Mr. Darcy Goes Overboard (6 page)

Lizzy's curiosity was soon to be satisfied. Their official training session complete, the lifeguards took it upon themselves to organise a riotous game of volleyball, which her younger sisters joined in with gusto. The lifeguards, now off duty, stripped off their yellow shirts to reveal a range of fine torsos. The girls, most already in bikinis, had no further garments to strip off, and the game started immediately. The lifeguards, though clearly the better players, were gentlemen at heart and encouraged the girls to leap and run for the ball, snatching it from them at the last moment, causing many a shriek and a tumble and a fumble in the sands. Meanwhile, Mary was complaining the sun was too hot, despite wearing a bonnet, and so Jane, kindness as always, offered to accompany her to the charming Winking Prawn, where they could enjoy a cool lemonade and recover in the shade.

Lizzy, in thoughtful mood, wandered over to the rocks to explore a little, hoping to catch a common limpet off guard and prize it momentarily off its foundations or to enjoy watching the sea anemones waving in the shallow waters.

'Is that a beadlet?'

An amiable, pleasant-sounding voice made her jump and almost lose her footing. A firm hand grabbed her arm to steady her, and she looked up to find herself staring into the merry eyes of Mr Wickham.

'Oh, Mr Wickham! You made me start! Are you not playing volleyball?'

'No. I would much prefer to seek out treasures over here. I have always loved rock pools since I was a small boy and take every opportunity I can to come to tease out lovely limpets and pretty periwinkles.'

To Lizzy's surprise, she acknowledged he must be telling the truth for, in his other hand, not the one that still held her arm so charmingly, he held a fishing net and bucket.

The two were soon crouched down over pools, delighting in their finds, when the conversation turned, by Wickham's initiation, to Darcy. He enquired how long Mr Darcy had been in Salcombe.

'About a week or so. He has a beast of a yacht here--the
Pemberley
.'

'Yes. He has a fat wallet indeed. In fact, you could not have met with a person more capable of giving you such information--for I have been connected with his family from my Pampers days.'

Lizzy was all astonishment.

'Yes, you may look surprised. It is a sorry tale of events which I will not tire you with. Mr Darcy's father was the most amiable of men, who, when my fortunes suffered a blow as a child, took me in and brought me up as his own. Darcy, I'm afraid, was horribly jealous. His padre had always wished me to follow into the family business, but when a place became vacant, I am afraid old Mr Darcy had already passed away, and young Darcy gave the position to another. I was left penniless, but I managed to scrimp and save, go to uni' where... well here I am!'

'But that is outrageous! What disgraceful behaviour of Darcy. I thought ill of him before, but this is too much!'

Lizzy looked so angry and put out that Wickham felt quite sorry for her.

'Don't be upset on my behalf! A young man these days should have to make his own way. I see it as a great fortune that I have not had too much handed on a plate. Unlike Darcy, I am a free man. The world is my oyster!' And with that, he held up a periwinkle as if an oyster and, looking directly at Lizzy, added, '...and who knows what pearls I might find.'

Tuesday was the long-awaited Salcombe Harbour Swim. Bingley, who had promised a breakfast party on this day, had been forced to change his plans, having been unaware that he would be clashing with such an auspicious local occasion.

The night before, the Bennet girls had met in The Kings Arms with a number of their Salcombe friends. Lydia was at full throttle.

'I shall not bother with a wetsuit. It is such a bore trying to pull it on and off all the time, and it makes me look like a giant seal. No, I shall wear the skimpiest of bikinis, so all the lifeguards will make sure of rescuing me should I get into difficulties.'

'I must have goggles, though,' interrupted Kitty. 'I can't like see a thing without goggles.'

'Although I have great demands on my intellect to continue my studies, I feel an early morning swim can but only help. I will be coming, but I feel a wise approach is necessary for a successful outcome. I shall wear goggles and my all-in-one Billabong wetsuit,' announced Mary.

'Will you be taking to the waters, Mr Collins?' asked Lizzy teasingly. 'Or would it be considered too unseemly for a man of your position? I am sure you would not want word to get back to Lady Catherine de Brrr of any outrageous behaviour!'

Mr Collins was appalled by the idea of having to swim across the estuary at seven o'clock in the morning. He had, however, enjoyed a glass or two of wine, and also being in courting mode, felt an unaccustomed bravado come over him.

