When I had finally summoned the courage to go through the Leisure Centre doors, I was faced with the retching smell of chlorine. I started feeling nauseas and my head was swimming. 'How ironic' I thought to myself that my fear of water would make my head swim in terror. I gripped onto my daughters hand for support however this did make me seem somewhat immature. How silly that me, a grown woman, a mother to a six year old had to cling to her child's innocence for emotional support.
I had been very careful that she didn't know about my phobia of water. I was aware that everyone else in the class at school could swim and I didn't want my trepidation to wear off on her, when she had no reason to be cautious of water. I paid the woman at the desk for beginner's lessons for the first term and got directions to where the changing rooms were. There were lots of other children running around in the lobby, squealing brats that weren't controlled by their parents. It was moments like this that I felt like a proper, decent parent. Being able to bring up a child as a single parent and do it successfully was a rare thing these days, but at the moment I can credit myself for being at least half way there compared to the huddle of chilled smokers outside with no idea where their offspring are.
I took my own daughter by her hand, I felt protective now, I wanted to prove to myself that I could let her do this and not be stopped by my own fear. When talking to other mums in the playground I had heard that children at her age "took to it like ducks to water". Besides, her friends would soon be hosting pool parties and she would of course be invited. She was popular, with a nice group of friends who had parents who earned a lot of money in whatever professions they maintained. I worked for the local paper. I was the editor. Money was no problem; we still lived with my Father. My husband had taken off with a receptionist whilst I was pregnant and I really had never looked back. I wasn't going to let my child suffer because he had an interest in women who had a sexy phone voice. This was one of those moments. I had to help her into the swimming pool, to learn to swim like all other children. I couldn't let her see how scared I was, how much I was worried that she would be terrified of it like me. It was only water of course. For all I knew, she could be a natural, an Olympic swimmer in the making.
My thought train was cut short as I realised we were stood, hand in hand, in front of the women's changing rooms. I took a deep breath, looked down at my precious child, smiled as reassuringly as I could and pushed open the blue door. Inside the stench of chlorine was worse. I was closer to the pool. Girls of all ages bustled, giggled and squealed in all directions. I resisted the urge to turn and run out, deciding on a new strategy. 'Let's get this over and done with as soon as possible' I told myself. Reluctant to change in the middle of all the other girls I had to stand outside the ladies toilets and wait for her to change. She took what seemed like an age and I had to stand there watching all these confident mothers, take their children out to the side of the pool. I heard something from inside the cubicle and checked my watch. 5 minutes till she was supposed to be in. I pushed on the door and it slipped open. I immediately repulsed by the grimy floor and smell of stank, unwashed toilets. "Hurry up" I prompted and retreated back into the less rancid chlorine air.
When she was ready all the other girls had vacated the changing rooms. I barely looked at my own daughter as she fiddled with her swimming costume. I was trying to make this about me, but my heart rate was rising fast and I could feel my legs shaking. I opened the heavy door to the poolside and realised I couldn't go any further. All the other children were lining up in the corridor waiting to be called by their teachers. I couldn't do this. My own daughter, I looked at her face, mixed fear and interest gave me a bit of confidence in her independence. I didn't need to teach her to swim; I was paying some teen life guard to do that. She stepped out into the line of colourful costumes and I saw this as her own step to doing this. My six year old daughter was braver than me. Tears of shame filled my eyes and I pushed back through the door. Words of reassurance tumbled aimlessly out my mouth and then there was silence.
The door had closed in front of me. My daughter was separated from me, on my own again. She had been what was keeping me going. In pure panic I ran from the changing room. I slipped on a small stray flip flop but kept going. I was out by the reception desk when I finally stopped to regain my dignity, breath and conscience. The lady behind the desk obviously noticed me looking shaken up and pointed me to the stairs to the viewing room. I went up the stairs slowly, gripping the handle till my knuckles were white. I went through the doors at the top and saw all the parents from downstairs, lined up on stools overlooking a big glass window. Coffee was apparently on offer as they all clutched paper cups of the hot liquid. I slowly made it to one of the few spare stools and saw to my horror that I was hovering 3 metres above the poolside. I clung to the edge of my seat and squinted through my tearful eyes to spot my daughter. I was ashamed of my mothering instinct when I could not see her. The Ariel costume seemed the same as every other cartoon style down there. Pink was the chosen colour for the girls and a rainbow of boy's trunks with bare top halves. No one was in the pool yet. The shimmering mass of liquid taunted me as I tried to spot my daughter. There! She was with one of the life guards. 'Oh god,' I realised 'she looks terrified' I was cruel. I hadn't even asked her if she wanted swimming lessons. She was shepherded to one of the groups forming at each side of the pool. A whistle blew from one of the lifeguards and all the children threw themselves into the water. She was left stood on her own. The lifeguards clearly didn't like this. She was clearly causing trouble. I saw one of the men in a yellow top say something to her. "Oooh look Cheryl, that little madam there" my attention was caught by a shrill voice that came from a tall lady in a pink body warmer. I was about to give her the full parenting speech when I heard a scream. This time I did recognise it as my child. She was in the water. Had I missed her jumping? She would be disappointed when she got out. Perhaps I could tell her I did see it. Wait. Something was wrong.
Where was she? I waited for her head to pop up through the blue bubbles. I could feel every muscle in my body tense as the seconds went by. Then the bubbles started to clear. I could see her. The outline of her body was distorted by the rippling water, but it was clear that she was sinking. I screamed. I hit the glass to smash through. She needed me. i think I saw her see me the. Her mouth was moving under water and I imaged her tiny lungs filling with water. Hysteria took over, "my daughter! She can't swim!" the parents around me were also standing up, leaning to the glass to see. I was hammering on the glass and the lifeguards looked up and saw me, but they didn't notice my daughter, in her new Ariel costume, sinking to the bottom of the swimming pool. In absolute horror I saw her body buckle as she hit the bottom of the pool. Her arms flopped weakly under the water pressure. I screamed and screamed. 'Please?'