Page 42 of Mayfair Madame
Her face was one of abject horror. “You want me to get on that?”
“Yes! Here, you need to put this on first.” I handed her an orange life vest and held the pedalo while she climbed aboard.
“Eww, Naomi. The seat’s all wet.”
“It’s part of the fun. Now keep up. No going around in circles.”
I settled into the seat and peddled hard. I reckoned I could miss leg day at the gym with all this exercise.
Ellie kept up, pumping her legs like mad, a huge smile on her face. It seemed she was enjoying this as much as I was. I’d not felt this light and stress free in years.
“Naomi, how do you steer this thing?” She said, her voice laced with urgency. “Those guys are coming straight for us.”
A pedalo with four men in their twenties headed our way on a direct collision course. Not a life jacket in sight.
“Stop pedalling, Ellie. We’ll never outrun them. The best we can hope for is for them to bypass us.”
We slowed and drifted a little to the left, but not quite far enough, and with a bump, they ploughed into us, giving us both a jolt.
They cheered and shook their beer cans at us. Each wore a T-shirt declaring ‘we’re on it until we vomit’. If they were drunk this early in the day, no doubt they’d be vomiting fairly soon.
“Hey, ladies. Fancy a ride on this?” Obscene gestures accompanied their invitation.
I rolled my eyes, and Ellie laughed. “Boys will be boys, I guess.”
“Not today, lads, you’re on your own,” I called across to them, but determination flitted across one man’s face. What would he do?
Using my foot, I tried to push them away, but another held on tight, refusing to let go.
Not wanting to be deterred, the guy stood on unsteady legs and stepped towards us. The pedalo rocked dangerously.
“You’ve got plenty of room on there for another one,” he said, his words slurred, his arms outstretched.
“He’ll have us all over,” Ellie warned. “Don’t let him get on, Naomi.”
“I won’t, don’t worry.” I gritted my teeth, doing my best to remove us from harm’s way.
But with his jaw set, he took a step forward, then another.
His mates shouted encouragement.
“Go on.”
“Fuck, yeah.”
“Go get ’em.”
One more step, and his foot was on our pedalo.
“Naomi.” Ellie gripped onto the sides as it lurched from the extra weight.
“I know, I know.” I braced myself against the other pedalo, trying to keep us steady.
I didn’t know what to do, and short of pushing him off, we were stuck with him wobbling precariously.
But in his state of drunkenness, he overbalanced, and fell head first into the water with a splash.
He spluttered and went under, his arms flailing above his head. Shouts and laughter erupted from his friends as he resurfaced, until he went under again, a look of panic on his face.
