The Life Jacket

Sweat appeared on my forehead, like dragée balls, as I walked out of the cinema, hoping it would be cooler in the corridor. The light put pressure on my eye lids, forcing them to squint as they adjusted to the light outside of the cinema. My Nan walked alongside me squeezing my hand, so I didn’t get lost amongst the crowd of singing ABBA fans. We met Granddad and Ben in the Lobby, sitting down eating Nachos. Ben’s face was screwed up like yesterdays newspaper- he never was one for the taste of salsa.

“So how was Mamma Mia?” Granddad asked us, as we joined them at the table

“Good!” Nan answered. She smiled at Ben, who was attempting the salsa one more time. “Not as good as the show but still a great film. How was Wall-E?”

“Well Ben enjoyed it, didn’t you mate?” Ben’s face turned from crumpled to elated with the sound of his new favourite film

“Yeah! Wall-eeeee. Ev-aaaaaa” He chanted while he made his power ranger fly around my ears, making whooshing sounds. I pushed it away- I knew he slept with that thing in his mouth; my ear is the last place I wanted it.

“Right who wants to go on a Pedalo?”

“I do I do I do!” Ben sung. His eyes were agate marbles. Nan and Granddad looked at me and I nodded a little, like someone adjusting there rear view mirror.

I tried to hide my fear as we walked outside. My legs stepped one in front of the other, the boardwalk creaked as we neared the line of blue boats swaying on the lake. The sterns were camouflaged with algae. I could hear children playing on the grass; the smell of fast food travelling from the food court made me hungry.

‘Nanny... Do you reckon they will let me on without a life jacket?’

‘I’m sure if I ask them nicely they will’

‘Thank you!’ I began to relax my shoulders a little.

We got closer to the lanky bald man with pasty skin. He perched on a canvas beach chair and I could see my face in his sunglasses. My eyebrows crinkled with panic and the realization that this stranger could force me into a life jacket. The very thought of wearing one was like my father standing on my chest.

‘What size life jacket is she?’ The man asked Nan. He smelt of cigarettes and liquorice allsorts.

‘Is it possible for her to board without one? She’s had plenty of swimming lessons- a really confident swimmer! She just hates wearing life jackets- they make her feel uncomfortable and a little claustrophobic’

‘If she’s under 16 she has to wear one I’m afraid; safety regulations.’

I hid behind Nan’s leg. It felt nice there- in the shade. Away from that man’s stupid sunburnt head. Sure, he had sunglasses on but I could tell he was looking at me. I could hear him asking himself: What sort of silly 10 year old girl would prefer to fall in a lake than wear a life jacket?

Nan looked at me and sighed. I couldn’t stop the tears in my eyes escaping as I shook my head. I knew what she was going to ask me- If there was any chance I would try it on. But there wasn’t. I could smell the plasticy chlorine smell from here; there buckles big and black- so you couldn’t move around in them. As Ben put his one on, I could already see his cheeks being pushed up. He looked like Violet Beauregarde after she ate the three course meal bubble gum.

Granddad gave the man some money and Nan took my hand again. We walked over the bridge, and sat on a bench where we could watch Granddad and Ben pedalling around the Lake.

All of a sudden I felt terrible. I wanted to run back inside the shopping mall and spend hours in between Claire’s accessories and the kids section at Waterstones, where the chairs were shaped like jungle animals. But I didn’t want to leave Nan alone and she probably wouldn’t be able to find me. They’d have to get somebody to make one of those loud announcements and it would be really embarrassing- twice as embarrassing as being told I couldn’t go on a Pedalo because I wouldn’t wear a life jacket.

Through Nan’s video camera I watched Ben and Granddad smiling. Granddad had to try really hard because Ben’s feet couldn’t reach the pedals and he kept driving then into the bank. I could see Granddad getting a little frustrated but I giggled anyway because I thought it was really funny. I did also feel a little bad for him because sometimes his lungs get poorly and I thought it probably would have made more sense for Nan to have gone with Ben instead. But I liked Nan sitting next to me, her hand rested on my knees with her pink nail varnish starting to chip. I couldn’t help but notice her wrinkly knuckles. She smelt of the lavender bags you heat up in the microwave.

She uncovered a plastic sandwich bag from her Mantaray rucksack and passed it to me.

‘Ssshhh’ she whispered ‘Don’t tell Ben’. I smiled and zipped my lips together with my finger and thumb. Inside the bag was a mixture of chewits, flying saucers and Haribo sweets. Nan always made me feel special even though I knew I had sort of ruined her day by not wanting to go on the Pedalo.  Of course I left the Haribo eggs and hearts, because I don’t like the white foam. But I secretly saved them for Ben, hiding them in my pocket for the car journey home in Granddad’s old Volvo estate.