Beside her, Erik nodded, but only Ella heard him mutter, ‘Mhmmm.’
‘It’s also a very long time since I last saw Ella, who I understand is going to be leading swimming lessons for kids here, and swimming for fitness and therapy at the pool, using training techniques and programs that Erik’s been devising all of his coaching life.
‘So, Chalk Hill, you are very lucky to have both of these people here, and your new town pool is in very good hands.’
With that, a perspiring Marshall handed the loud speaker to Irene, and took the scissors from Ella (who didn’t turn them in her hand and pass them politely to him by the point— sue her).
Ella and Erik took a fresh hold on the red ribbon, and Marshall sliced it neatly, straight down the middle.
‘Now you can go for a swim!’ Irene called over the speaker, and a river of kids and adults poured into the pool building. ‘No diving. No bombies. No running,’ Irene hollered after them.
* * *
‘I didn’t know there was any bad blood,’ a very excited Helen Nillson said a few minutes later when she’d waded through the crowd to find an equally hot-under-the-collar Irene.
Jake couldn’t hide his amusement. Helen said bad blood like she’d been watching too much Game Of Thrones.
‘Neither did I,’ Irene whispered.
‘How could we know?’ Sally added, with a pleading glance at Jake.
‘Please don’t worry, ladies. I’m sure it will all be okay. And the good news is you’ve given them a chance to work it all out,’ Jake said.
All those old-lady heads turned to where Erik, Ella and Marshall had gathered in a neat trifecta out of the sun. The Network 8 cameras weren’t far away.
‘I hope we didn’t do the wrong thing,’ Helen said.
‘I wonder what it’s all about?’ Sally said, turning again to Jake.
‘Don’t look at me, ladies.’ He raised his hands, signalling surrender. ‘Now, have any of you seen Sam? Ella sent me to find him.’
‘Try the bouncy castle. All the kids are over there,’ Irene said.
‘Thanks.’
Jake wandered away, trying not to show the urgency that gripped him. He needed to find Sam before the boy saw Marshall, or before one of Marshall’s network colleagues did. Wouldn’t put it past the scumbag to have a camera pointed at Sam right about now.
Sam was on his own, standing outside the bouncy castle looking through the plastic windows at all the other kids having fun.
When Jake found him, Sam whacked his purple-clad arm with his other hand. ‘I am so sick of having this thing on all the time.’
‘Not much longer, mate,’ Jake said, hunkering down so he was nearer the boy’s height. ‘Hey, mate, your mum wants you, buddy.’
‘Aww, right now? Do we have to go already?’
‘I don’t think you’re leaving yet, but you need to come with me. Ella needs to talk to you about someone and there’s someone here you’ll want to meet.’
‘Not a politician. Those old dudes are all so boring.’
Jake snorted. ‘Not a politician.’
‘Who then?’ Sam said, getting stubborn in a hurry.
Was it his position to say? Ella wouldn’t care. Not now.
‘Your dad is here, mate. Your real one.’
Sam’s face screwed tight with concentration. ‘The swimmer dad?’
‘Yup. That one.’
‘I thought he lived a long way away. How could he be here?’
‘You and your mum wrote to him, didn’t you? He must want to meet you.’ Jake hoped for Marshall’s sake that it was the truth, and not some publicity stunt, because that pony looked like it was ready for lunch.
* * *
‘So you got my email, Marshall?’ Ella began, once the crowd thinned and she had space to think, and if she was ever going to find a good time to talk to Marshall, this was it.
‘I did. I also got an invite via the Network from your town pool committee asking me to come. The pool invite came first.’ He shrugged. ‘I talked to the producer, said we had history and that this might be the chance for me to have a reunion with my son, and he agreed with me that there were two stories in it. It’s coming up to the ratings period, you know.’
‘I bet he leapt at it,’ Ella said sourly. What television producer worth his salt wouldn’t leap at a story like this?
‘I couldn’t care less about you opening the pool, Marshall. All I care about is Sam. He’s here somewhere, and he is a young boy who desperately wants to meet his real dad. I wish to heck it wasn’t you, but there you go. Can’t help bad luck.’
‘Not bad luck. Mhmmm,’ Erik muttered from the side.
Marshall’s gaze snagged his former coach, and just as he might have done all those years ago, he dropped his head and kicked at a loose stone like he might once have kicked a tile on the pool deck. ‘I meant what I said, Erik. I never swam as fast after I left Perth. My PBs were all set when I swam with your squad.’
‘So why leave?’ Ella demanded.
‘I wasn’t the only one who thought about leaving the squad. I was just the only one who had the guts,’ Marshall answered.
‘Guts?’ It was so not what Ella anticipated she’d hear. ‘Nowhere in this whole sorry thing have you shown any guts.’ She nearly spat it at him.
‘The other guys in the squad said you favoured Ella,’ Marshall said to Erik. ‘She was the little protégé who couldn’t do any wrong. You never yelled at her like you did at all us others. She never had to listen to you rant and rave.’
‘Because Ella just got in and did the work,’ Erik said in his man-of-steel way. ‘Every time. Every session.’
Marshall kicked another stone, burying his hands in his pockets, and he turned
