Out of Practice

by Penny Parkes

  Holly laughed at the incongruity of the blaspheming coming from such an elegant, iconic senior citizen. ‘I know, I know. It was just – easier?’

  ‘In the short term, maybe,’ said Elsie insightfully, ‘but then the slights just keep on building until there’s a blow-out.’

  ‘Like last week? With the wine?’

  ‘Indeed. Did you mean what you said to her?’

  ‘That she drinks too much? Well, yeah. She’s like a bloody fish. When she’s happy, when she’s sad, when she’s tired, when she’s not. Hey, it’s Wednesday, let’s open some wine! It was like the elephant in the room that nobody dared mention.’

  ‘Or the goldfish,’ quipped Elsie, ‘the koi carp, if you will. But had you stopped to consider that it’s her right to do that. And not forgetting that you don’t actually like wine. Now, be honest, if she’d been drinking some vile Vimto and vodka concoction, would you have joined in a little more?’

  ‘Not at four o’clock with a houseful of toddlers, no!’ Holly paused for a moment, to access the new honesty she’d found. ‘Okay, well maybe one, but no more until the children were in bed . . .’ she admitted reluctantly.

  ‘So, now we’re finding our limits. Everyone has them – a different place they’re prepared to draw the line. And Lizzie’s life is all about Lizzie. I don’t know her very well, but she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to put other people first. If she’s helping you out, there’s probably a hidden agenda,’ said Elsie shrewdly. ‘I dare say the same applies to your friendship. Maybe it’s time to think about what you get out of the relationship?’

  Holly was stumped for a moment, but Elsie carried on regardless, clearly adoring having a captive and attentive audience. ‘Stop thinking about Lizzie, or Milo, or those adorable little rug-rats currently drooling on my chinoiserie. Think about you for a moment. You said you wanted to find a new sin. Well then, tell me, what do you want?’

  ‘To be happy?’ offered Holly apologetically after an extended pause.

  ‘Hmmm. Too vague. And why the question in your voice? It’s answers we’re looking for. Goodness me, Holly Graham. Get some bloody gumption. If you could do anything, right now – no kids, no husband, no morning surgery – what would you do?’ Elsie challenged her.

  Holly sat there, slightly tipsy and completely dumbfounded, ‘I honestly don’t know,’ she confessed. She could feel tears crowding into her throat, forcing her to swallow. She felt completely blind-sided, as if she’d suddenly put on glasses with the correct prescription. ‘That’s awful. I mean, how can I possibly . . . Oh, that’s bad, isn’t it? I should know what would make me happy.’

  ‘Should?’ queried Elsie with a sigh. ‘Really?’

  Holly shook her head, not even hearing Elsie’s rebuke. ‘How can I possibly ask for what I want, when I don’t even know what it is,’ she repeated Elsie’s earlier statement as if it were the new Holy Grail and she was seeing clearly for the very first time. ‘Shit,’ she said succinctly and with feeling after a moment, before the nervous laughter bubbled into her voice. ‘I’m trying to work out if that’s lame or merely pathetic.’

  ‘I’d say it’s a little of both, sweetheart,’ said Elsie with a smile, reaching out to take Holly’s hand in her own. ‘But it’s also what you might want to call, a start.’

  Chapter 21

  Holly had begun to question her sanity as she’d pushed open the bathroom window earlier that morning and the cold air had rushed in. It was all very well agreeing to these things in theory, but she suspected that Larkford’s Annual Wild Swim might prove to be a little more challenging in practice. She’d lost count of the number of patients and colleagues who had invited her and her family to join in and Grace had been very clear that, in terms of local camaraderie, the wild swim was definitely A Big Deal.

  Talking to Elsie last night had therefore sealed the proverbial deal. Holly wanted to do this; she wanted the twins to do this – and just because Milo was dead set against it, shouldn’t really make any difference. In the same way that she secretly let the boys climb trees, even though Milo had decreed otherwise.

  She’d surveyed herself critically in the long mirror, tugging down her swimsuit to cover her bottom. Her trusty old Speedo was fine for ploughing up and down the pool at the local leisure centre, but it was hardly the ideal apparel for socialising with the entire community.

