Wesley

Alone in a large lido, I am approached by a lifeguard in a fluorescent yellow jacket.  He has a small wispy goatee and pointed teeth.  With a slight lisp, he asks me if I can collect the two pound coin he has dropped into the deep end.  I tell him I wasn't very good at swimming exams at school and that I can't really open my eyes under water.  'I'm sure you'll be able to do it', he says to me with confidence.

I brace myself, swim over to the deep and manage to touch it with my foot.  'You need to dive down and kick', he tells me.  I try a couple of times.  His colleague with dark aviator shades comes to watch.  The second time I touch the bottom but can't find the coin.  I am quite out of breath.  'I'll try and push it to the shallow end', he says, 'you continue your swim'.

Two lengths later, I notice he is struggling.  'It's got stuck in a groove', he says.  I manage to dislodge it with my toe.  'It's hard work', he says.  I offer to try again when an older gentleman in tight swimming shorts emerges from the changing rooms.  He is wearing goggles.  'Maybe I'll ask him', the lifeguard says.

'Did you get it?' I ask as I am leaving.  'Yeh, thanks for trying, mate', he says.  I apologise for my inadequate underwater abilities and then use the opportunity to ask my question.  'That's new resolution', he says, 'I've never heard that one before'.  His middle name is after one of his dad's best friends.