I’m so sunk in gloom, I fail to realise that the line of people to my right is growing shorter by the minute as we all move along slowly, taking the place of the competitors who’ve gone in the water. And before I realise what’s happening, there’s actually no one left to my right – and it’s my turn…
Noooooooo!
I stare at Polly in a panic and she smiles encouragingly at me. I can’t do this. I just can’t. I’d rather change my name to Dick by deed poll than get into that murky, disgusting water in Krystle’s lovely outfit…
Polly checks her list of competitors and looks up. ‘You must be Maddy?’
I gulp and nod, painfully aware of everyone staring at me.
‘Okay, then, everyone!’ yells Polly. ‘Let’s have a big cheer for Maddy!’
And then to my horror, the entire group (who must seriously be on some kind of hallucinogenic mushrooms if they consider this fun) start chanting my name.
‘Madd-y! Madd-y! Maddy-y! Madd-y!’
Bloody Marcus! I’ll swing for that man when I see him!
‘Madd-y! Madd-y! Maddy-y! Madd-y!’
There’s clearly no getting out of it. I’ll have to get in.
I angle myself gingerly and take a few steps down the shallow bank, the tight green scale-patterned dress straining at the seams as I mentally prepare myself to slide into the smelly brown water.
‘I’ll do it!’ calls a man’s voice suddenly from the crowd. ‘I’ll take her place.’
I freeze, thinking it has to be wishful thinking. Someone bailing me out at the final hour? I don’t think so! Oddly, thought, the voice is familiar.
I turn around. ‘What the…?’ Surprise almost knocks me backwards into the water and I only just manage to steady myself.
Standing just a few feet away is…Dad?
His expression is grim, as if he’d rather be anywhere else but here. And he looks completely out of place among this group of people, in his smartly pressed chinos, crisp white shirt and navy jacket. But I’ve never been so pleased to see anyone in my whole life!
‘Dad?’ I scramble back up the bank.
‘Is Marcus not here?’ he murmurs, glancing around.
I shake my head.
‘Do we have a substitution situation here?’ calls Polly. ‘There’s nothing in the rules that says it can’t be done, so I am prepared to allow it.’
Dad is sizing up the bog water situation. ‘Do I just go in like this?’ he asks, glancing down at his cream trousers.
‘Dad, really? You’d do that for me? You’d actually go in that foul water in your best clothes?’
His eyes soften as he looks at me. ‘I’d do anything for you, even though you seem determined not to believe it.’
My throat feels more choked than ever now, but I do my best to ignore it. ‘Are you serious about this?’ I still can’t believe that my normally reserved dad is about to – well, let’s face it, make an absolute tit of himself for my sake! ‘Because if you are serious, let me introduce you to Mr Jellyfish.’
Everyone watches with interest as I reach into my black binbag and pull out the massive blue pouffe look-alike. ‘I think you just wear it like a huge hat, with the fronds dangling down like legs. Or whatever they are.’
He nods, gamely putting it on his head, and I arrange the fronds nicely, amidst much chortling from the onlookers. I glance at Dad’s cream trousers. ‘What about those?’
He shrugs. ‘In for a penny.’ Unzipping them, he strips off to his tartan boxer shorts, and I laugh in amazement because I’ve never seen him do anything like that before. Folding the trousers carefully, he hands them to me. Then after a swift assessment of the channel, he looks at Polly. ‘I just get in now, do I? And swim to the other end?’
She smiles broadly as everyone starts cheering him on. ‘That’s the idea,’ she calls, putting the whistle to her lips.
‘Thanks so much, Dad,’ I say, kissing him quickly on the cheek. He grasps my hand for a moment and I catch a light dancing in his eyes that I haven’t seen in a very long time. Then he slithers down the bank and splashes into the cold, gloopy green soup.
‘Dad, wait.’ I scramble half way down the bank and lob my snorkel over to him.
He sticks a thumb up, fits the equipment, hunkers down and pushes off, navigating the channel at a pretty nifty pace. I join in with the cheers and the clapping, shaking my head in disbelief.
The twins must have told him about today. They’d sponsored me, of course, and they wanted to come and cheer me on, but work had called them back to London. Dad must have decided to come in their place. And even though I’m still angry at him for sending Marcus away all those years ago, I’m so overwhelmed at him turning up, I could cry.
And then, just as I’m wondering if maybe all this is just a weird dream and I’ll wake up soon, something else happens that seems too good to be true.
I catch sight of Ellie waving at me from among the crowd.
And Primrose!
My heart leaps in gratitude. Having assumed they’d probably aligned themselves with Jaz and Katja after my angry explosion the other day, I’m so overjoyed to see their smiling faces, I immediately start trying to scramble up the bank to reach them.
Bad idea.
When I try to move, I meet firm resistance. The heel of my sandal is stuck firmly in the mud, and when I try to jerk it away, my foot slides out altogether and I lose my balance. I hover precariously in the upright position for a few seconds, before gravity wins and I find myself sitting down with a bump in the mud. Which would be fine if I wasn’t on a downwards slope. The momentum from falling turns me over in a sort of sideways roll and I land, with an enormous splash, in the middle of the bog.
It all happens so quickly, I’m completely submerged before I realise what’s happening. I scramble up with smelly bog water and bits of twig and God knows what else streaming down my face. Gasping and spluttering, I try to get my bearings to scramble out. But I’m disorientated and facing the wrong bank. And then – horror of horrors – I suddenly glimpse the Hulk heaving his way along the channel. He’s got his Hulk mask on now and, looming towards me, he looks even more off-putting than he did without the mask (but only just).
Panic flares inside. I’m not sure he’s even noticed me, he’s so focused on his speed.
‘Swim!’ yells a voice I don’t recognise, and a snorkel is thrown my way.
‘Go for it, Maddy!’ That’s Ellie’s voice, and it spurs me into action. Taking a great gulp of air, I force the snorkel on and start doing the breaststroke along the channel. It’s not very deep and my feet keep kicking the bottom. I could probably walk a lot faster but that would be against the rules and Polly definitely wouldn’t approve. So I keep moving, looking back every now and then to make sure the Hulk isn’t bearing down on me.
To my relief, he seems to be falling behind slightly. People are cheering excitedly and I hear someone say, ‘Wow, she’s fast.’
This spurs me on. It’s amazing how fast you can swim when a disgusting letch in the guise of a movie monster is hot on your tail. I’m out of breath and my limbs are tired, but the crowd is urging me on…and I’m rising to the challenge! How amazing if the first-timer actually won the race…