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SEVENTEEN

Suzie

‘Miss, Miss…this fish ain’t looking at us?’

‘It’s because he’s Spanish, innit? He don’t understand us.’

We need to get these kids out of London more or at least develop the curriculum to teach them fish don’t have a language.

I think. They just speak Fish, don’t they?

I look over at them, their little faces all backlit by the aquarium lighting, marvelling at getting up close and personal with these strange creatures in the Acuario de Sevilla.

‘Look at that big bastard shark!’ one of them yells.

‘Language!’ I yell back, trying to herd them in the right direction. I look around the tunnels of this place and see Charlie up ahead with his group, a pale blue neon light over his face, laughing with his teens and talking about how something is ‘muy grande’.

After the Plaza de Espana this morning and being caught out by a group of Korean tourists, we headed back to the hostel drenched in some sort of halcyon radiance, walking down cobbled streets of quaint shops and cafés, hand-in-hand, my head rested on his shoulder.

It was a silent walk of knowing looks, stolen kisses and an understanding that we’d shared a moment, we knew each other a bit more intimately and the seeds of something were planted, growing.

Before it felt so frenetic, and it felt good to have seen him more clearly for a while, to have heard him talk so affectionately about his family life and how he cared for his siblings.

I wondered how much to share in return. When do I bring up Paul?

But I think I was almost scared to – afraid of polluting the intimacy we were creating, the love he expressed for his family, with the complications of my messy life.

Maybe that would come in time. It felt right to protect that moment of calm.

Until we got back to the hostel that is, and all the students started getting up for breakfast.

‘And this is the Estrella de Mar Roja,’ Jorge our guide, tells us.

I like Jorge’s calm. You sense he’s been around lots of these school groups before and little seems to faze him.

He’s an older man with a rucksack, sandals, socks and a sunhat with a strap.

‘In your native English, I believe it’s called a red-knobbed starfish. ’

Naturally, this results in quite a few sniggers among the group as we proceed to the next tank.

‘Senora, why do the children always laugh when I say this?’ Jorge asks me. ‘It is confusing to me. Are they laughing at me?’

‘Oh no…’ I tell him. ‘It’s just, in English, knob can be a word for…’ My limited Spanish means I don’t know the word so I point down.

‘Vagina?’ he says in shock.

‘Oh no,’ I say. ‘What you have?’

‘Pene?’ I will assume he’s not talking about the pasta. I nod.

‘Oh,’ he says, horrified. ‘Well, hopefully, it is just that fish.’ He smiles, walking up to the children again. ‘And you all know our good friend Nemo here but this blue fish is called a doncella rayada – in English, a slippery dick.’ I walk away again, trying to hold in my laughter.

We did the Plaza de Espana with the students this morning, a different place under the throng of tourists with their tour flags and desperation to record everything, but many a picture was taken and sent home so worried parents can at least believe we’re trying to introduce their kids to some culture on their time abroad.

Bocadillos in the glorious leafy park for lunch followed but now, the peace and cool of the aquarium is a welcome break from the sun and all the kids telling us constantly that they’re too hot.

‘Do you happen to know the name of that fish, senora?’ I recognise his voice immediately and smile in that dark room, as I feel his arm graze against mine. That feeling that soars through me when he’s near is like being recharged.

‘I’m not au fait with fish, I’m afraid,’ I inform him.

‘Well, this silver one is usually found in the shallows of the North Atlantic, in reefs. He’s called Swim Shady.’ I laugh a little too loudly at that. ‘I can’t take credit for that joke; that was some kid called Jack over there.’

‘I’m disappointed in you, scrounging jokes off the kids like that…’

‘And there was you thinking I was actually funny…’

But he is. He is so many things that I’m slowly falling for, so much so that I’m almost too scared to voice it.

There’s something about his honesty, the fact he wanted us to go for something as simple and cleansing as a walk to begin the day together, the fact he wants to rewind from all that heat in Mallorca and not just jump into all that passion and physical attraction so blindly.

Most men would do it differently, they would let it dictate a relationship, overpower it.

I knew someone like that. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you, Charlie, and that scares me a little.

‘Keep an eye on Thomas, by the way,’ he tells me.

‘He keeps asking me what fish in here can be used to make sushi,’ he says, laughing.

‘I worry that sandwich at lunch wasn’t enough for him.

’ I giggle again as his hand brushes against my back and rests there for a moment.

