excited by my record.

  We watched the rest of the races together. I was in no condition to take part in the relay and Nelson didn’t call for me. Even though we had loaned them some of our better swimmers, the navy team were no match for us and that part of the contest ended in a decisive win.

  The diving was next and still there was no sign of Rachel. Caroline, who had ignored me so far and spent the afternoon with the Dutchman, would be defending her cup, donated by her father, in the three-metre springboard section.

  As the foreman and his assistant were hauling in the lane ropes, I spotted Saul hurrying down the steps. He trotted towards Miko and they had an animated conversation. Miko rushed off towards the changing rooms and Saul walked towards us. I could see Caroline watching him but she must have sensed my eyes on her as she flicked her head and turned back to Kohler. I wondered what she was thinking. If Rachel failed to show, there wouldn’t be a competition as two of the club’s best divers were away training in France and Joan preferred high board.

  Caroline would want to demonstrate her superiority. They weren’t just competing for a cup anymore and everyone in the arena would know that. I felt certain that Rachel wouldn’t decline the challenge. She’d run away, been kidnapped, her father had locked her in a cupboard. My imagination ran riot but there was nothing I could do.

  Saul sat down, a knowing grin on his puffy face. He tapped his nose. ‘Caroline’s in for a surprise.’ He pointed towards the lookout.

  Miko walked down the steps a few paces in front of Rachel. A murmur rose from the crowd as they
spotted her and there was a swell of applause as she reached her place under the boards. She didn’t acknowledge it but started stretching under Miko’s direction. My pulse was racing again.

  ‘Gadzooks, but her father is a right royal pain in the arse. I thought I’d have to pay him to release her. Quite a scene, I can tell you.’

  I looked at him in amazement. He’d been into the lion’s den and rescued her? I was speechless.

  Brewster’s voice echoed over the loudspeakers. He was soon in full flow, stretching our patience with a detailed explanation of the rules and procedures, before he announced the first diver.

  ‘Miss Hayden-Brown will perform a forward dive, straight, standing; degree of difficulty is one point six.’

  He kept her waiting as he launched into another explanation of the scoring formula that would tax the average maths teacher though, if Saul didn’t get too bored, I knew he could work out the result in his head.

  Joan hissed. ‘Get on with, you windbag.’

  Caroline made good use of his ramblings by rearranging her hair and twisting from side to side to show off her sleek figure as she stripped off her tracksuit to reveal a new ultra tight purple costume. She raised her arms to reach her head and tie off a matching ribbon on her ponytail. The effect was very seductive but, as three of the judges were female, it was a wasted effort. Not on me though. That hollow feeling of loss was there again, or was it just hunger?

  Having climbed the ladder, she paused, waiting for silence from the spectators then took four long steps forward into the hurdle, planted both feet on the edge of the long wooden board and launched herself high into the air.

  ‘Excellent elevation,’ commented Joan.

  She plunged past the end of the board and knifed into the water three metres below. She emerged with a smug smile and acknowledged the loud applause.

  Brewster blew his whistle and the scorecards were held aloft. The highest was eight point five from old Arthur, who brought to diving the same degree of impartiality that Phillips brought to water polo. He must like purple ribbons. The lowest was six point five. Those two scores would be discarded and the other three added up and multiplied by the tariff.

  ‘Thirty-two point eight and average ten point nine.’ Saul was still awake and had completed his calculations before Brewster had finished calling out the scores.

  ‘That’s a bit generous. If you’re right and they carry on like that we’re going to see some ridiculous totals.’ Joan sounded rather annoyed.

  There was a slight pause as the officials worked out the score, which was as Saul had predicted.

  ‘Next, with the same dive, is Miss Vibert.’

  I had been watching Miko prepare Rachel by helping her stretch and rotate. I had to confess to a pang of jealousy as he manipulated her body. He helped her shrug out of her tracksuit. Instead of her usual staid black, she was wearing a crimson costume as figure hugging as Caroline’s. She tucked her hair into a white cap and seemed surprised at the applause and wolf-whistles from the gallery. She looked gorgeous but I sensed her nervousness and caught a quick flick of her eye in Miko’s direction before she climbed the ladder up to the board.

  She started her move forward. Like Caroline, she took four steps though they seemed more deliberate, mechanical even. Her elevation wasn’t as good and her entry sounded like a large rock being dropped into the water. Her highest score was six and the lowest from Caroline’s admirer, a four.

  Joan patted my arm. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll get better. Do you know if she made that costume herself?’

  ‘How would I know that?’

  She grinned. ‘Sorry, I don’t suppose you two waste time discussing such trifles as Lastex fibres.’

  Did she know something? Had Rachel been confiding in her? I grinned back. ‘I hope she improves. After all the training she’s put in at the gym she deserves to do well.’

  Joan grunted. ‘Humph. Best not to talk about that.’

  As the water polo players were suspicious of Miko, so were most of the divers. His contention that, to be successful, they had to be good gymnasts and spend more time on the mats in South Hill Gym than they did on the boards didn’t impress many of them. Diving, for most, was about graceful movement through the air, not sweating on apparatus indoors.

