Free The Binding by Jenny Alexander

would be a pain having to carry them around when I suddenly realised this could work our way.
    â€˜Do you think Matt would lend us his day-sack to carry them in?’
    â€˜Of course! Help yourself—it’s beside the dresser.’
    Tressa and me had thought of something we’d need to take to the pool with us that was too big to smuggle out in our pockets. The fact was, Milo couldn’t swim. I wasn’t sure he should come with us at all, but he would no way keep to the rules about how to behave at home if we told him he couldn’t, and anyway Tressa reckoned he’d be all right so long as he had his armbands on. He had brought them onholiday, but one of them wouldn’t deflate properly, so we couldn’t get it flat.
    It was nearly as big as the ball I was planning to take. You have to have the right sort of ball for swimming-pool games—not a tennis ball which will get heavy and soggy, or a small hard bouncy ball that will hurt if it hits your bare skin. The perfect swimming-pool ball is a mini-football of the kind it just so happened I’d been playing with out in the yard.
    I put the ball and armbands in Matt’s day-sack under the hats and gloves and then had the idea of putting my trick dog poo in as well. Swimming was just too good an opportunity to miss. They were going to love it!
    After lunch, we made our getaway before Mum had a chance to change her mind. It was spitting a bit by then, but like Matt said, it wasn’t cold, probably because there wasn’t any wind.
    We saw a smudge of smoke in the sky above the bothy. They were all inside, but the door was open, so we went straight in. A driftwood fire was crackling in the hearth, with the fish-box chairs arranged in a semi-circle in front of it. On the makeshift table therewas a pile of white towels that looked orangey in the firelight, and a big silver flask.
    â€˜Hot chocolate,’ Duncan said, ‘for when we come out.’
    He told us he always brought the towels when they were going swimming, because it was easy for him. There were gazillions of towels at the hotel and all he had to do was nick a few from the linen cupboard on the way out and dump them in the laundry baskets when he got home again.
    â€˜My parents never notice anything,’ he said. ‘They’re always busy, specially on days like this when they’ve got guests coming in on the boat.’
    I said we’d smuggled a few things out as well, such as for example, Milo’s armbands.
    â€˜If he can’t swim he can’t come in the pool,’ said Duncan. ‘That’s the rule.’
    Milo’s bottom lip, which had been remarkably firm for days, began to wobble. His thumb hovered, half-way to his mouth.
    â€˜But this is a good thing because I need somebody to look after my stick while we’re in the pool,’ said Duncan.
    Milo couldn’t believe the honour that was being bestowed upon him. He took the stick in both hishands with a massive grin. It was like a magic wand, magically making him happy.
    â€˜You can use it to poke around for precious objects among the seaweed that we can add to the end wall,’ suggested Duncan.
    Milo couldn’t wait, so he bounded off to start foraging while the rest of us stripped to our swimsuits and raced down the beach to the pool. I had the ball, and no-one noticed the fake dog poo in my other hand.
    We stood shivering in a line along the concrete barrier at the seaward end. It was still spitting, and the raindrops made faint circles on the surface of the water. I put the ball down on the edge of the concrete, with the dog poo hidden behind it.
    Duncan suddenly plunged in, making a massive splash. Hamish went next, then Tressa, gasping and spluttering at the sudden cold.
    â€˜I told you,’ Duncan said. ‘Are you all right?’
    Tressa’s jaw seemed to be frozen shut, so she just nodded and tried to look as if she wasn’t struggling to