  Holly had tentatively floated the notion of a wetsuit to Grace, but the feedback had been clear – wetsuits were only for the very young, the very old and the medically questionable.

  Now, an hour later and shivering on the river bank, she watched the twins run around excitedly in theirs and tried not to feel envious. They shrieked happily in their little surf shoes and splashed at the edge while Holly kept them under close surveillance whilst attempting to blow up all four of their water-wings. ‘Bloody, buggery things,’ she muttered under her breath as they refused to inflate fully.

  A voice at her shoulder made her jump and all the air came whistling out again. ‘You’re bright and early, Holly. Ready for a little pagan ritual?’

  Holly, flushed and breathless from her exertions with the water wings, turned to find Taffy Jones beside her, a well-worn rugby shirt pulled on over his long baggy swim shorts. She huddled deeper into her padded coat. ‘Pagan what now?’

  ‘Well, technically it’s the first day of Spring today, isn’t it? That’s what we’re celebrating. Although, it crossed my mind that Mother Nature is having a cheeky laugh at our expense – the thermometer in my car says it’s only eleven degrees. Bit brisk for my taste.’

  Holly automatically righted Tom on his feet as he began to slip on the wet grass. ‘Can’t help being a bit jealous of the kids’ wetsuits to be honest.’

  ‘Well, at least you’re not wearing one,’ Taffy replied. ‘Definite faux pas around here. You’ll be getting loads of Brownie points anyway, just for turning up with the twins – they like newcomers who embrace the old traditions – even the bonkers ones.’

  ‘Speaking of bonkers, no Reginald and Ludo this morning?’ Holly grinned.

  ‘Ooh no, we have to save those guys for very special occasions or they lose their magic,’ he replied seriously. ‘No Milo this morning either?’ Taffy’s tone was casual, but he seemed inordinately interested in the answer.

  Holly was at a loss for a reply for a moment. She really didn’t want to let on about Milo’s reaction to the invitation. He’d been rude and disrespectful about the locals, their loopy customs and what he called ‘Holly’s desperate need to be liked and fit in’. Privately, Holly thought that his extreme overreaction probably had more to do with Milo’s aversion to all things ‘nature’ and his weakness as a swimmer, but he’d certainly lost no opportunity to undermine her confidence in the venture. He’d made it clear that if the twins were ill afterwards, it was her own lookout and his parting shot about her swimsuit this morning had left her feeling like a target for a Green Peace rescue mission.

  Taffy didn’t seem to miss a trick as he took in the emotions flitting across her face. Instead of waiting for her to reply and further incriminate her husband’s character, he simply took the limp armband from her grasp and inflated it with one slow steady puff. As he crouched down beside her, he called out to the boys, ‘Okay then, who wants to play hovercrafts?’

  Soon they were both busy kitting out the boys and the awkwardness passed. Grace and Lucy ambled over to join them, Grace bearing a huge picnic basket and armfuls of towels. George Kingsley was wandering around with his beloved Nikon and snapped a few joyfully huddled photos, pre-swim and shivering on the river bank, their faces glowing with expectation and excitement.

  ‘I’m a bit nervous actually,’ Holly confided to Grace. ‘So, since you’ve talked me into this pagan madness, can you fill me in on the plan?’

  Grace beamed. ‘I’m so pleased you came. I know it probably doesn’t seem like much to you, but to us . . . Did you know that this is the 65th Annual Spring Swim at the river club? I gu
ess we all feel privileged to still have a river swimming club here – not many places do any more, you know. We were one of the first and we’re one of the last. There’s an amazing photo on the wall of The Kingsley Arms of everyone here about forty years ago, with all the ladies in their flowery swim hats. It’s rather special actually.’ She squeezed Holly’s sleeve happily. ‘Shall we get over to the start and we can hear the speeches?’

