Don't stay, you can come back with me. 

The meaning in Jackie's expression had been clear as she made her way back to the changing rooms.  She had desperately wanted to follow, but what kind of excuse could she make.  It was all too late now anyway as Ferguson, hands on hips, was already instructing her to take the next dive.

The idea of an extra session every night for the next month had been no problem; after all it was the regional finals soon.  Zoey had been so thrilled.  It was what she had hoped for ages, despite those recent doubts, yet somehow it had all just fallen apart when at the end of normal practise she had realised that no one else from the club had qualified for the regionals and she was going to be left on her own with Ferguson and his wife.  It was much too late to go home with Jackie now.  She would just have to be on her guard.

‘You're not focussed enough tonight,’ tutted Ferguson hands still fixed to hips. 
‘Again, go and do it again.’  He flicked his fingers sharply towards the platform.  ‘Point, point, point.’

Zoey pushed herself up and out of the pool, her costume wet and clinging, conscious that his seedy little eyes were watching her all the way back to the platform. 

‘Relax dear,’ smiled Mrs F.  ‘You’re too tense.’ 

She’s right, mustn't let it show.  Dare not risk setting off one of Ferguson's rants, he is such a perfectionist and it would only make things worse.   Concentrate she told herself as she began to climb the steps.  But let’s face it he was right, she just wasn't in the zone this evening. 

At times she could stand there motionless at the edge of the board enrapt in total concentration.  Nothing could disturb her in those moments before she sprang into the air and let herself float downwards twisting and turning in whatever combination she desired.  She didn't even have to think about what she was doing, it would simply just happen. 

But tonight it just wasn't there and secretly she knew she hadn't been properly in the zone for weeks now.  It had felt the same when she had been forced to give up gymnastics and move to diving three years before, her body was changing then and didn’t seem to fit the apparatus anymore.  And where once it had seemed that she was in total control every time she confronted the water, now her body seemed too heavy, moved too fast an increasing struggle to do everything required before she made her entry. 

She couldn't be that bad though, she had made it through to the regionals after all.  No, it was simply that she felt so tired at the end of the week and that always made her feel down.  The same with the Ferguson thing really, she knew it was more about her being so self-conscious about her body than anything to do with him.  She just didn't like anyone looking at her anymore.

‘That's better,’ smiled Mrs F as she bobbed to the surface once more. 

Zoey knew training was nearly over; Ferguson always asked his wife to supervise the last dive whilst he went and changed.  She was much nicer than him, less critical and more constructive.  Sometimes she wished that Mrs F supervised all of the sessions yet knew that her husband was the one with the real technical expertise and she would never have made such progress without him. 

‘One last dive,’ said Mrs F.  Zoey returned the smile as she lifted herself out of the water.  ‘Then shower, change and home.’

Zoey shivered as she walked to the platform.

‘Cold dear?’

‘No,’ she replied and begun to climb the steps.  She always hated using the shower at the pool whatever the circumstances, but there was absolutely no way she was going to get in it tonight without any of the other girls present.  She knew what to do though.  Jackie had already helped her devise a plan.

‘Concentrate now,’ called Mrs F from the poolside.  Zoey looked down and noticed Ferguson had returned, his hair freshly greased back and wearing that crass check jacket which stunk of tobacco. 

Suddenly she could feel the nerves race through her as she gazed across the water towards the exit.

Usually she would try and save her best until last, not tonight, her back angled poorly as she entered the water creating a heavy splash.  She climbed out trying to ignore Ferguson's sarcastic tutting, just desperate to go now and get her belongings and get out of the building.  Of course she would have to sit in the minibus with him, but at least she felt safer there what with Mrs Ferguson seated up front and she wouldn't be able to see his eyes in the dark.

Zoey felt her heartbeat quicken as she entered the changing room and pushed the door firmly closed.  She hated the silence of the room, it seemed so still and different now she was there alone, even the mix of chlorine and disinfectant smelt more pungent than normal.

She knew what she had to do.  Furtively she glanced back towards the door, it was definitely shut, and pulled a rolled towel from her bag.  Next she thrust her hands back in and felt for her comb.  Her make-up, a bottle of water and nothing else. 

I know I packed it.  I did, I did.

Jackie had told her to always keep it close to hand and she was certain that she had placed it on top of the towel when she arrived.  The towel, of course, she shook the towel and the comb fell and clattered against the tiled floor. 

Zoey glared anxiously towards the door, she would have to hurry.  Without standing she patted the towel quickly against her legs, and arms and then across her body before dressing.  She had arrived wearing her swimming costume underneath her school clothes, a tip Jackie had given her when she had first started at the club, and now she would go home wearing it.  And she wouldn't care if she got cold; it wasn't that far to travel in any case.

Flicking away the excess moisture with her hand she began to comb her hair more relaxed now that she was fully clothed and out of sight of any prying eyes. 

Suddenly she grasped the comb tighter as the handle to the changing room turned and the door opened.

‘Zoey?’

It was okay it was Mrs F calling from the doorway.

‘Yes?’ she replied her voice quietly trembling with guilt.

‘Don't forget your money next time love.  It is overdue.’

Zoey could see she was waiting by the light switch, smiling as always, and ready to leave.  ‘Sorry, Mrs F.’

‘You ready?  We don't want to get stuck in the fog, do we.'

It was time to go.  ‘Yes, coming.’  She dropped the comb into her bag and walked towards the exit.

‘Whatever you doing dear?’ Zoey froze her pathway blocked.  She had never heard Mrs F’s voice sound so harsh.  ‘Your hair so wet.  You should know better than that.’ 

'It's okay Mrs F.  I always…'

'You certainly do not.  Your clothes soaking too.’

‘No they’re not,’ she mumbled knowing how pathetic were her choice of words.

‘Don’t defy me.’ Mrs F thrust her finger sharply into the girl’s blouse made unmistakably diaphanous by the wet swimming costume beneath.  ‘Now go and change properly and stop acting like a child.’

Mrs F turned Zoey so that she was facing back into the changing room before prodding her forwards.

‘But…’ whimpered Zoey.  She felt so frail, so helpless.  She couldn’t stop the tears.

‘Don't be silly, dear.’  Her voice had softened.  Her hand too against her shoulder seemed reassuring.  It didn’t hurt this time.  ‘We all look alike.’

She should do as she was asked; she didn’t want to cause a scene she just wanted to get home. 

‘I'm sorry,’ she mumbled wiping the tears from her cheek as she walked back to her usual place. 

She said no more.  She just knew that she was going to have to undress now.