You Against Me

She took off her cardigan and tights, but left her underwear and shirt on. She tried not to think about her fat thighs, but was really glad she’d shaved her legs the night before.

She turned to him. ‘You fancy a swim?’

He looked astonished. ‘In the river?’

‘Why not?’

‘It’ll be freezing!’

‘Are you scared?’

‘No, I just haven’t got swimming stuff.’

She waved a hand at herself. ‘Neither have I.’

He frowned, pulled his jeans down an inch, as if he was checking to see if, by a miracle, he had swimming trunks on. She saw the top of his boxer shorts. There was very fine hair at the bottom of his belly, gathering to shadow. He caught her looking, and to stop herself blushing, she said, ‘I dare you.’

He stared back at her for a moment, and then he laughed.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘If you’re going to dare me.’

He kicked off his trainers, pulled off his jacket and unbuckled his jeans. Ellie couldn’t look, didn’t want to melt. She turned away and walked down the slope towards the water. The grass ran out near the edge, turned to mud pocked with gravel. It sucked at her toes.

She doubted herself now. She’d done this loads of times before, but it looked dark in the water today and so murky that anything could be hiding. There were weeds at the edge and rushes gripping the side of the bank. But she couldn’t show him she was afraid. She needed to keep being interesting to hold his attention.

She didn’t even look as she jumped. She knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to do it. Instead, she screwed her eyes shut and leaped into the air. The cold shock of the water was crazy. It was like falling from a plane, plummeting somewhere so alien‑cold that ice might gather on her outstretched arms.

‘What’s it like?’ he called. He was hugging himself on the riverbank. He looked old‑fashioned standing there in his underwear.

She couldn’t answer. She had to keep moving it was so cold. She swam breast stroke to the opposite bank, then front crawl on the turn. She loved that feeling – swimming without thinking, celebrating the water like she owned it. She enjoyed the rhythm and discipline of it. When she’d been a member of the swimming club, she’d swum forty lengths every morning and come out feeling brain‑washed, clean, alert.

‘Coming in,’ he shouted. He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. It made her smile. She recognized that male bravado from Tom, convincing yourself at the same time as you convinced everyone else. Her dad did it with maps.

He tucked in his knees and jumped like she had. He yelled, all arms and legs, and a splash so big she had to turn her face away. When she looked back he’d disappeared beneath the water. She watched the bubbles and waited.

He came up gasping for air. ‘God, it’s cold.’ He looked as if he was crying as water clung to his eyelashes and dripped down his cheeks.

‘Feels good though, eh?’

‘It’s freezing!’

She swam to him, smiling. ‘Can’t you handle it?’

He splashed her. She splashed him back. He tried to dunk her, but he didn’t know she was fast and could get away from him easily. She let him almost catch her, then sank beneath the surface, came up behind him and dunked him first. She swam away laughing. She floated on her back and looked at the sky. She hoped she looked thin and in control. The way her lungs stretched and accommodated made her feel like an athlete.

She grabbed hold of a low branch and watched him swim up to her. He grabbed hold of it too and they hung there together. When they didn’t move, the river lay smooth, the water cloudy and dark.

‘What happens if you drink it?’ he said.

‘You die.’

He looked startled. ‘Serious?’

She gri

‘Why not?’

‘It’s tidal by then, so you never know what the depth is. There’s loads of sinking mud too.’

‘I like how you know things,’ he said, and he looked right at her.

‘You do?’

‘I like a lot about you, in fact.’

It sounded like such a line, she laughed.

‘Your lips are blue,’ he said.

He reached across and touched her mouth with his finger as if he could brush the cold away. And it was astonishing the things her body did in response – her heart racing, the crazy adrenalin rush. She wanted to kiss his finger. Or lick it. She wanted him to put it in her mouth.

‘You don’t exactly look warm yourself,’ she whispered.

‘Maybe we should get out then.’

But neither of them moved.

He leaned towards her. His eyes were brown flecked with dark gold. He kissed her very gently. His hand touched her cheek as if she was infinitely precious.

After a while, he pulled back and said, ‘I really think we should get out. You’re shivering like mad.’

She buried her nose and mouth in the curve of his neck and kissed him once there to say goodbye. Then the two of them clambered up the side of the riverbank and raced to the spot where they’d left their clothes.

She grabbed her tights to use as a towel; he did the same with his T‑shirt. They hopped about, teeth chattering, rubbing themselves dry.

‘Run,’ he said. ‘Come on, we need to get warm.’

He grabbed her hand and pulled her along the grass. At the trees she wheeled him round and made them skip back. They took it in turns with instructions. Up and down the riverbank – jumping one way, hopping back, pogo‑ing, aeroplane impressions (wings, plus engine sounds), before sinking ragged and laughing onto the grass.

‘That,’ he said, ‘has only just  begun to warm me up. I swear I’ve never been so cold in my life.’

‘You should try the sea next,’ she laughed. ‘And I don’t mean the sea anywhere tame, I mean the wild sea. My gran’s got this cottage over by the bay and there’s a great beach there. It’s got amazing waves, really ferocious. I’ll take you one day if you like.’

‘Promise?’

‘Course.’

And they both smiled, like they knew something, and his hand reached hers and clasped it tight, like being chosen and taken care of.

And that’s when his phone rang again.

Don’t answer it,  she thought. Stay here with me. But he let go of her hand, leaned over for his jacket and fumbled in the pocket for his phone. When he saw who it was he stood up and walked a few steps down the slope.

‘Again?’ he said. It was a different voice from the one he’d used earlier. It had an edge of fear to it. ‘What did you open it for? I told you not to. Why would you do that?’

He flicked Ellie a look.

‘Is it your sister?’ she mouthed.

He nodded, took a couple more steps down the slope. ‘All right, calm down, they’ve gone now. No, I’m not telling you off. Listen, Holly, this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to come and see you, OK? I’ll get Jacko to give me a lift and I’ll be with you in twenty minutes. No, babe, I can’t stay, I’ve got to go to work, but I’ll bring you a treat. What would you like me to bring?’

Ellie pulled her clothes towards her. She managed to unbutton her wet shirt and swap it for her cardigan and coat without him seeing as he said goodbye to his sister. He immediately made another call and arranged to meet his friend at the cemetery gate in ten minutes.

That was it then. Day over. She’d known it was too good to last.

He slid his phone shut and walked back up the slope. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘That sounded difficult.’

‘My sister’s upset. She’s only eight and some people knocked on the door and she opened it and scared herself.’

‘Wasn’t your mum there?’

‘She had to pop out.’

‘Who were the people?’

‘Um, no one, just random people. Anyway, I have to go.’

Ellie scrambled quickly into her skirt as if she’d been thinking the very same thing. Across the grass, he pulled on his jeans and socks and trainers. The moment when they’d kissed felt like a lifetime ago.