A VOYAGE TO REMEMBER
Chapter Ten

Harold grinned when he saw Isolde wading towards him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her against him, placing a quick kiss on her lips. She smiled at him. She could feel muscle twitch beneath his skin. He gently led them out further into the water. She wrapped her arms around his neck as the water became deeper. He stopped at the very far end of the pool, about a foot away from the edge. The water reached his shoulders.

"Now, just let go," he said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

"Are you insane?" Isolde asked, her arms tightly around his neck. "My own feet can't even touch the bottom!"

"I'm right here," he said reassuringly, prying her arms off of him. "Just grab the wall for a moment."

Isolde did so, but she clung to it for dear life. She watched Harold curiously. His legs looked as if they were moving on one of the fancy bicycles. His arms moved at the same time back and forth just beneath the surface of the water. He was in one place, and still floating.

"Try and do the same," Harold said, grabbing her waist and pulling her from the wall.

Isolde felt him behind her, still holding her waist. She started by putting her legs in the pedaling motion. She added the arms. The young woman bobbed up and down, unsure if she was doing it correctly. She tried to turn to ask Harold, but noticed he was standing nearly three feet away from her. She let out a small squeak and stopped the motion, sinking like a stone to the bottom. Harold rushed for her and pulled her over to the wall. She coughed up a bit of water and pushed the wet locks from her face.

"You did it!" he exclaimed. "That's called treading water."

"You let go!" she accused him angrily.

"If you hadn't stopped to look for me, you could've continued that for a very long time," he protested. "If you ever fell into the North Atlantic, keep doing that to keep your blood going," he added thoughtfully at the end.

"Why would I be in the North Atlantic?" she asked with narrowed eyes. "I thought the ship was unsinkable."

"No ship is unsinkable," Harold said, shaking his head. He saw her look of fear. "Don't worry, Isolde. This is a strong ship. I don't think anything could stop her."

There was a moment of silence, until Isolde piped up, "Teach me how to actually swim."

Harold grinned and instructed her to watch him. He did freestyle, his arms making a crawling motion, his legs slightly kicking. He turned his head to the side for breathing. He eased his way across the pool, barely creating a ripple.

When he got back to her, Isolde launched off the wall and attempted to do the same. She struggled for a few moments on the breathing, Harold at her side to help. Now breathing correctly, they worked on her actual stroke for nearly a half hour. By about one, Isolde was swimming like a fish. Harold called her a natural.

Harold lifted her by the waist and set her up on the edge. He pulled himself up and sat beside her. She turned towards him and smiled. He thought she looked more lovely than ever. Her wet locks lay against her face. He brushed a stray one away. She loved how his own wet hair flopped across his forehead. He leaned down and kissed her softly.

"We should get ready to leave," he said quietly. "Then we can have a quick stroll around deck before I have to work."

Isolde nodded and made her way to the changing room. She got ready as quickly as possible. When she came out, she was wringing her hair. Harold pushed himself off the wall, his own hair still dripping onto his shirt. Her suit was dry now and she followed him out the door. He tossed the key to a young steward, who headed towards them. Harold grinned at Isolde, offering her his arm.

Chapter Eleven
Stories