Читать книгу Iggy and Me and The Happy Birthday - Jenny Valentine - Страница 4

My name is Flo and I have a little sister called Iggy.

Iggy was learning to swim. Dad said she was taking her time about it. This was because Iggy pretended to swim by walking about in the shallow end and doing all the right things with her arms.

“The top half has got it,” said Dad, “but somebody forgot to tell the legs.”

Iggy didn’t think her legs needed to be told.

“Look,” she said. “Swimming is easy.” And she hopped from one foot to the other and flapped her arms about.

Dad said she looked like a duck coming in to land.

Mum said, “Iggy, that isn’t swimming.”

“Yes it is,” Iggy said.

I was keeping out of it.

On the way home on the bus, Iggy was falling asleep. Dad said she was tired from all her underwater running.

“I’m not tired,” Iggy said, opening one eye and then closing it again. “And I wasn’t running.”

“What are we going to do with you?” said Mum. “How are we going to teach you to swim?”

“I can swim,” Iggy said.

“Half of you can,” Dad said. Iggy folded her arms and turned away.

“How did I learn to swim?” I said.

“We dropped you in the water when you were a baby,” Dad said.

Iggy sniggered and then pretended it was a snore.

“Dad!” I said. “That’s not very nice!”

“We didn’t drop you,” Mum said, elbowing Dad. “We were in the pool with you and we let you go.”

“Is that allowed?” I said.

Mum said, “We went to special classes. We didn’t just throw you in.”

Dad said that all babies knew how to swim if you just dunked them in and helped them to remember.

Mum said, “Babies are surrounded by water when they’re in the womb.”

I looked at Mum’s tummy. Iggy opened her eyes again.

“Why didn’t you do that to Iggy?” I said.

“We tried,” said Mum. “But she didn’t like it.”

“You didn’t like it,” said Dad.

“She was crying,” Mum said.

“Screaming,” said Dad.

“Iggy didn’t take to it like you, Flo,” said Mum. “You were a little fish.”

Iggy sat up straight on the bus seat. She said, “I don’t want to be a fish. Who’d want to be a fish?”

“Exactly,” said Dad. “Who wants to be a fish when they can be a piglet?” And he tickled her until she snorted.

Later that week, Iggy had her first swimming lesson. I went with Mum to watch while Dad was at work.

It was in a secret, special pool that was hidden from all the other pools. You wouldn’t know it was there. It was small and there was no deep end – you could stand anywhere in it. And the water was warm, nearly hot, like a bath.

There were four other people in Iggy’s class:

 a boy with Spider-man goggles and Incredible Hulk trunks;

 a girl with orange hair and an orange bikini, who cried and wouldn’t look at the water;

 a girl with a special float-suit on that meant she couldn’t sink, and which was probably cheating;

 and a boy from school called James, who was wearing pink armbands and looked even crosser than Iggy.

“I want to go home,” Iggy said. “I don’t like swimming lessons.”

“You’ve never had one before,” Mum said. “You might like it.”

Iggy frowned and put her towel over her head. “I don’t want one,” she said.

“Too late,” said Mum. “I just paid for six.”

It was really hot in there with all our clothes on, and a bit funny-smelling, of pool water and other things. I took my coat off. The floor was wet so I had to keep it on my knee which was just as hot as wearing it. Everyone’s mums and dads and brothers and sisters were sitting on a bench at the side of the room. We were waiting for the teacher.

The orange haired girl still wasn’t looking at the water. The boy in the goggles was fiddling with his trunk;

James’s mum was blowing up his armbands till they were too tight for him to take off. Iggy was hiding under her towel.

When the teacher came in she looked a bit like a mermaid. She had long wavy hair like mermaids do. She was wearing flip-flops and a red T-shirt that said LITTLE SPLASHERS on it in yellow writing. She got in the water with her T-shirt on.

Iggy appeared from under her towel at the sound of flip-flops. “Is she allowed to do that?” she said.

“I suppose so,’ said Mum.