'Lady Catherine would want her vicar to lead by example. I will certainly be there, and if I may take the opportunity to ask if you, Lizzy, would you care to sit next to me on the boat going over so that I may protect you from any undesirable spray, and that I might then have the pleasure of guiding you through any hazardous waters that might come in our way on the swim back?'

Lizzy's heart sank. She had very much hoped to have the pleasure of swimming alongside Mr Wickham. A slow suspicion had been creeping over her that Mr Collins, from amongst her sisters, had shown a preference for her, and this latest remark only confirmed her worst fears.

Fishermen, tradesmen, and early walkers--usually elderly--are generally the only characters to be seen in the very early hours of the morning in Salcombe during the summer months. The holidaymakers take a slow start to the day, luxuriating in the opportunity to stay in bed just that little bit longer unless excited toddlers persuade them to get up and out on the sands. The latest risers are teenagers and young adults wasted from the previous night's partying or from late-night escapades on the beach, which have left them in need of extra sleep.

Not so on the morning of the Estuary Swim. By 6:30 a.m., black rubber-clad figures are creeping out of front doors, closing them softly behind. From Devon Road, Shadycombe Road, Church Street, Buckley Street they come--the teenagers joined by the elderly and youngsters--streaming up Fore Street, past Whitestrand, past The Ferry Inn, past the Salcombe War Memorial, and down onto Cliff House Gardens, where they gather--not in their twos or threes, not in their tens or twenties, but in their hundreds.

The atmosphere intensifies, the Harbour Master and his team are at the ready, and the first boatloads of swimmers are taken across the sparkling waters to Small's Cove, where they assemble for the big swim back.

***

All was commotion down in 3 Island Street. Lizzy and Jane were ready, wearing cosy hoodies over their swimwear and carrying beach towels. Lydia was hunting for her bikini top and suddenly confessed that she might have left it on North Sands the day before--how it could have come detached she did not know--so wanted to borrow the bikini that Kitty was wearing, who said she could not because she already had it on, so in the end, Lydia had to wear an unmatching top and bottom. Mary was taking an interminable time getting into her Billabong wetsuit, and they were in danger of running late when they all at last were gathered in the tiny hall.

'Ready at last!' said Lydia, her eyes gleaming in excitement.

Lizzy was just about to step onto the street when her heart stopped.

'Mr Collins! Where is Mr Collins? Mary, did you wake him? You promised you would.'

Mary, already boiling in her wetsuit, would have gone redder if she wasn't already bright beetroot.

'I forgot,' she mumbled.

The last thing poor Lizzy wished to happen was for Mr Collins to accompany them on the swim, but she felt it would be too unkind to give him the slip, so she raced upstairs and knocked on his door. There was no answer. She knocked again. Still no answer. With caution she opened the door and called his name softly and then a little louder. With still no response, she started to close the door when suddenly from the bedclothes came a snort, a sniffle, and then Mr Collins's face turned towards her, his eyes opened and then opened wide.

'Elizabeth! My own Elizabeth! Oh, my Lord! You have come! I do doubt the wisdom of your forwardness, but I am prepared to forgive you such is my passion for you!'

He threw back the duvet, inviting her into his hot and enseamed bed.

'Mr Collins! You forget yourself,' cried Lizzy in much alarm. 'And you forget that today is the Harbour Swim. I have merely come to wake you, as Mary has quite forgot. We are leaving now, so if you wish to join us, please make haste!'

And with that, Lizzy turned, shut the door, and raced downstairs, her heart beating and her whole being a little shaken by the experience.

'Is he like coming?' asked Kitty, hoping he was not.

In answer to her question, a banging of a door and footsteps were heard above, and Mr Collins appeared, dishevelled but attired in surprisingly brief swimming trunks and carrying the wetsuit Mr Bennet had so kindly lent him the night before.

'Sorry, ladies, to have delayed you, but let us not dally now! I am ready for whatever delights lie before us!'

And with that, the little party hurried to join the throng at Cliff House Gardens.

***

Once they had paid their entry fee of PS1.00, obtained their numbered rubber wristband, and joined the queue for the boats, Lizzy looked around for Wickham. She was disappointed not to see him there but consoled herself thinking he may already be on the far side. Certainly Bingley would already be on the beach with his sisters, as Netherpollock lay that side. It then crossed her mind that if Darcy was going to be there, Wickham might deliberately avoid the event. Her anger towards Darcy intensified at the thought.

'Do not be alarmed!' consoled Mr Collins, seeing her expression and taking her arm. 'The seas might be treacherous, but I will be here to guide you and save you from any peril.'

