WITH my sister having been on holiday for the past few weeks the health and well-being of The Mother has been my sole responsibility.

“Try not to kill her before I get back,” said my sibling as she headed off to the airport.

“I’ll do my best I replied, hoping I could live up to the promise and in my defence I did…until the day before my sister’s return when I almost let The Mother drown.

Having not set foot for the past year in the swimming pool her garden boasts I made it my summer project to get The Mother back in the water especially when the temperatures soared last week.

“I’ll be with you the whole time and don’t forget I was the one who taught you to swim in the first place,” I said urging her towards the edge.

“I’m going in, I’ve just lost my confidence a bit,” said The Mother, deleting the inevitable with the oft told story of how her PE tutor at teacher training college had resorted to strapped her into a harness to get her to dip a toe in the shallow end.

“I’ll just sit on the step to cool down,” she announced having barely got a shin under the water.

“Just come in to the shallow end and float around,” I said enjoying the brief respite from the sun.

“I can’t float,” she replied.

“Everyone can float, you just need not to panic,” I answered rapidly coming to the end of my teaching patience.

After half an hour of encouragement I finally got her to the shelf separating the shallow end from the deep end.

“Now just gently let yourself fall forward and start swimming,” I said using the term very loosely to describe the unique cross between the doggy paddle and underwater cycling which The Mother has made her own.

“It’s all coming back to me,” shouted The Mother excitedly as she launched herself across the pool from corner to corner.

“Are you going to swim back now?” I asked as she celebrated her first width / length combo.

“No. I can only swim in one direction so I’ll ‘walk’ back under water hanging onto the side,” she replied.

Two days later she was happily walking into the pool with barely a hesitation.

“You don’t have to stand next to me all the time. I’m fine on my own,” she said in full Esther Williams mode.

“Ok,’ I replied carrying on with my own stroke.

Two seconds later I heard her panic-laden scream.

“Liz…Liz…save me!”

With superhuman strength I raced the metre and a half to reach her, braving the kicks as she almost thwarted my efforts. Grabbing her I pushed her to the safety of the pool side.

“You saved my life,” she announced when she’d finally calmed down.

“I did,” I replied. “I think that makes me the favourite,” I added, always ready to gain an advantage in the sibling rivalry stakes.

“Although,” I said with a silent eye roll. “You could have just put your feet down because I can stand up easily and you’re a good few inches taller than me…but let’s stick with ‘I saved your life’ for the moment!”