Chapter Fourteen
While its name made it sound like a magazine you would find in the fetish section on a top shelf in the corner shop, Wild, Wet and Windy’s website insisted it was ‘the best one-stop wetsuit shop on the south coast’. As much as Lisa didn’t relish the thought of wetsuit shopping, she was in no doubt that purchasing one before her next swimming session with Tobywas preferable to slipping on the previously used offering from Babs. Passing a row of shops she took the right turn dictated by her phone and pulled over in front of Wild, Wet and Windy, next to a pale-blue-and-cream, split-screen Volkswagen camper van,of course. Lisa took a breath. She tried to remember if she had learnt any surfer language that would stand her in good stead from her yearsof watchingNeighbourswith Flick.Why didn’t they surf more? They lived in Australia, for goodness’ sake!
The black sun awnings that hung over the large shop windows had the words ‘Quick Silver, Rip Curl and Reef’ written across them.Oh Lord!Lisa already felt out of her depth, and even the words had more energy implicit within them than she did. To her right there was a large displayof canoes and kayaks – elaborately decorated with flashes of bright colours and flames – and the seats outside the shop windows were a trendy arrangement of wire cubes filled with beach pebbles, topped with driftwood benches. Lisa bit her lip and wondered if slipping into Babs’ used wetsuit might be the easier option after all. She didn’t want to be laughed out of the shop if she confessed all shewanted was a wetsuit for swimming in a heated pool, with a slightly slobbery Newfoundland who erred on the lazy side of life.
Her memories ofNeighboursbeing no use, she tried to remember what Babs had said she should go for. Engaging in an in-depth conversation with someone whom she assumed would be a surfer-type sales assistant wasn’t something she particularly wanted to do anyway.Maybe if she got the facts straight in her head she would be able to just pick one up off the rail – it had to be that simple, didn’t it?They need never know I’m a complete wetsuit novice.
Deciding that walking in and looking like she knew what she was doing was the way forward, Lisa got out of her van and slammed the door. Reminding herself that going through with this meant she wouldn’thave to face borrowing a wetsuit from Babs, she took a breath and reached for the door handle. Noticing the word ‘Animal’ written on the blind she smiled;ha, maybe she wasn’t going to feel so out of place after all!
As she walked in Lisa did a double take. The shop was much larger on the inside than the outside had led her to believe and, on first glance, there wasn’t a wetsuit in sight.Bugger!She began to wander around, attempting to look as if she knew exactly what she was after and where to find it. The shop was much more stylish than she had imagined too. Not in the way of the shops she frequented in London, of course, the ones where you were paying for the floor space as much as the garments, and where they tried so hard to impress that everything about them – from thehighly polished floor to the thoroughly tailored serving staff – shone. But, nevertheless, Wild, Wet and Windy had style. It was evident in the hard wooden floors, inlayed with checker-plate metal; brown leather sofas placed to allow comfort while pondering which of the many trainers, hiking boots or sandals – despite the season – suited your sporting or leisure needs; and the carefully arranged displaysin front of scenes of the great outdoors. This was a shop that took itself and its sports seriously.
Lisa was fascinated. The array of equipment for almost every outdoor sporting eventuality was quite something. She looked at the skateboards and helmets, the idea had always appealed but she and Flick had skipped the skateboarding phase in favour of rollerblades. An image of them gigglingand attempting to glide, while mostly falling over, through the high street with a Sony Discman each clipped to their hips sprung to mind and made her smile.
‘You OK there?’
Lisa jumped and turned to see the young male sales assistant standing beside her. He smiled as her cheeks inexplicably turned red.
‘No!’
‘You’re not OK?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘I mean,yes. Sorry, I thought you asked if I wanted anything.’ Lisa grimaced.
‘And do you?’
‘Do I?’
‘Want anything? Something I can help you with, maybe?’
The man, in his early twenties, was perfectly nice, friendly and helpful, not intimidating at all, but somehow the words ‘I am after a wetsuit for swimming with a dog’ didn’t want to pass her lips. ‘I just need…’ Lisagazed round the shop, ‘um, one of these,’ she stated striding towards a display of woolly hats.
‘Ah, well we have plenty of choice here. Did you want a beanie, headband, bobble beanie?’
‘Bobble beanie?’ Lisa laughed.
‘They’re very popular.’ The man smiled, passing Lisa a hat that was striped in colours reminding her of Neapolitan ice cream, topped with a large, pink bobble.She slipped it on.
Oh wow!Lisa was surprised by how soft and warm it felt. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed it didn’t look too bad either; not compared to the pom-pom hats her Granny Blake had knitted her when she was younger. The autumn was off to a mild, damp start, but she could imagine that having such a warm, cosy hat when the weather turned would actually be a good idea withher new profession.
Fifteen minutes later Lisa was standing by the till paying for the bobble beanie, a scarf and a pair of mittens, all in matching colours. Matt, as she had learnt the sales assistant’s name was, certainly knew how to up sell. If it wasn’t for her bank balance, and the fact she still had a wetsuit to find and purchase, she would easily have been adding a pair of waterproofboots and thermal socks too. Pleased with her stash she took her bag and smiled.
‘Thanks, Matt.’
‘No problem, I hope they keep you warm.’
‘I’m sure they’ll be a godsend. I’m a dog walker, out in all weathers,’ Lisa responded easily.
‘A dog walker. How funny! You don’t swim with them too, do you? We had one in last week after a wetsuit.’
Lisa stopped. ‘It’sfunny you should say that, Matt.’
As Matt led Lisa up a flight of metal, checker-plate stairs, she couldn’t help but notice the intense smell of rubber and the large display of Sex Wax that lined the wall. Recalling her earlier fetish thoughts relating to Wild, Wet and Windy she attempted to stifle a giggle and coughed.
‘It’s strong, isn’t it, but you get used to it. I’m prettyimmune to the smell myself.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Lisa responded, before doing a double take as they reached the top of the stairs and a room with a large array of wetsuits in a variety of styles and sizes.
‘Shall I leave you to have a look around?’ Matt asked.
