Read Swimming Pool Sunday for Free Online

laughter.
    ‘What’s that supposed to be? A baby grand? Honestly, Diana, you’re miles out. Now, this is where it could go, but it might be a tight squeeze …’
    By the end of the evening the floor plan was crisscrossed with outlines of pianos, and the question of whether or not Daisy actually wanted to live in the cottage had been forgotten. And the next evening her mother announced that she’d spoken to the estate agent, who had confirmed that there had indeed once been a grand piano in the sitting-room.
    ‘So there you are,’ said her mother triumphantly to Daisy. ‘All sorted. Now we just have to move you down there.’
    Daisy had been down there now for three weeks and was starting to get used to it. Living on her own was all right – she’d done that in Bologna – and so was practising for most of the day, but not knowing anybody nearby was very strange. All her life she’d been used to having friends about, either at school, or in London; even in Bologna there had always been the other students to talk to. It wasn’t as if she was a particularly sociable person. In fact, at school, she’d always been considered a loner. But being a loner when you were surrounded by 400 other girls was, she thought, a different matter from being a lonerwhen you were surrounded by empty fields.
    Her parents kept asking her if she’d started talking to the villagers.
    ‘I’m sure they’re very friendly,’ her mother would say, her voice coming, crisp and familiar, down the phone line. ‘Just ask them how the crops are growing, or how their cows are doing …’
    ‘Lots of them live in bungalows,’ Daisy objected, but her mother wasn’t listening.
    ‘And remember, you’re working there for us, in case anyone asks.’
    Daisy had remembered that when Mrs Mold had arrived.
    ‘I’m doing some work for my parents,’ she blurted out quickly, as Mrs Mold ran her hands lovingly over the curves of her piano. ‘For their company. It’s a management consultancy.’ But Mrs Mold wasn’t listening.
    ‘A Bösendorfer. You lucky thing. Do you mind if I have a play?’
    Mrs Mold wasn’t actually terribly good at the piano, Daisy thought now, as she looked up at the windows of Devenish House, shiny and opaque in the sun. But she seemed very kind, and it would be nice to see her today.
    She took a few steps back, until she was suddenly out of the shade of a huge rhododendron bush, and the sun was beating down on her face. She was sure today was the Swimming Day, but where was it all happening? Was she supposed to go round the side? What if she was somehow at the wrong house? She imagined herself bursting round the side of the house into a stranger’s garden, startling some innocent family drinking coffee on the lawn.
    She clutched her swimming things more tightly. Her mother’s voice, firm and impatient, floated into her mind. ‘For heaven’s sake, Daisy. Just ring the bell and ask. They won’t eat you.’
    The dark-blue front door was set in a rather grand porch, with grey pillars and a curved stone pediment and a bell-pull made from wrought iron. While she waited for someone to come to the door, Daisy looked around for clues, but the only other thing in the porch with her was a boot scraper shaped like a hedgehog; nothing about swimming. This was probably the wrong house. There were probably two Devenish Houses, she thought. Or maybe an Old Devenish House and a New Devenish House …
    ‘Hello?’ It was a man, with grey hair and a brown face and a jolly expression.
    ‘H-hello.’ Daisy couldn’t prevent her voice from trembling. ‘I was told …’ Suddenly she was lost for words. Was she really about to tell a strange man that she wanted to come and swim in his swimming-pool?
    ‘Have you come for the swimming?’ Hugh said, helpfully.
    ‘Y-yes!’ said Daisy thankfully. ‘My name’s Daisy Phillips. Mrs Mold told me …’
    ‘Ah, of course! Frances!’ said Hugh. ‘Well, you’re very welcome!’
    Daisy