Month: May 2025

It was a stormy day outside today which led me to expect a busier Vallantyne’s but I was mistaken. The aqua fit class had not long finished when I arrived; there were some leftovers undoing their good work in the cafe area afterwards but most had already gone on their way. Perhaps they go to the aqua class for the guilt-free chocolate muffin with friends afterwards. This provides another manifestation of the true character of the Vallantyne’s clientele, but one they evidently acknowledge through the bountiful provision of muffins. I would join the aqua class too but there is inevitably the concern around not being invited for the post-date muffin. No Paul you see. And no Paul in the rather cloudy pool today either. What is this sediment that the aqua-class stirs up, I wonder? I then decide not to wonder. So it was another quiet swim with limited visibility. 

l had mixed feelings when Pauline joined me in the hot tub, I confess. I was hoping that she would be back to her usual, sensible self, ideally with a new and more appropriate hair colour and suitably chastised in matters relating to hair dryer use. She regaled me with more tales of The Full Monty. I had misunderstood the set up of the thing. It was invite only for the in-person showing, plus a ticketed option of a screening of the live event from a cinema. Pauline is not a celebrity so she was in the cinema. Only those at the live performance were graced with the Full Monty, Pauline and friends were required to be satisfied with the looks of surprise/admiration/alarm/disgust on the faces of the audience and to use their imagination. Pauline had no difficulty exercising her imagination and in furnishing mine. So not back to her usual self at all. She then went on to describe her family set up. She said that she is estranged from her parents – she hasn’t spoken to them for two weeks now. And from a son, although she didn’t say how long that has been for. She has an active interest in spiritualism about which she can converse for an extended period of time, though I struggled to find appropriate responses.

 Perhaps she is one of those very changeable people.

The rules are entirely clear: there is to be no swimming butterfly stroke in the fast lane if there is another swimmer in the fast lane. I suppose the Twonks thought they could ignore this rule given that, until I boldly joined them they were the only two people in the fast lane and they were both swimming butterfly. 

I refer to them as The Twonks because I have concluded that they are twins, one male, one female. They have matching dark hair and large, powerful swimming shoulders. Often couples come to Vallantynes for a spa day (no petting please we’re not animals), but the chemistry between The Twonks is so heavily platonic that I have them in twin category: close but not intimate. My main model for  boy-girl twins is Topsy and Tim but I quite liked them.

Girl Twonk is a much better swimmer than Boy Twonk but neither is as good as they think they are. To make an attempt at fairness, which I think they barely deserve (see below) they did desist with their very splashy butterfly when I joined them in the fast lane. The rest of the pool gave a collective sigh of relief. Even the loungers had been in danger of splashing. Zena told me so. 

The Twonks seem unaware of both the well-written and the unspoken rules of the pool. When I got out and went to the showers there was further evidence. Girl Twonk had left much of her hair (head hair only & presume – I did not examine) stuck to the wall of the shower cubicle, which only goes further to prove her status as a Twonk. I only hope her brother has better manners.