The winner of our current Short Story Competition is published in the Jan|Feb issue of Irish Country Magazine, out now. This story came in second place and was written by Ruth Hunter
Dierdre loved everything about her local outdoor pool, and swam there before work whenever she could. The pool was heated, and open all year, and she’d swim in all weather.
When she was swimming, she didn’t think about anything. Not her busy work at the local primary school, not her lack of a social life, nothing at all. This was her happy place where she could escape the bustle of daily life and just be.
This particular morning was a chilly one. Snow dotted the chairs by the pool’s edge and steam rose from the water. The smell of coffee brewing, and bacon frying, wafted over from the café next door, and she swam slowly, looking forward to her breakfast.
Only one thing troubled her that morning. She’d noticed the posters in the changing room.
“Save Our Pool!” they proclaimed. “Put the Fun into Fundraising!”
Her beloved pool was at risk of closure, and everyone was being encouraged to do their bit to help.
Dierdre went to the café after her swim, empty but for one elderly gentleman sitting in the corner. He wore a tweed jacket, and was reading a newspaper.
“Morning!” she greeted him, before ordering herself a coffee. “Great day for a swim!”
He looked up as she sat down, and beamed back at her. “Oh yes! I was a swimmer once,” he said.
“I swam in the… “ he paused, trying to find the words… “in the…” He rubbed his forehead. “The…”
“The pool?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“The sea? That’s way too cold for me!”
He shook his head again. “The Olympics!” he exclaimed, triumphantly.
“Really? How wonderful! When was that?” Dierdre enquired.
The old man’s face went blank.
“I can’t…” he paused, searching for the words. “I can’t… now,” and picked up his paper again.
The next time they met, he asked her name. His face lit up when she told him.
“I had a dog called Dierdre!”
Dierdre laughed, and went to the counter to buy her coffee. She asked the café owner who the man was.
“Oh, that’s Tom” she said. “You’ll find him in here most days. Lovely fella, seems a bit quiet though.”
Dierdre returned to her seat, and Tom pushed his plate across to her, half a bacon sandwich on it.
“Would you like it?” he asked. “I… I can’t eat it all.”
She smiled a thank you, and helped herself.
He looked at her sadly. “I’m so sorry… “ he said. “Sometimes… I can’t find my words.”
They got into a comfortable routine over the winter.
Dierdre would go for her early morning swim, and she’d often meet Tom afterwards, and share a sandwich with him. Tom didn’t always say much, but he always seemed pleased to see her. She enjoyed telling him a little about her life, and found it helped her reflect on things. One quiet day, she told him how she felt her life was missing something. She worked hard, and enjoyed her swims, but maybe there was something more?
Tom appeared to listen intently, and she waited to see what he’d say. He paused, looked at her, and announced, “I like blue.”
Dierdre smiled, and they sat there in companiable silence, the radio playing in the background. Tom pulled out his newspaper, and Dierdre sipped at her coffee. The world outside could wait.
The pool staff and volunteers worked tirelessly throughout the festive season to try to raise the funds they needed, and Dierdre took part as often as she could. They held a Christmas fair, and sold hot dogs, mulled wine and mince pies. They staged a concert by the pool. Local musicians brought along their guitars and fiddles, Dierdre’s school choir sang carols, and people could listen to the music while swimming under the twinkling fairy lights and stars. It was a magical time.
Sadly, it seemed that it was never going to be enough to raise the funds they needed though, and the chatter by the pool was often about the risk of closure. Dierdre continued to meet Tom in the café after her morning swims, and she looked forward to it. Sometimes they would wrap up warm and sit outside on the deck, look up at the sky, and talk about the birds, and the shape of the clouds.
“Look! That one looks like a dolphin!” she laughed.
Tom smiled, but didn’t say anything. He said very little these days, and what he did say didn’t always make sense. They would still share a sandwich now and then, but he wasn’t always hungry.
Then one morning, he wasn’t there.
She asked about him at the counter, but there was a new assistant, who didn’t know who she was talking about. She didn’t see him again after that at all. One day, early in the New Year, she walked into the café, and ordered her coffee and a sandwich. Turning to find a place to sit, she saw a gentleman in a familiar tweed jacket sitting at the corner table, head bent over a newspaper.
“Tom?” she asked, walking over.
He raised his head. Of course, it wasn’t Tom. This man was far younger. He tilted his head to one side and peered at her.
“Are you Dierdre?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’m Seán, Tom’s son,” he said. “I think you knew my father.”
“Well, yes… we used to chat occasionally,” she spluttered, feeling awkward.
Seán paused before continuing. “I’m afraid Da passed away a few weeks ago. I came here to let you know. He used to mention you often.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and Dierdre couldn’t find her words. “I don’t know what to say…”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to thank you. He loved coming here, and I think maybe you saw something in him that others didn’t.”
He paused again. “Did he tell you he once swam in the Olympics?”
Dierdre nodded.
“He really did, you know! In his time, he was a world class athlete. Amazing really. As a boy, I used to see him compete and want to be like him. But then I grew up and got a job in Dublin… and life became so busy. I didn’t have the time to swim… or do anything other than work really. I didn’t even make the time to sit with him and listen to his stories…”
Seán looked like he might cry. He sat in silence for a moment, and collected his thoughts.
“Anyway, the other thing I wanted to say was that Da actually had an awful lot of money, and he’s left it all to the Pool. I don’t need it. I’d be delighted for it to go to you here. This really was his happy place.”
Again, Dierdre was lost for words. She looked around the café, and then outside at the pool, and felt a warm flush of hope. Smiling, she held her plate out towards him.
“Would you like half my sandwich?” she asked. “I can’t eat it all.”
Seán reached out his hand.
You can read the winning story in the Jan|Feb issue of Irish Country Magazine, in shops now.
