I could have asked Nathan about the scout, but I didn’t want to go behind Joey’s back if I could help it, especially when his relationship with Nathan meant so much. And I was the expert here on sussing out a scout. I’d go along to training, find an inconspicuous spot to spy from and draw my own conclusions.
Well check me out! Allgoing alonganddrawing my own conclusions! Goodbye begging for scraps of Cee-Cee and Joey’s conclusions and good riddance!
33
Stop Being a Loser Programme
Day Seventy-Five
The following morning, I phoned Antonio Galanos, Head of the Notts County Council leisure department, and introduced myself. Mr Galanos fussed and fawned and waffled on about all the amazing shiny new facilities at the Amelia Piper Swimming Centre, and how he really hoped I would be their guest of honour at the grand opening and I was very welcome to bring my family and friends along, they would have a wonderful time and be very well looked after.
‘What about my friend Tate? I could invite him along to see this fantastic, incredible pool. But then, Tate is disabled, and he can’t get in the water without a hoist. So, all he’d be able to do is see it. I’m not sure quite how fun it would be for him to sit at the side and wave at his two sisters and two brothers splashing around in the intelligent thermostatically controlled water. What do you think?’
‘Um.’ There was a brief silence as he fumbled for a reply. ‘We do have a wheelchair accessible café area.’
‘If he wanted to go to a café, he’d pick a nice one, like the Cup and Saucer in Brooksby, which is also accessible and isn’t a bus ride away. Incidentally, the café owner’s wife, Gill, also uses a wheelchair so can’t use your amazing new pool facilities. Would you like me to invite her to the grand opening? Will she be very well looked after as she watches from the café area?’
‘Um.’
I breathed out a loooong sigh. ‘Look, I know it’s not your fault personally. I don’t want to make you feel bad, but surely, as the Head of Leisure Services, you could have done something? Maybe, before splashing out on a smartphone-controlled LED lighting and music system, gone for a pool that more people can actually get into? I’m not sure I feel comfortable endorsing a facility that is so non-inclusive.’
A gulp came down the phone line. ‘The signage has already been ordered,’ he stammered. ‘We can’t possibly change the name now.’
‘I wonder if the newspapers would be more receptive to my opinion?’ I pondered. ‘Come to think of it, a national journalist has been in touch recently, wanting to do a “where is she now?” story. Moira Vanderbeek. Perhaps you know her?’
‘Um, I don’t think…’
‘Funny that, because you’re friends on Facebook.’
‘Well…’
‘I’m guessing not friends enough that she’d ditch a story like this to protect your smart little swimming pool.’
Antonio Galanos took a couple of deep breaths. He hadn’t risen through the ranks of the Nottinghamshire County Council and made it to Head of Leisure Services for nothing!
‘Look, I’m aware that the lack of a hoist was an oversight. But these things cost money and there isn’t any left. What Icando is invite you to meet with our team and discuss a hoist budget for the longer term.’
‘That doesn’t really help Tate and Gill now though, does it?’
‘I appreciate that, Ms Piper, but really, I’m not sure what you want me to do.’
‘Well, I’m very glad you’ve asked.’
Fifteen minutes later, I had a guarantee (to be confirmed in an email by five o’clock that evening) that the council would give their full backing to the PoolPal campaign. I wanted banners, flyers, marketing, encouragement to every team entering the triathlon to consider raising money, all profits made from their wheelchair-accessible café area on the opening weekend and a generous donation to the JustGiving page from Antonio Galanos as a demonstration of his personal commitment.
That was for starters.
But the price was not cheap.
Amelia Piper was opening the swimming centre. This included giving a speech and presenting the triathlon trophy, along with a gazillion photos and meet and greets with local sports clubs. That I had been prepared for. The point at which I had to squinch my eyes shut and think very hard about Tate was when Antonio asked me to do an interview with Moira Vanderbeek. I would have said no, but I’d just threatened him with the same thing. Plus, I was pretending to be a badass.
It was my turn to gulp. I did remember to hang up the phone first.
I sat back, made a congratulatory cup of tea and shook my head in wonder that the woman who’d coolly negotiated such a fantastic agreement with the council moments earlier was actually me. If I carried on at this rate, forget pretending, I’d be a badass for real.
And when I thought about it, in a secret spot in my own mind, I was maybe starting to like myself a little bit. Enough to know that liking myself, feeling proud of who I was becoming, was okay.
* * *