Mr Collins was attentive to Lizzy from then onwards. He helped her down the steps, nearly causing her to trip and fall; he pushed her onto the boat so that she fell headlong onto the wooden planks; he shielded her from the spray as they crossed, so she could see nothing but the fleshy white of his chest, and he gallantly leapt out of the boat to help her down on arrival--but anticipated the landing early in error, so they both found themselves chest deep in the icy sea. The dramatic change of temperature had a devastating effect on Mr Collins. He was scarcely able to breath and became momentarily paralysed by the intense cold. Seconds later he regained control over his faculties and ran shrieking out of the water, then remembering Lizzy, turned to help her out, pulling her so she fell again into the sea.

At last all were ashore on Small's Cove and were mingling with four hundred or so other early morning swimmers, all in good spirits, all discussing how cold the water would or would not be and whether it would or would not be advisable to wear a wetsuit.

'My wetsuit!' exclaimed Mr Collins. 'I fear I have left it on the launch!'

'I have it,' said Jane kindly. 'When you so gallantly leapt overboard, I picked it up, thinking it might be forgotten.'

'Thank you! Thank you!' exalted Mr Collins. 'You are kindness indeed. Even Lady Catherine would condescend to agree that you almost have the same excessive kindness for which she is famous! Thank you again.'

'Would you like some help putting it on?' further queried Jane.

'No. It would not be seemly. I can manage myself, thank you,' replied Mr Collins, who proceeded to attempt to squeeze himself into the rubbery outfit. It was challenging. Mr Collins soon found himself unbalancing on one leg, rolling round on the sand, trying in vain to catch the zip strap on his back, and with more help than he would like to admit to, eventually found himself crammed into the all-in-one suit. It was not a pretty sight.

Lizzy, meanwhile, scanned the beach, which now resembled a seal colony with its vast numbers of barking, black-clad figures. Any moment she expected David Attenborough to leap out of the tall pines which surrounded the beach, microphone in hand, and explain the extraordinary annual migration--although, it has to be said, among the black were an equal number of brave souls who wore only swimming costumes and stood shrieking and shivering. Yet there was, indeed, no sign of Wickham. Denny appeared, and Lydia was immediately forthright enough to enquire of his handsome friend.

'Wickham has gone for a run over to Bolt Head. This swim would have been a great pleasure to him, but I am afraid he wished to avoid a certain gentleman.'

Lizzy felt her heart harden against Darcy, as her dislike of him was sharpened by the immediate disappointment. But she was not one to sulk, and seeing her friend, Lottie Lucas, she was able to discuss her griefs, having to drop the subject as Bingley, his sisters, and the detestable Darcy himself joined their group.

'Splendid! Delightful. Absolutely splendid!' enthused Bingley. 'I say, what a perfectly splendid event. I can't wait to get in that sea. Are you a strong swimmer, Jane?' And on enquiring, he angled himself closer to the young lady in question. Mr Darcy similarly seemed to be approaching Lizzy, who feeling he was the last person in the world she wished to talk to, moved away and unfortunately found herself shoulder to shoulder with Mr Collins. Mr Collins, uncomfortable and sweating profusely in the ill-fitting wetsuit, took this as a compliment, and to Lizzy's horror, put out a rubber paw and held her hand. So shocked was she that she gave out a little squeal, which he took to be a squeal of delight and held more firmly, so despite her discreet wriggling, she was unable to escape.

There was a ripple of excitement across the beach. The Harbour Master had transferred all contenders; from his wooden boat, twenty yards out to sea, he was holding an oar aloft; the sea was choppy but not wild; the tide was high; the early morning sun sparkled: the moment had come.

'When I drop my oar, it is the signal to start,' he bellowed. Despite the megaphone, nobody could hear his words, yet despite not hearing his words, everyone got the gist. Almost. The oar had not quite dropped, but everyone knew he was on the verge--the sound of his voice had been enough, excitement overspilled, and the several hundred people who had waited so patiently and with such good humour on the beach now ran at full speed into the water.

