‘Bloody rain,’ said Dave as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.
‘Aye, talk about summer; it’s hardly stopped since May,’ replied Geordie.
‘That’s the British weather for you.’
‘Aye, but it would be nice to sit in the sun occasionally.’
‘It’s nice in Cornwall.’
‘So?’
‘So, we can visit Mal.’
‘What? Your cousin Mal? The one that likes a gamble.’
‘He’s into casinos now, worth a couple of hundred million, got this big gaff on the coast.’
‘And we just turn up there?’
‘No, I’ve got an open invitation, all I have to do is send him an email.’
‘Well, what are we waiting for?’
Two days later they drove up the mile long driveway to Mal’s place of residence, Shangri-la – I know, I know, what can I say? – and parked between a Ferrari and Bentley.
The butler showed them to their rooms and informed them that Mr Thompson expected them for drinks by the pool in an hour. A quick shower, a change of clothes and they made their way down to the pool – it was an Olympic size salt water pool, carved out of the rocks, at one end of the private beach, next to a large lagoon. The decking that surrounded the pool was heaving with people and as they look around they spotted Mal at the other side of the crowd. He waved and pushed his way over, ‘Hello Dave, long time, no see.’
‘Hi, Mal, great looking party,’ said Dave and turned to introduce Geordie.
But Geordie was staring towards the lagoon, ‘Is that what I think it is?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, it’s a Great White.’
‘Is it your?’
‘No it just appeared a couple of days ago, there’s an underwater entrance from the sea into the lagoon.’
‘Will it be able to survive in there?’
‘No, but it will eventually find its way back out again. In the meanwhile I’ve got a bet on with that consortium of Chinese over there, that I can find somebody brave enough to swim one length of the pool, after I’ve let the shark in.’
‘You’re joking!’
‘No, I’m deadly serious.’
With that, Mal gave the signal to open the gate from the lagoon and in due course the Great White swam through. Mal picked up a bullhorn and crowd quietened. ‘Ok here's the deal,’ said Mal, ‘anyone who jumps into the pool, swims one length and gets out the other end in one piece, can have their hearts desire, They only have to tell me what they want and it is theirs.’
No one made a move, the silence deepened, suddenly there was a splash and Geordie was in the water swimming like the clappers up the pool. The shark turned in behind him; his arms and legs were going ninety to the dozen. The beast began to close in, Geordie looked behind and his arms and legs became a blur as he sped up, he reached the end of the pool, shot up the steps and collapsed on the decking.
Dave and Mal raced to his side, Geordie lay there gasping for breath.
‘You did it,’ cried Dave.
‘Tell me what you want,’ cried Mal
‘I want…’ gasped Geordie.
‘Yes?’
‘I want to get…’
‘Yes! Yes!’
‘I want to get a hold of the prat that pushed me in the pool.’
