‘Or rowing,’ adds Luca, looking just as dejected as everyone else.
‘You don’t know how much that river means to me,’ says Sandra, her voice far quieter than usual.
‘I know, we all love it there,’ says Kate, passing her an understanding smile. But Sandra shakes her head.
‘There’s something I need to tell you. It’s about my father.’ She sniffs loudly. ‘We were always so close. My mum died when I was young, you see, so, for most of my life, it was just me and Dad and my sister. He wasn’t at all fazed by having twodaughters – he did everything with us, playing with us, taking us swimming, learning how to do our hair. And when we grew up, he became an amazing grandfather too, so hands-on and involved.’
‘He sounds great,’ says Kate.
Sandra sniffs again.
‘He was. And the river was his favourite place in the world.’
There’s quiet as everyone takes in the meaning of Sandra’s words.
‘He passed away a year ago. He might have been eighty-five, but the truth is, I still miss him every day.’
‘What was his name?’ Kate asks quietly, already guessing the answer.
‘Thank you for asking. His name was Bert.’
Kate blinks rapidly, a lump in her throat, and notices that the other women’s eyes have grown shiny too.
‘When I came here the week after Dad died, that’s when I saw the kingfisher for the first time. It’s not that I think my father hasactuallybeen reincarnated as a kingfisher – I’m not totally bonkers – but whenever I’m at the river, I feel him around me. “Morning Has Broken” was his favourite hymn. We sang it at his funeral and whenever I sing it, I think of him.’
‘Oh, Sandra,’ is all Kate can manage to say.
‘I’m so sorry,’ says Phoebe, reaching out a hand and squeezing Sandra’s arm.
‘I haven’t told you everything either,’ says Jazz suddenly. The others look in her direction and she takes a deep breath, brushing her curly blonde hair away from her face. ‘I suffer from chronic pain. It’s why I had to move back home. I wasstruggling to cope with living on my own. I’ve spent the last few years going back and forth to a whole bunch of doctors, but they all end up telling me I’m mad, that the pain is in my head. But sometimes it’s so bad I can’t even get out of bed. Then I read an article about how cold water can help some people manage their chronic pain.’
‘Has it helped?’ asks Phoebe.
Jazz nods. ‘I couldn’t believe it, initially. The cold is always a shock at first – painful, almost – but once we get going, it always gets so much better. When I swim, it’s like I’m not even aware of my body. Thatneverhappens. Something always,alwayshurts.’
Her normally bouncy voice shakes. Kate thinks back to the evening when they helped move all the furniture into Phoebe’s flat and how Jazz held back, directing proceedings because she said she’d done her back in.
‘Oh, honey, that’s awful,’ says Sandra, pulling the younger woman into a hug.
‘I can’t believe you’ve been dealing with so much,’ says Kate. ‘You poor thing.’
Sandra and Jazz part, but Kate notices that Sandra has taken hold of Jazz’s hand and Jazz doesn’t let go.
‘Chronic pain is super common. But it has made life pretty … difficult. I watch my friends moving on with their lives, but I feel like I’m stuck. I’m still hopeful I might one day get some better help from doctors, but in the meantime, swimming is the one thing that helps. But I don’t think I could manage driving to any swimming spots further afield. It would just be too much for me.’
‘I think I’m going to fail my exams,’ blurts out Hester suddenly, her already pink cheeks burning crimson. ‘It’s not that I’m stupid or anything. It’s just … whenever I sit down in front of an exam paper, it’s like my mind goes completely blank, like there’s this bright light shining in my eyes and I can’t see or think anything. But whenever I swim in the river … Well, I feel sort of OK afterwards. Like I can breathe again.’
There’s a brief silence as they all sit with the weight of everyone’s stories. Kate thinks about the first meet-up of the mental health swimming group too and of her mum friends who manage to carve out rare moments for themselves by the river. She thinks about her swim with Erin. And of all those mornings when she fled to the river and may only have paddled her toes but still found comfort and release on the water’s edge among the reeds and the willows.
Then there are all the swimmers, kayakers and rowers who use the river who she has never even spoken to, but who all have their own reasons for choosing that particular stretch of river.
‘So, what are we going to do about it then?’ says Sandra, taking a deep breath, the usual vigour returning to her voice.
Kate can’t help but smile. She glances at Jay and he nods at her, urging her onwards.
‘Well, Imayhave been doing a bit of research this afternoon …’
She reaches under the papers on the table for her notebook. There are printouts poking from between the pages, sticky tabs marking out particularly useful pieces of information. Colour-coded, obviously.
