Chapter 2: DAY 2

“Oh! Mr. Skythe, do you have a minute?” The she-alligator smiled with all her teeth, good news? “I rang the boys’ camp, sorry, no go, they have all the buddies they need. That’s what their camp calls camp friends.”

“Oh, well, never mind, thank you for trying. Would it be possible to have a lift back on one of the coaches, the buses I mean, bringing the campers?” Inside he was panicking, where would he go, could he get M&D to wire some money, what the fuck was he going to do?

“Perhaps, but I do have another idea I’ve been mulling over. I saw you help with the boats yesterday evening.”

“Oh yes, Marie-Anne could do with some help I think. We rigged the others this morning.”

“Yes, I saw. That was kind of you; you like sailing? I saw that you put down sailing and archery as your sports. As you know we are short of a sailing instructor assistant. Would you be interested? Marie-Anne said she thought you should be the leader...”

“That wouldn’t be fair Ma’am, She was offered the role, to demote her now, even at her suggestion, wouldn’t seem right. But yes, yes I’d love to help out.”

“You’d be expected to help with other sports, archery certainly, basketball, netball, that sort of thing ... well, maybe not netball. And there would have to be strict rules, no entering any of the girls dorm-huts of course, you heard the history of the co-ed camps I’m sure.” He had, in glorious, salacious, detail from Marie-Anne and another girl who had drifted down and been dragged in to help this morning. (‘They were found doing it on the floor of the showers! And she was only thirteen. They’re still married though’) “Where did you learn to sail?”

“I regularly went on a summer camp with a Christian group to the Norfolk Broads. Regarding the rest. Yes, no, that would be fine. I’d be pleased to help where I can.”

She smiled even more broadly – a Christian! Just right. ‘God’ he thought, ‘she could swallow a whole zebra with that mouth.’ For the rest of the time there, he couldn’t help imagining her as an alligator waiting to pounce on a surprised victim. He saw it happen occasionally – when a camper dropped a sweet wrapper for example – and was grateful not to be on the menu.

So with one bound (he thought) he was free, free of having to understand bloody American Football, free of an ignominious return to the UK, free to enjoy the summer. For the first time he contemplated the gender imbalance in the camp, and smiled. Not that it was some lascivious, evil, paedophilic, cradle snatching smile. He was after all the same age as many of the camp friends and only a little older than many of the kids who would arrive today. That kind of preying on the weak was more a factor of older people. No, he just naturally preferred to be in the company of pretty, young women (or even less than pretty – a large girl walked by, Mary-Jo was large, cheerful and surprisingly sexy. She winked at him) than smelly, sweat-encrusted, jocks. Who wouldn’t?

At the basketball court, at one end three camp friends were running round (and you couldn’t help noticing that running caused their shirts to rise and fall in a ... no! watch the ball not the shirt!) playing shots; at the other end four were taking it in turns to be shooter (or whatever it was) and defenders. Frankly, he thought, both netball and basketball games look like the waste of an hour that could be spent watching paint grow or grass dry. Hmm, he’d have to remember that Spoonerism (if that was what it was). Down to the sailing shed to find Marie-Anne.

“Hi! Guess what, I’m staying. I think I’m a test case to see if testosterone can be safe around girls.”

“Knowing some of the girls coming I think the question is whether you’ll be safe. They’ll be round you like wasps at a honey pot, STOP SMILING! Or flies round shit”

“Thanks for that analogy. Anyway I’m to help at the sailing primarily. Do you think it would be a good idea to test a boat for handling characteristics?”

“Oh? ... you mean? ... go for a sail? Yeeeeees, that would be an excellent use of our time.”

“You can give me a quick primer on Netball rules while we’re out if you like. I may have to help there too.”

“Girls can only take two steps, then have to throw the ball to someone else. Only one girl allowed to shoot. Next!”

“There must be more to it than that”

“Well, you are meant to wear a sexy little pleated short skirt that flaps as you jump around. Not sure that’s in the rules, but I always thought the skirts were the best bit. I had one when I was 11 and loved the way it hung. I guess you won’t be needed to check the uniform though. We could take a boat each? It’s quite a light wind.”

“No, probably no. And yes, excellent idea.”

Lifejackets on, they went to the two outer boats. Marie-Anne got in one, rowed out a little and then put the sails up. Clive put the sails up and let them flap, untied and backed the jib to bring the bow round. The boat picked up a little speed, he pushed the tiller hard over to swing head to wind to avoid the end of the staithe and then back again to carry on sailing.

“Show off!” shouted Marie-Anne, “Still, quite fancy sailing!”

He let the compliment hang, he didn’t mention that he hadn’t realised how quickly he’d head towards the staithe, it was touch and go. That would have been embarrassing.

They sailed out into the lake and practiced some manoeuvres: tacking, running, goose-winging and then a few controlled gybes. “If you were in a swimming costume we could try capsizing and righting.” shouted Clive.

“I’m up for it if you aren’t a wimp. We don’t get to do that on Daddy’s boat – thank goodness.” She laughed back. They agreed this would be better in one boat so they returned to the staithe, dropped his sails and left it tied up and then sailed out again with two up. At 100 yards out, with the wind on the beam he told Marie-Anne to sheet in hard. The boat began to heel and they instinctively leant out; remembering the plan they moved back to the centre of the boat and it tipped up and over. Clive moved quickly and as the boat went up onto its side he ‘walked’ over the side to stand on the dagger board. Marie-Anne bobbed up from under the boat.

“Oh, you bastard ... I mean you ... I mean oohhhh!”

“Relax, I’m not some Baptist clean-mouthed do-gooder”

“I’m a Baptist!”

“But not so pure in mouth?” He leant back and pulled her up on the dagger board which tipped the balance and the boat righted itself. She fell back into the water and came up laughing. He had climbed back over the side as the boat righted itself. He was virtually dry.

The boat drifted with Marie-Anne holding the side. Leaning over Clive pulled her in. It isn’t a very elegant position to be pulled over the side of the boat. Her shorts were more see-through than they had been dry. They clung to her, revealing the clear line of her pants, a fact he could not help but see. He was pretty sure she’d win a wet teeshirt competition too, but the lifejacket hid any view there.

As they came back to land, Jo-Lene was standing waiting “Is everyone okay? I saw you had some difficulties.”

“Oh, no ma’am,” (she liked that – very respectful) “we were just practising recovery from a capsize. It’s always better to do it deliberately so you know what to do if it happens accidentally.”

Marie-Anne joined in “It’s kind-of fun too, some of the more adventurous girls might enjoy trying it.”

“Oh ... Okay, well that’s fine I guess. You’d better get dried out, the girls will be here in an hour or so.”

It was good to know that they’d been seen, in case there had been a problem. It was also good to realise now that nothing appeared to go on without her seeing it, at least in the hours of daylight. Something to remember. He began to imagine Jo-Lene as some kind of all-seeing eye: “Oh No! She’s Sauron!” he said and Marie-Anne looked quizzically at him.