The teacher’s name was Sasha. She called the class over to sit on the edge of the pool. The orange girl’s mum had to go with her. You could see she was worried about her clothes getting wet.

“Let’s see what you can do,” Sasha said.

The orange girl did crying on dry land.

The floating girl did floating.

The boy with the goggles did splashing his brother.

James did doggy paddle and swallowing too much water.

And Iggy did running on the spot and flapping her arms.

“Very good,” said Sasha.

Iggy looked at us and pulled a face that said, “See? I told you I could swim.”

Sasha said, “Who can put their head underwater?”

Iggy ducked under and came back up again. “I told you so,” her face said.

“Who can open their eyes down there?”

“Easy peasy,” Iggy’s smile said.

“Who can make their bottom float up to the surface?”

Iggy’s smile disappeared. She looked at the others. Floating girl could. James could. The Incredible Hulk could.

Iggy couldn’t. She lifted one leg, and then the other. One half of her bottom floated at a time, but not the whole thing.

“Oh dear,” Mum said. “It’s the moment of realisation.”

“What’s that mean?” I said.

“Iggy just found out she can’t swim,” said Mum.

Iggy’s was frowning. She was biting her lip. Her face didn’t say, “See?” any more. It said, “Help!”

“Come on, Iggy!” we said. “You can do it!”

Iggy’s face said, “No I can’t.”

“Right,” Sasha said to Iggy. “Let’s have a look at you.”

Iggy did balancing on one leg at a time.

Sasha put her hand under Iggy’s tummy. Both her feet left the floor and her whole bottom did floating. Iggy looked very surprised.

“That,” Sasha said, “is what swimming feels like. Have a go.”

Iggy flapped her arms and legs about like a wild thing, while her teacher held her up.

“Perfect,” said Sasha.

“Perfect,” said Iggy in the changing room.

“Perfect,” she said on the bus.

“Perfect,” she said when Dad asked her how the lesson went.

“What was the teacher like?” he said.

“Perfect,” Iggy said.

I said, “She looked like a mermaid.”

“No she didn’t,” Iggy said.

“I think she did.”

Iggy looked at me like I was crazy. She said, “Flo, mermaids don’t have any legs.”

Mum and Dad laughed.

I said, “I meant her hair mainly.”

“Oh,” she said.

“What did you do?” said Dad.

“Swimming, silly,” Iggy said.

“Oh,” said Dad. “How do you do ‘swimming, silly’? Do you hop up and down and splash your top half about?”

Iggy looked cross, Mum said, “Stop it,” and Dad said, “OK.”

I was keeping out of it again.

“We did floating bottoms,” Iggy said. “If you must know.”

“What’s a floating bottom?” said Dad.

Iggy giggled.

“How do you float a bottom?” Dad said. “I have to know.”

Iggy said, “It’s easy. You let go with your feet.”

“Maybe you could show me next time we go swimming,” Dad said.

Iggy said, “Can we go now?”

“Not now, Iggy,” said Mum. “It’s almost bedtime.”

“Can we go tomorrow?” Iggy said.

“Maybe,” said Mum. “I think we probably could.”

“Good,” said Iggy. “Then I can show all of you.”

Iggy went to all six of her swimming lessons. Then she went to six more.

One day we were all swimming. Mum and Dad, and Iggy and me. I was being a mermaid and going underwater to find treasure. Dad threw his goggles for me and I dived down for them. They were the treasure.

Iggy was swimming along behind. Her feet weren’t touching the bottom. Her legs were kicking and her arms were flapping and she was doing everything right. She swam up to Dad and held on to him to get her breath back.

“I’ve got bad news for you, Iggy,” he said.

“What?” Iggy said. Her hair was all wet and peaky, and drops of water kept dripping in her eyes. “What?” she said again.

“You’ve turned into a fish,” Dad said.

Iggy smiled. “It’s better than being a piglet,” she said, and she swam off, with her whole bottom floating, to find Mum.