  Making sure she had both squirming little boys clasped tightly on each hip, Holly followed the group to the sloping part of the river bank, where a small dais had been erected. George Kingsley put down his camera and picked up the loudhailer. ‘Well, good morning to you all. It’s such a treat to see so many of you here – young and old. It’s the first day of Spring!’ Some wag in the crowd let rip with a huge Woo-Hoo and everyone fell about laughing. There was such a feeling of bonhomie and anticipation buzzing through the crowd, that Holly didn’t miss a beat when Taffy scooped one of the boys out of her arms and lifted him effortlessly onto his shoulders for a better view. George’s welcome speech reminded them all of the history of the Swim and how traditions like this kept communities alive. He urged them to take part in the raffle that had quickly been hustled together – a way of raising some funds for Hattie and Lance while he underwent treatment. Holly felt quite choked up actually, as she realised that she was truly a part of this rather special event, rather than simply a bystander. A place in this wonderful community was hers for the asking.

  ‘So then, ladies and gents, when you’re ready, Spring has sprung!’ George blew sharply on a whistle and the hardier swimmers amongst them waded straight into the chilly water without hesitation. Holly was about to plop Tom down on the ground so she could take off her coat, when it hit her. It was Ben who was perched up on Taffy’s shoulders. Ben who was cheering and shrieking in excitement whilst holding on to Taffy’s hair for dear life, a huge smile illuminating his little face. Taffy looked over at her, his eyes dancing, and she felt a tiny shiver at the back of her neck that had nothing to do with the temperature.

  ‘Let the madness begin, eh, Holls?’ he said. He swung Ben down into his arms to check that the armbands were still firmly attached. ‘Do you want a hand?’

  ‘Erm . . .’ mumbled Holly, still rather thrown by the ease with which Taffy had clearly bonded with her tricky little boy. ‘Pick a twin and make sure he doesn’t drown?’ she ventured, still convinced he would plump for Tom as the easier option. She was loving the fact that he was prepared to help her with her madcap parenting. Twins were great but it didn’t take a health and safety expert to point out that a one-to-one ratio was an absolute must for small children at the Spring Swim. Grace had volunteered to fill Milo’s conspicuously empty shoes, but with a wave and a smile she had disappeared into the crowd once she clocked that Taffy had it covered.

  To Holly’s continuing surprise, it was Ben that Taffy scooped up yet again, blowing a raspberry on his tummy that Holly would never have dared attempt. ‘I think I’ll take . . .’ he blew another raspberry to further shrieks of delight, ‘. . . this one!’ He raised an eyebrow at Holly and quietly murmured an aside, ‘If that’s okay with you? I will be properly careful though, I promise.’

  Holly swallowed hard, overcome by an unfamiliar emotion. She struggled to put her finger on it, as she mutely nodded her head. Supported, that was it. She felt supported. Not alone, or lonely, or out of her depth.

  She watched as Taffy encouraged the boys to join in the cheers for the first brave swimmers. It was as though he instinctively knew how important it was to her that the boys enjoy experiences like this one. How special it was for her to be a small part of a community that cared about the past as well as the future and whose idea of a family event hadn’t changed for half a century.

  The adrenalin was pumping through her veins now, as they waited patiently for their turn. ‘Are you ready, boys?’ she grinned excitedly. ‘It’s going to be chilly.’ She shrugged off her down jacket and felt Taffy’s eyes skimming her body, lingering where her baggy t-shirt clung to her swimsuit and taking no small amount of pleasure in the two high spots of colour that appeared on his cheeks.

  ‘Looking good there, Dr Graham,’ he murmured quietly, as they were pushed together by the others waiting.

  ‘Not so bad yourself, Dr Jones,’ she replied, trying not to stare at his muscular abs and the fine smattering of hair on his well-honed chest.

  Luckily their turn had come, plunging into the shallows of the meandering river and heading for one of the natural pools that made this stretch of river a perfect oasis. Although the air was cold, the water itself was by no means arctic and they lowered the twins into the river. Residents young and old piled in around them, spreading out into little cliques in places, but mostly jumbled together like pick and mix – Werther’s Originals alongside young bouncing jelly beans.

  Screams of laughter and shock at the cold water filled the air as adults and children alike splashed each other gleefully. It seemed as though the only residents who hadn’t made the effort to come were the bedridden and the snooty – it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out which category Milo fell into. Even the supermarket, shops and pub had closed temporarily so that the staff could join in.

