That would have been even worse. I could tell the story as something which happened in the past, use a conciliatory tone of voice, imply that it didn't matter anymore. I was convinced that Helen's version would be much more confrontational. And I didn't want any confrontation with Cathy.I could tell from Cathy's face that she knew exactly what I was thinking of. Should I come out with it?My deliberations were interrupted by the doorbell. The three workmen from the home gym place had come to deliver and install the equipment for our torture-chamber. I felt relief that Helen would now have to dedicate herself to instructing the workmen where to put everything.Cathy and I watched the laborers carry the equipment into our former storage room, unpack it and install it under Helen's supervision. The only thing I could clearly identify was a large, low table, made of polished wood, which was placed into the center of the room and fixed to the floor. Apart from this there were iron bars,. I reached the deck, but both directions had sailors and liveried men.Experience told me that they wouldn't to entertain the idea that I mighthave a perfectly legitimate reason to run around without shoes.The grey sea was dizzyingly far below. I climbed the rail and closed myeyes. The impact would only hurt for a moment. I leaned forwards andslipped from the rail.Air roared past me. I straightened my frame just in time to hit the hardwater. The precious breath was punched from my lungs.Around me, the sea was a stinging cold blackness. Agony pulsed from mybones. The huge gown trapped my legs. I had moments before it would soakand drag me down.I swam upwards. As I sunk after each of my strokes, the hem expanded. Imust have looked like a huge clumsy sea mollusc, but I reached thesurface.Gasping for air, I looked for the harbour with my blurred eyes.Somewhere, men shouted, but I couldn't hear the words.The short dive had sapped my strength. I had to float on my back andconcentrate on.
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