Adelaide had swum laps in the North Adelaide Aquatic Centre when she was at uni. She was doing a BA, so activity wasn’t really her thing, but sometimes she joined the achievers – physios with ponytails and med students with stethoscopes – just to be sociable. Just to see what balance was all about.
She wouldn’t swim there now of course. It was a disgrace, people said and everyone agreed. Fancy a city like Adelaide with no competition-competent swimming arena. If the airport didn’t kill their reputation that swimming pool certainly would.
At playgroup, Adelaide had heard about the Burnside swimming pool. It was great for toddlers and they served good coffee, so everyone said. But Adelaide would never know for herself. She didn’t have the thighs for that arena.
So Adelaide satisfied herself with the once-closed, now-open Unley Swimming Pool. During the holidays she took the kids and they swam there every day for a week.
They were dreamy, summery days. Until someone stole their kickboards. The ones Adelaide had picked up at the sales. Just left them for a moment she had. In a bag in the carpark while she ducked down to the bakery to get a loaf of bread for lunch. And then she’d come back and they were gone. She probably shouldn’t have left them, Adelaide knew.
Still and all the same. Stealing little kids kickboards! Not very Adelaide, thought Adelaide.