The splashing was unprecedented, the battle roar tremendous as bodies large and small, fat and thin, old and young hurled themselves voluntarily into the waves. Lydia and Kitty found themselves at the forefront with Denny and a group of six fit young men. Mary, not wishing to be last, had allowed herself to be swept along with the crowd and was swimming sidestroke in a regular, balanced motion, trying to recite the periodic table to take her mind off the cold. Bingley had made a dash for it with Jane, and they were destined to enjoy a most romantic swim across, with the young man feeling he had fallen in love with a mermaid, so beautifully--in his eyes--did the eldest Miss Bennet glide through the water. Lizzy, meanwhile, was right at the back. Mr Collins had not released his grip of her when the rush began. Being right by the shore as everyone charged in, the pair found themselves near the front, but they were soon overtaken.

'Oh, it's cold!' shrieked Mr Collins, hopping about, barely toe deep. 'Oh my! Oh my!'

'Come on!' insisted Lizzy impatiently.

Mr Collins was forced to let go of Lizzy's hand, as he could not swim and be noble, being good at neither. Lizzy waded out and struck off, but her kind heart impelled her to turn to see that Mr Collins was now only waist deep and still not swimming but bobbing around on tiptoes, trying not to get wet.

'Oh my! Oh my! I can hardly breathe! Oh my!'

'You can swim, can't you?' shouted Lizzy.

'Oh my! Of course! Lady Catherine condescended herself to compliment me on hearing that I achieved my Duckling Award at the tender age of six but...'

He tripped and lunged forward into the water. Lizzy was not able to tell if he was swimming or floundering. The buoyancy of his wetsuit seemed to keep him roughly afloat, but they were going at such a slow pace that the other swimmers were moving away.

'Mr Collins, we will never cross the estuary at this rate. Can you not speed up?'

'I...! Oh! I think I have swallowed a fish! I...! Oh my!'

Mr Collins, now progressed to deeper water, was coughing and spluttering and flailing his arms around and indeed looked in danger of drowning. They were out of their depths, and Lizzy had serious cause for concern.

'Oh my! Oh...'

Mr Collins disappeared under the waters.

'Mr Collins! Mr Collins!' She looked around, but there was no sign. She dived under. Nothing could be seen! She dived again. Nothing! It seemed Mr Collins had completely disappeared!

'Help! Help! Over here!' Lizzy waved frantically at the lifeguards who were floating around on surfboards for the very purpose of rescuing anyone in difficulties. But as she waved, she felt a tug on her leg and was pulled underwater. Something black enveloped her, pushing her down, deeper and deeper. As it pushed her deeper, it propelled itself upwards. Lizzy thought her lungs would burst. Almost too late, she escaped the great weight, and freed, swam desperately to the surface. Only moments from death, she managed to gasp in great mouthfuls of air, and even in such desperate straits, she was conscious of the sight of the great black posterior of Mr Collins being heaved onto a surfboard and his plaintive cry of 'Oh my! Oh my! I nearly drowned! Oh! Oh! Oh!'

Mr Collins safe and thankfully out of the way, Lizzy now filled her lungs with air and struck out with vigour. She was a fine swimmer and was determined, despite this initial setback, not to finish last. She sped through the water, doing a fast crawl, enjoying the physical challenge and soon catching up with a clutch of swimmers. At the same time, she became aware that someone was swimming alongside her. She paused for breath, and on looking round, to her astonishment saw it was Mr Darcy! He, too, was a fine swimmer and seemed able to talk and swim at the same time with ease.

'I do hope you do not mind me accompanying you, Miss Bennet?'

'You are hardly alone in accompanying me, Mr Darcy. There are at least four hundred other swimmers in the vicinity.'

'I mean swim alongside you?'

'If you wish.'

And Lizzy struck out as fast as she could, but to her irritation, found that Darcy managed to keep up with her.

They were soon overtaking Sir William Lucas, who was swimming at a cautious rate.

'Ah, Lizzy! Darcy!' he puffed. 'This sea is full of young people swimming with such style and grace. Allow me to say, Mr Darcy, your young partner does not disgrace you, and I am sustained in my efforts by thoughts of a desirable event, my dear Eliza, that may soon take place.' And he glanced across at Jane and Bingley, who were swimming now at a leisurely pace just to starboard. Darcy was halted in his tracks by this thought, which seemed to strike him forcibly. Uncharacteristically he seemed to lose control and swallow an unwise amount of seawater, causing a temporary spluttering and coughing. Lizzy, wishing to escape, took her chance and swam swiftly on. Yet Darcy, recovered, hastened to catch up again, which to Elizabeth's annoyance, he did and proceeded to encourage conversation whilst swimming on his back.

'What think you of books?'

'Books? I feel we will be all at sea in our varying opinions of books, Mr Darcy.'

'Then let us discuss our opinions.'