  In the second compulsory round, Rachel pulled back a small amount of the deficit with her standing back dive, scoring thirteen to Caroline’s twelve point seven. She seemed more confident and her layout, according to Joan, had been technically perfect. I found it stunning. My pulse was now steady at 120.

  Caroline responded with an imperious reverse dive. For the moment I was the invisible part of an emotional triangle, though I’d caught the odd glance from those who knew. The tension was beginning to make me light-headed. She gained a nine from her male admirer who managed to keep a straight face, as there were some obvious giggles from the crowd when he held up his card. Overall, she scored twelve point seven, which Joan thought was a fair result.

  Rachel followed though she took some time to settle the board as she gripped it with her toes. Her execution was flawless and she hit the water like a spear with that rare ripping sound which signifies the perfect entry. She received an eight and two seven point fives, which gave a total of fifteen point three – by far the best dive so far. She was now point eight behind Caroline. I felt sure Joan could hear my heart hammering in my chest.

  The compulsory section over, the divers had to hand in their three voluntary dives, which they were then not allowed to change. Rachel seemed to be arguing with Miko and I sensed that she was unhappy with at least one of the choices.

  Brewster halted their argument by calling the divers to the table to submit their planned dives. Rachel still looked agitated, much to Caroline’s amusement, but she deposited her hand written sheet, shrugged her shoulders and stalked back to Miko who rolled his eyes in exasperation.

  Caroline was first to dive again and Brewster announced that she would attempt a forward running dive with two and a half somersaults in the pike position. This had a degree of difficulty of two point four and drew a small gasp from the crowd when he described it.

  Joan nudged me. ‘That’s a bit of a risk. The spring’s not right.’

  Caroline bounded forward but her take-off seemed hesitant and she didn’t achieve enough initial height to complete the two and a half rotations. She spun out with her body still bent and her legs went over on entry. Her favourite judge gave her a seven point five but the rest of the marks were lower.

  Saul had her total within seconds. ‘Fourteen point eight. She could –’

  ‘That’s because of the tariff,’ Joan interrupted. ‘It wasn’t a good dive. I’m surprised she got that much.’

  ‘Next, Miss Vibert who will attempt the same dive.’

  Joan gasped. Perhaps that was the source of the argument. Miko was pushing her into something she didn’t feel confident about. I knew that feeling. I held my breath. Rachel’s execution was almost identical as she failed to get the necessary height from her spring. Saul had the calculation: fourteen point four. Caroline was still ahead on points even though they had won two dives each.

  Joan was as detached as ever. ‘That’s daft, trying high tariffs when the board isn’t right.’

  Caroline attempted a forward somersault with two twists and another high tariff for her next dive and again failed to meet Joan’s approval. She scored fifteen point two though, while Rachel managed twelve point three for a forward one and half-running tuck, which she executed well.

  After five dives, Saul calculated that Caroline led Rachel by four points.

  For her final dive, Caroline chose a reverse one and a half somersaults with tuck and a tariff of two point zero. She got nine from her friend but six point five from everyone else for an average of thirteen.

  ‘Rachel will have to score at least seventeen to equal her.’

  We didn’t doubt Saul’s calculation but Joan laughed. ‘There’s little chance of t
hat. The best that Marjorie Gestring scored was just over sixteen in the Olympic final. Sorry, Jack, but, even with this crazy marking, I can’t see that happening.’

  I tried to speak but it came out in a rush. ‘Just be patient, Joan. There’s the Miko factor to consider.’ It was wishful thinking, but Rachel seemed more settled and Miko was smiling. Had he given her the confidence?

  ‘Miss Vibert’s final dive…’ Brewster turned to the scorer and, even though the microphone didn’t pick it up, his voice was incredulous enough for us to hear the query. ‘Are you sure?’

  The scorer nodded.

  ‘Her final dive will be an inward dive with two and a half somersaults in the pike position. This has a degree of difficulty of three point zero.’

  This time the gasp from the spectators could be heard as far as the Dicq Rock.

  Joan’s mouth hung open in disbelief. ‘She’s mad; he’s mad; they’re both mad. She can’t pull that off. Even Pete Desjardins couldn’t manage it and he designed that board.’

  Saul raised his eyebrows and expelled a long breath. Miko looked confident and Rachel seemed calm as she climbed the ladder and assumed her position.

  Miko called out to her. I thought it was a word of encouragement but it was an instruction. She grabbed the handrail and reached out with her foot to the ratchet mechanism, which moved the roller fulcrum under the board. She nudged it back several notches to increase the spring of the board. This was an even greater gamble as she obviously hadn’t had a chance to test it. I couldn’t watch.

  We guessed that the board had been set up by the heavier male divers who had been practising earlier. They must have pushed the fulcrum forward, which was why the lighter girls weren’t getting the height. This could catapult her into the heavens if she got it wrong.

  She waited until the crowd was quiet. Even the seagulls stopped to watch this one. I sucked in a deep breath and steeled myself to watch the tragedy unfolding in front of me. As soon as she moved forward, the scoring would start. She stretched her body to its full height, looked towards Green Island in the distance and strode to the end of the board, absorbing its deep dip as her weight pulled it down. Without hesitation, she pivoted on the very edge to face inwards.