I ache for it to be there for longer. He leaves me again to re-find his group.

‘And look at that shark, muchos dientes,’ he tells them.

I find my gaze following him, watching his figure disappear into the darkness again and he turns to smile at me.

‘When are we ever going to need that, Sir?’ someone complains.

I walk ahead, stopping in front of a big tank of corals and tropical fish, a ray floating past with his tiny mouth, possibly smiling at me.

Next to me stands Lola who, instead of looking at the fish, looks down at her phone.

I glance over and see she’s talking to Josh and they seem to be trading in fish emojis, which I hope isn’t some teen code for sexting.

She sees me peering over. ‘That’s a bit rude, Miss. Looking at my private messages.’

‘I was looking at nothing,’ I lie defensively. ‘I was just surprised you want to be looking at your phone instead of all this aquatic sea life.’

‘It’s just fish, innit? My dad has a tank like this at home.’

‘With sharks?’ I say, pointing to one that swims past us.

She narrows her eyes at me, shaking her head. There’s big teen energy that comes off this one and I suspect she doesn’t find me too amusing. She looks over at me. ‘Miss, can I ask a question?’

‘Is it related to fish? I don’t think I know that much about them.’

‘No, it’s about boys.’

‘Josh?’ I guess.

‘Kinda. I just…I like him. I can talk to him for hours sometimes but I’m not too sure if I want a boyfriend right now,’ she says.

I smile to think about the innocent thrill of a relationship, the long conversations with someone you’ve just met.

That said, I’m impressed by the head on this girl too, for being able to cope with the idea she can survive without a relationship or a man defining her.

‘That’s fair. You can focus on your schoolwork then,’ I tell her.

‘Yeah, you sound like my mum,’ she says, unimpressed.

‘Well, if you have to find out if Josh is for you then perhaps you need to talk to the boy first.’

‘This is true,’ she says, slightly suspicious that I’ve remembered that detail. ‘That’s going to be mega awkward at school though. Like, I just go up to him one day and say hi or something…’

‘Yeah, can I borrow a pen? Isn’t maths rubbish? What have you got for your packed lunch?’ I suggest.

‘Packed lunch chat? Yeah, you’re telling me you’ve not got much rizz, Miss…’ she says, laughing.

‘Be brave, jump into the water, fully clothed,’ I tell her.

‘And what if he’s a shark?’ she asks, looking out into the tank. I think that same shark is circling us, watching. And for a moment, and quite bizarrely, I think of Paul. I think it’s the beady soulless eyes.

‘What if he hurts you? You punch him in the nose and swim away, quickly and far away,’ I say plainly, still looking at that shark.

‘Alright then, Miss…’ she says. ‘Gracias.’

‘You’re welcome.’

I notice the students I had responsibility for have walked ahead, through to another room with more tanks and I pick up my pace to catch them up as there seems to be an open rockpool where a guide is letting the kids touch the fish. Where is that Thomas kid? Do we have eyes on him?

‘Podéis usar uno o dos dedos,’ the aquarium guide says, and the kids gawp at him cluelessly .

Charlie stands to the front of the group, flaring his nostrils. ‘Did anyone get that?’ he asks.

‘Something about two?’ a voice shouts out.

He sees me at the back of the group with my students. ‘He said to touch the fish, you can use one or two fingers.’

‘That’s what she said,’ a boy shouts out.

‘Yeah, less of that Jack,’ Charlie says in resigned tones, as I look down and laugh rather unprofessionally.

‘Acariciadlos, suavemente. A los peces les gusta con suavidad,’ the guide shouts out again.

Charlie closes his eyes. ‘Stroke them gently. The fish like it gentle.’

Again, the crowd of kids roar with laughter and I have no choice but to join in. They all line up in a reasonably orderly manner and take it in turns to stroke rays and pick up urchins. When I get closer to Charlie, I still have a rather puerile grin on my face.

‘Sir…’

‘Miss…’

‘Did you want a stroke?’ he asks. ‘It’s quite the experience.’

‘Really?’

‘Is it wet?’ I ask.

‘Well, that is a stupid question, they are aquatic animals that live in the sea,’ he jokes.

The aquarium guide looks at both of us, slightly confused that I would ask if the fish would be wet. Is this woman an actual teacher?

‘I wouldn’t mind a stroke of something different perhaps?’ I say biting my lip, the last student out of earshot and Charlie’s eyes widen.

‘Later? I promise,’ he says.