  Certainly, the sight of Police Chief Inspector Davis in his stripy bathing suit would stick with Holly for years to come and she couldn’t help thinking what a bloody good sport he was, as he ducked handfuls of water thrown his way by the odd young troublemaker. The Major seemed to be getting some rather intensive swimming tips from Marion Gains, who was one of the river club’s regulars, and was obviously loving every minute. Holly could have sworn she even saw Julia Channing in a floral swim hat down at the far end of the weir.

  She watched the twins as they bobbed happily, warm in their little suits, and delighted by the cooing attentions of every granny who swam by. Taffy, to his enormous credit, hadn’t stopped watching them for a second and Holly found herself feeling a little overwhelmed by the whole spectacle. He reached over and brushed a soggy curl from her face. ‘Having fun?’

  ‘Far more than one might imagine.’

  He grinned. ‘Yep, cold water, lots of people, early start – you wouldn’t think it’s a winning combination.’

  Holly privately thought that it might just be a magic formula for happiness and acceptance but she wisely kept her ramblings to herself. She watched as an athletic teenager came flying from the tyre swing into the deepest part of the river and surfaced without his shorts. She snorted childishly with laughter.

  Taffy leaned in closer. ‘It’s not normally a naturist swim, honestly. But if you felt the urge to join in, I’m sure that no one would object.’

  Holly splashed him, her eyes widening at his intimate tone. Sure, there was a certain familiarity in their relationship. Somehow, he had become her surrogate partner this morning after all, but there was something in his voice that made Holly realise that, for all her protestations, Taffy’s feelings for her were not purely of the platonic variety.

  All she had to work out now, was how that made her feel. Watching him swing Ben around fearlessly in the water, she knew one thing for certain – Taffy Jones was one of the good guys. Whatever she chose to do, it had to be handled with care and affection. She had no desire to be the latest conquest on his list. It wasn’t how she functioned. But likewise, she’d found a rather special friendship with Taffy and she had no desire to lose that while he worked through what could only be a passing fancy.

  She started a little at the feel of his hand on her waist. Treading water, with everyone else around them, the intimacy of the gesture was somehow magnified. ‘Shall we get the boys out for some hot chocolate, while they’re still having fun? Probably best to finish on a high note and then they’ll want to come again next year.’

  ‘Good plan,’ she smiled. ‘Always leave them wanting more.’

  The double entendre of her words only occurred to her, as she saw the flash in his eyes and the increased pressure
of his hand that somehow felt perfectly natural brushing against her rib cage. She delighted in the boys’ exuberant reactions to the promise of hot chocolate and cast one last look around the river, cementing the image in her memory as the moment she felt truly a part of this wonderful community.

  Wading out of the water, there were volunteers wrapping everyone in towels and silver foil blankets, hot drinks pressed into their hands. The four of them found a tree stump to perch on, a child on each lap and steam from their drinks warming their hands and noses. A photographer from the Larkford Gazette snapped their moment of intimacy. Holly thought at the time that it was bound to be a fabulous photograph. She couldn’t possibly foresee the furore it would cause at home when it made the front page under the caption, ‘New Local Doc and Family Embracing Larkford’s Spring Swim’. It certainly wouldn’t have occurred to Milo that he could have been the one making his wife and children laugh like drains. But then, it had to be said, with Milo in the mix, they probably wouldn’t be.

  Chapter 22

  Dan threw his wet gear into the boot of his car and stretched out the tension in his shoulders. He really was getting a little old for bombs and somersaults into the river, but he never could resist a challenge or a dare. He’d rather hoped to catch up with Taffy, have a bit of a chat, but Taffy seemed to be playing surrogate father to Holly’s twins this morning. Dan genuinely couldn’t see how this was going to end well for his friend. Despite being known for his skills with the opposite sex, Dan had never seen his friend like this before.

  Speak of the devil, Dan looked up to see Taffy jogging across the river bank towards him. ‘Feeling a little delicate, are we?’ Taffy called out as he got closer. Perching on the edge of Dan’s boot, he pinched Dan’s towel to rub at his hair. ‘Now, are we blaming the somersaults, or is there anything you’d like to tell me about a certain science teacher?’