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The diver jumps backwards off the board but then swoops forwards before facing down and entering the water.
‘Perhaps a break by the coast is what you need?’ Delphi asked as she topped up her glass. Natalie’s knife and fork hovered above her plate. ‘This could be your way of making it up to me after the Prunella debacle.’ They both laughed. They had reached a point where they could see the funny side of it, and it was such a relief to laugh: the glow in her belly, the lightness in her face.
She had run to West London, to Delphi’s family. She had avoided facing her brother William and their strained relationship, avoided having to tell him how she’d thrown it all away. Avoided the lecture, avoided his wife, and him finding her a job, any job, whether she wanted it or not.
‘But seriously,’ Delphi pressed on with the same request she’d made earlier that day. ‘A holiday would do us both the world of good and Jack has been working on Mother and Father to let me go. They’re much more likely to say yes if I’m with both of you.’
Jack’s escape plan had come together. He had got a job, as the Lido Manager in a resort on the south coast. He’d been trying hard not to look too pleased with himself, but the whistling betrayed exactly how happy he was.
‘The British diving coach will be travelling the coast this summer,’ he’d explained. ‘He will watch all of the competitions and select his team for the Berlin games next year.’
The escape plan applied to Delphi too. He had an idea she could teach keep-fit at the Lido; a more realistic option than training as an instructor with the League. Delphi had been weighed down by tiredness since their trip to Olympia, and this had made her more determined than ever to get out, keep busy and stay awake. What appeared to be standing in the way of this plan was Natalie.
‘It will be perfect. Dance halls and concerts and What the Butler Saw on the pier. And our own fitness classes too,’ Delphi pressed on.
‘I’ve told you, I don’t think I can.’
‘You’re not still holding out on that letter you wrote to the Board of Education, are you?’
She forked in a mouthful of roast potato.
‘Oh, Natty dear. They don’t understand the meaning of clemency. To hell with them, I say.’
‘It’s easy for you to say when your parents are happy to feed and clothe you and
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